The federal detention center reeked of industrial bleach and old paper, a world apart from the rain-slick luxury of Alexander’s leather-bound limousine waiting outside.
Clara stood in the waiting room, her fingers unconsciously twisting the emerald silk fabric of her blouse. Her wrapped wrist throbbed, a dull reminder of the storm they had just survived at Vance Tower. Beside her, Alexander stood with his hands tucked into his trousers pockets, his dark eyes fixed on the heavy steel doors at the end of the hall. He hadn't spoken since they left the boardroom. The calculated, unreadable mask of the Ice Monarch was firmly back in place, but the magnitude of his presence still filled the small room, making the guards at the front desk keep their heads down.
A loud buzz echoed through the co
