THE LAST STRAW OF LOVE.
Gabriella Montrose was a woman of power and reputation, and if Eleanor was going to prove herself, she needed to do it tonight.
As she was escorted into the study, she kept her posture poised, controlled, unreadable.
Gabriella sat behind an ornate desk, swirling a glass of wine, her expression sharp with curiosity.
“I must say, Eleanor,” she mused, “I didn’t expect Daniel Cain’s wife to be so… bold.”
Eleanor met her gaze, unfazed. “That’s because most people don’t know who I really am.”
Gabriella tilted her head slightly. “And who exactly are you?”
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