Flora Hayes poured herself another glass full of wine. The bottle was already half empty. Her phone was dialling next to it.
Flora was fuming.
Here she was at her penthouse in Paris, separated from the man she had her sights on. She had come so close to remaining by his side but somebody just had to blow her plans sky high and take her place.
Her call finally went through for the first time since she tried dialling, instead of going straight to voicemail.
"Hello? Whoever this is, you can't possibly have the right number. Can you even speak English?" A tired sounding voice came from the other end of the line. It was James Fridinand alright, Dennedy's closest ally. James had the unmistakeable bad habit of shooting reckless words out of his mouth whenever he was tired. From what Flora kn
