OLIVIA The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was a dizzying kaleidoscope of gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and the heavy, cloying scent of hundreds of expensive perfumes mingling with champagne. The roar of conversation was like a physical wave, pressing against me the moment we stepped through the double mahogany doors. I felt like an exotic bird trapped in a gilded cage. Every time a flashbulb went off, I flinched, my hand tightening instinctively on Adrian’s arm. He felt like the only solid thing in a world made of smoke and mirrors. As we moved through the crowd, I realized very quickly that while the Moretti name was legendary, my face was a blank slate to these people. "Adrian, you rogue!" a middle-aged man in a tuxedo that cost more than a mid-sized car boomed, stepping into our path. His eyes immediately slid to me, roaming over the iridescent green silk of my gown with a slow, appreciative hunger. "I see you’ve brought quite the companion tonight. I didn't know you w
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