CHAPTER 2 — THE WOMAN ON THE FLOOR

Julian Thorne woke with blood in his mouth and rage burning through his skull.

Champagne soaked his tuxedo.

Broken glass glittered around him.

No one offered to help.

That was what he would remember most.

Not the pain.

Not Evelyn’s fist.

The hesitation.

For the first time, the people in that ballroom had looked at him and wondered whether he was still dangerous.

Julian pushed himself upright.

“Where is she?”

His mother stood near the shattered table, perfectly composed in a silver gown.

Beatrice Thorne had not moved during the attack.

She had simply watched Evelyn leave.

“She’s gone,” Beatrice said.

“Then bring her back.”

Julian wiped blood from his lip.

“Call the police. Freeze her accounts. Shut down the airports. I want every camera in the city searching for her.”

“The cameras are gone.”

Julian looked at her.

“What?”

The head of security stepped forward, pale and shaking.

“Every internal server was erased nine minutes ago. Backup systems too.”

Julian grabbed him by the collar.

“That’s impossible.”

“We believe Mrs. Thorne had outside assistance.”

Beatrice’s expression changed at the name.

“Do not call her Mrs. Thorne.”

Julian released the guard.

“She’s my wife.”

“No,” Beatrice said quietly. “She was an assignment.”

The room went silent.

Julian slowly turned toward his mother.

“What did you say?”

Beatrice stepped through the glass without looking down.

“You were supposed to control her. Instead, you became obsessed with humiliating her.”

“You told me she was nobody.”

“I told you what you needed to believe.”

Julian stared at her.

Beatrice leaned closer.

“If Evelyn opened the Nightingale archive, this is no longer about your marriage.”

“What is Nightingale?”

For the first time that evening, Beatrice looked afraid.

She glanced toward the guests.

Then she lowered her voice.

“It is the reason the Thorne family still exists.”

She turned to the security chief.

“Find Evelyn before she reaches the last file.”

“And if she already has it?”

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Beatrice’s eyes hardened.

“Then make sure she never speaks again.”