I should have known.

Somewhere deep down, right behind my ribs, I think I always did. But I still dressed up tonight like a girl hoping to be loved.

The ballroom sparkled. The chandeliers threw warm golden light across silk dresses and tailored suits. The air smelled like expensive perfume and champagne.

Everyone here belonged to Manhattan's rich and powerful. Technically, I did too. I was the daughter of Theodore Kingston, a media tycoon and the kind of man who called himself the king of New York.

But I had never felt smaller.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lana asked beside me, her arm linked through mine...