CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
As soon as I got to my room, I picked out my phone from my bag with shaky hands, expecting to see another threat but it was just a text from Aunt Natty. I sank onto the bed, the white linens cool, my floral, a gift from Liam on our first trip together to Dubai draped over the chair, sparking memories of our penthouse mornings: coffee, his teasing about my burnt toast, his warm hugs. Aunt Natty had been digging into Liam’s accident, her silver hair and fierce eyes a constant in my life since my mother, Margaret Monroe died in a fire accident. With the threats flying around, all I could think about was how much time I had left. MG and Clarisse had followed me, even here, thousands of miles away. I knew I needed to act fast and most importantly figure out my mother's link to all of the
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