Chapter 6 Dinner Of Strangers

• By the time the sun dipped behind the skyline, my nerves were frayed to threads.
• Clara had come to my room at dusk carrying a long, black gown. Silk, fitted, with a slit up the leg that made my cheeks burn when I tried it on. She said it was “Mr. Kane’s request,” though the way her voice softened on the word request told me it was more command than choice.
• “He’s hosting a dinner,” she explained while fastening the tiny hooks along the back. “The men from his inner circle will be there. He wants you to attend.”