CHAPTER 33: THE HOUR BEFORE THE STORM
Point of View: Lorain Hart
The dawn didn’t so much break over the city as it dissolved from black into a cold, bruised slate gray.
I sat on the edge of the leather sofa in Saviour’s penthouse, watching the rain strike the floor-to-ceiling glass in thin, frantic sheets. The oversized charcoal hoodie I wore still held his warmth, but inside, my veins felt like they were filled with crushed ice.
Seven o’clock tonight.
In less than fourteen hours, my parents and I were scheduled to stand in the central drawing room of the Kane Estate manor, facing Kane Hart, his corporate legal council, and the head of university affairs. On paper, it was billed as a "routine administrative audit of estate residential privileges and academic aid eligibility." In reali
