GARRISON

Watching Julian’s hand on her waist had been a slow, agonizing descent into hell.

I stood at the edge of the ballroom, my fingers crushing the crystal champagne flute in my hand so tightly I expected the glass to shatter into my palm.

Every muscle in my body was locked, vibrating with a dark, primitive rage that defied every corporate code I had ever lived by.

The media was watching. Arthur was watching. The entire world was waiting for me to crack, but all I could see was the emerald silk of Roxie’s dress moving in rhythm with my cousin's body.

She's your sister. The lie screamed in my...