The opulent study radiated old aristocracy, from the floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookcases to the Persian rugs underfoot. An enormous marble fireplace dominated one wall, the flames crackling within casting a flickering danse macabre of shadows across the assembled faces.

Lisa stood before the hearth like a prosecuting inquisitor preparing to lay bare the sins of the accused. Arrayed before her were Kieran and the rest of his inner circle, their expressions ranging from studied neutrality to outright disdain.

And at the throng's epicenter, rooted in place by equal parts defiance and barely-masked trepidation...Vivian.

"Well?" The raven-haired woman's tone lashed out like a slender whip-crack in the taut silence. "We're all present...