Chapter 29 The Confrontation
Genevieve pushed open the gilded glass doors of The Marlowe Hotel’s grand ballroom. Chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, but the warmth in the light didn't reach her heart. It had calcified into ice. Her heels clicked against polished marble, drawing stares, startled, scandalized, curious. She wore a sleek crimson dress that kissed her curves, her hair pinned in a loose chignon like a crown before war.
Across the room, Gideon laughed too loudly near the champagne fountain. Rosalind dripped in black velvet and pearls, her arm looped around Silas’s. Genevieve’s throat tightened. There they were. Together. Like the triumvirate of betrayal.
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