Velmora was still buzzing from the Astors' downfall when another hurricane hit the city.
Theodore Marston was arrested.
A travel ban.
Aveline Laurent's name was tied to it.
The questions multiplied, but nobody dared speak carelessly. Not anymore. Not after watching the Laurents and Alaric Lancaster tear the Astors apart without lifting their voices.
…
The night was growing darker, the city lights scattered like broken stars. At the intersection, a Rolls-Royce stood parked beneath the streetlamp, its polished body catching the gold light.
The world around it was quiet, just the low hum of streetlights and the distant growl of engines.
Then a Bugatti rolled in from a different direction, its sleek frame gliding across the asphalt. Alaric stepped out immediately. His shoulders eased only when he saw Aveline step out, unscathed. She walked straight into his arms, burying herself in his chest.
