The night it ends where it began, a woman in a blue dress walks into a room.Not Aria. Not this time.The room is a ballroom in Billings. The Sterling Cross Partners twenty-fifth anniversary gala. Two hundred and fifty people. The company's history on a screen at the far end — where it started, what it survived, what it became, what it's still becoming.The woman in the blue dress is Hope Sterling Cross Patrick.She's thirty-two. She's been running the international division of Sterling Cross Partners for three years — not running it the way her parents ran it, learning it. Running it the way someone runs something that was built for them to build further. The specific speed of someone who didn't start at the beginning and doesn't have to.She walks in without looking back.Of course she does.She never has.Aria sees her from across the room.She's standing with Damien at the edge of the gathering, the way they always stand at these events — slightly to the side, adjacent to the thin
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