My name is Sophia Reyes. I’m twenty-six years old, and until that night, I was just another invisible housekeeper at Manhattan's luxurious Ashford Grand Hotel.

The Metropolitan Museum of Natural History was bathed in golden light.

Dozens of high-society photographers lined the red carpet, their flashes creating a blinding wall of white as limousines pulled up to the grand stone entrance. Manhattan’s elite—senators, real estate tycoons, foreign dignitaries, and underworld bosses in expensive suits—mingled beneath the towering dinosaur skeletons in the main hall.

When Alexander’s armored Maybach pulled up to the curb, four heavily armed Ashford security guards formed a tight perimeter.

Alexander stepped out first, offering his hand to guide me onto the carpet.

The moment my high heels touched the stone floor, a shockwave of whispers swept through the waiting press.

"Is that Alexander Ashford?" "Who is the woman in green?" "Where is Victoria Lane?"

Flashbulbs exploded around us. I kept my head held high, my spine straight, and my breathing slow and steady. My father’s training pulsed through my veins; every sense was heightened. I mapped the entrance exits, noted the six concealed security guards Alexander had placed among the staff, and tracked the eyes of every person in the crowd.

We stepped into the grand exhibition hall. Crystal chandeliers cast soft reflections across the polished stone floors.

And standing near the mezzanine bar, surrounded by four dark-suited enforcers, was Victor Moretti.

The head of the Moretti family was a broad, iron-haired man in his late fifties, wearing a sharp grey tuxedo. Beside him stood Victoria Lane, wearing a glittering silver dress, a hateful, triumphant sneer fixed on her face the moment she saw us walk in.

"Look at them," Alexander murmured beside me, his hand resting firmly on the small of my back. "They didn't expect you to walk in through the front door."

"Moretti is already calculating," I whispered back, keeping a smooth, regal smile on my face. "He sees the emerald dress, the diamonds, and he thinks you're flaunting me. He thinks you're arrogant."

"Let him think that," Alexander said smoothly, taking two glasses of sparkling water from a passing waiter's tray and handing one to me. "Arrogant men make sloppy mistakes."

Across the room, Victor Moretti whispered something to Victoria. She nodded eagerly, pulling out her smartphone.

Ten seconds later, my cracked personal phone—which Alexander’s team had encrypted and mirrored to our command center—vibrated inside the small clutch bag hanging from my wrist.

It was an automated security alert from the museum’s internal network.

"They just deployed a cell jammer in the East Wing gallery," Maya’s voice whispered through the microscopic earpiece hidden beneath my hair. "The signal in the Ocean Life exhibit just went dark. Moretti’s men are moving into position."

I took a slow sip of my water, my eyes locking with Victor Moretti's across the crowded room. He offered a faint, chilling toast with his whiskey glass before turning to walk toward the quiet, dimly lit corridors of the East Wing.

Victoria stepped out from the crowd, intentionally walking past us toward the ladies' retiring room near the same dark hallway. As she passed, she leaned in close to me, her voice dripping with venomous pleasure.

"You look nice in that dress, little maid," Victoria whispered maliciously. "It's a shame you're going to bleed all over it in twenty minutes."

She didn't wait for a response, turning on her high heels and disappearing down the carpeted hallway.

Alexander’s jaw clenched, his hand instinctively reaching toward his inner jacket where a silenced pistol was holstered. "I'll kill her myself."

I laid my soft hand over his forearm, stopping him instantly. "No. That's what she wants. She wants you to cause a scene in front of thirty cameras."

I looked toward the dark, quiet corridor leading to the Ocean Life exhibit.

"Stay in the main hall," I told Alexander, my voice dropping into an icy, dangerous register. "Keep the media's attention on you. Make sure no one follows me."

Alexander looked into my eyes, his heart visibly pounding against his ribs. He reached up, his thumb lightly brushing my cheek. "Ten minutes, Sophia. If you aren't back in ten minutes, I tear this museum apart."