The Sterling Club sat tucked away on a rain-slicked street in the city’s financial district, an imposing fortress of charcoal stone and frosted glass. It was the kind of establishment that didn't need a sign. If you belonged here, you knew where it was. If you didn't, the uniformed doorman would ens

The stainless-steel expanse of *The Sovereign’s* kitchen was blindingly bright, reflecting the frantic, panicked energy bouncing off the pristine subway-tile walls. As Clara pushed through the swinging double doors, the heavy scent of scorched butter and panic hit her palate like a physical blow.

Clara stood at the edge of the kitchen pass, her hands folded tightly over the apron of her chef’s coat. Through the swinging double doors, the dining room of Julian’s soon-to-open flagship restaurant was bathed in the harsh, unforgiving light of midday. At the center table sat three major investors