At exactly three o'clock that afternoon, a convoy of three black Rolls-Royce Phantoms pulled up in front of the clinic.
The doors opened one after another.
Security stepped out first, raising black umbrellas. Then Emily Collins emerged.
She was one of Mantuis's most powerful socialites, the kind of woman whose name alone could move millions of dollars.
Custom crocodile-skin heels clicked against the pavement as she stepped from the car.
A pair of oversized Chanel sunglasses hid most of her face, while her chin stayed tilted upward with the confidence of someone used to getting exactly what she wanted.
She was also famous for one other thing. Nobody in Newston was harder to please than her.
Lucas had assembled nearly every senior doctor in the building outside the entrance to greet h
