Chapter 17

I can admit that I am rarely at a loss for words. I’ve trained myself to hold my own in a boardroom, a catty socialite circle, and under media scrutiny. It’s a skill I’ve cultivated over a long time.

But standing there, seeing that scene in front of me, I have nothing. No words. Not even enough to make my presence known.

I see Dante say something to the woman on the floor, but all I hear is a dull ringing in my ears. When she leans forward again, I finally find the strength to move. I back out of the room, quiet as a shadow.

I walk down the hallway, not really seeing where I’m going. Not until arms wrap around me and a hand tilts my chin up to a familiar face.

“Q! Talk to me, love. Are you okay?” It’s Grayson.

“No,” I say simply.

There’s nothing else to say.

Grayson scans the area, flagging down one of the employees. “Take us somewhere she can sit down.”

“Of course, sir,” comes the murmured reply. We're led down a maze of back hallways and into the manager’s office—a surprisingly elega