-POV Derby
The crystal rim of my glass was still biting into my palm when the double doors at the western wing of the ballroom swung open.
I didn't hear them open over the swell of the orchestra, but I felt the immediate, synchronized shift in the room's oxygen. The hushed murmurs around the perimeter died out in a clean, sweeping wave, executive heads turning in unison toward the entrance like a well-rehearsed theater company greeting their lead actors.
Jordan had arrived.
He didn't walk in alone. Somewhere during the last twenty minutes, while I was being quietly dismantled by his family's board members, Tamara had slipped away from the floor to meet him at the private elevators.
They moved into the light of the main chandeliers as a single, unshakeable unit. Jordan looked massive,
