sat calmly in the makeup chair, a portrait of serenity. The face staring back at
ried man named Ben, said, handing her a bo
reassuring smile. "I
etwork was the fastest way to solidify Anya's identity, to build a public hi
uarterly earnings report, but the words swam before his eyes. The te
placing a thin file on the cor
information you requ
picked
an, adopted by a reclusive European family. Graduated with honors from the Royal Academy
e. The first page was
anged. The same wide, intelligent eyes. The same curve of her lips. The five years of his gr
e muted ticker tape of the stock market was replaced by
ld. "And we're back! My next guest is the breakout star of the new blockbuster
hite dress, the fabric flowing around her as she moved. She smiled at the cheering audience, a
numb fingers, scattering
moved, the way she tilted her head when she listened, the familiar cad
was
ime studying Shakespeare in London. Each laugh, each graceful gesture, was a moc
celebrated. And he had been mourning a
is gut and rose up his throat, choking him. It was rage. A pure, volcanic rage born
d let him believe he was responsibl
shrill and intrusiv
ndication. "Fremont, are you watching? Did you s
s a low, terrifying growl, a so
lanned it all along, faking her death just to get away from you. And now she comes back, with some other man's chi
fire of his rage. Betrayal. Hum
d, his breathing growing loud and ragge
his desk. The lamp, the computer monitor, the stacks of papers-everything went
nched at the sound. He had never, in all his years
ge of his office, his chest
e a raw command. "Get the jet.
. She was unaware that a storm of a magnitude she had anticipated, but with a fury
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