The reception room oozed sophistication and old money, from the plush leather sofas to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined with antique tomes. Liveried waiters circulated with trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and crystal flutes brimming with vintage champagne.

Lisa sipped at her glass, keenly aware of the weight of veiled stares and sidelong glances from the milling crowd. She knew the raffish upstart CEO of Barloren Inc. was the subject of intense scrutiny and hushed whispers. Let them gawk and gossip - she was far too preoccupied with the whispers of her own unquiet mind.

Vivian's reappearance in the flesh hit her like a physical blow, dredging up memories and emotions...