The Obsidian City Annual Charity Gala was a masterpiece of organized hypocrisy.
It was the ultimate battlefield disguised as a playground for the elite. A shimmering facade where power was flaunted like a weapon and reputations were traded or destroyed over glasses of vintage champagne.
To the outside world, it was a night of philanthropy. To those within, it was a shark tank.
The moment Dr. Claire stepped onto the crimson carpet beside Dominic, the atmosphere shifted.
The air, already thick with the scent of expensive perfume and rain, seemed to crackle.
A barrage of camera flashes erupted. A thousand tiny silver arrows of light threatened to strip her bare before the world.
Avery felt a surge of instinctive panic. She moved to raise a hand to shield her eyes.
But a heavy, searingl
