The heavy, bulletproof door of the Maybach closed with a definitive, airtight thud, instantly silencing the chaotic roar of Manhattan. Inside the cabin, the air was cool, smelling faintly of rich cedar and expensive leather. It was a scent Clara hadn’t breathed in four years, yet it settled into her

The Vance corporate headquarters occupied the top thirty floors of a monolithic, obsidian-glass skyscraper in the heart of the financial district. It was a fortress of wealth, silent and imposing, a physical manifestation of the iron grip the Syndicate held over the global luxury market.

Inside th

The Grand Atrium of the Metropolitan Museum of Art had been transformed into a sprawling, gilded monument to Damien Sterling’s ego.

Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over the sea of A-list celebrities, fashion critics, and billio