Chapter 2

The Highland Club sat within an unnumbered brownstone on 60th Street on the Upper East Side. It was the last bastion of New York's old money, the air a mixture of aged Scotch whisky, Cuban cigars, and the scent of stale arrogance.

Bella stood outside the heavy oak doors, the early autumn evening breeze cutting through her beige trench coat. She had just stepped out of an Uber Black; the driver, unable to find parking, had dumped her at the street corner.

"Apologies, ma'am." Though the doorman used honorifics, his eyes were filled with scrutiny—a look Bella knew well, the look reserved for "tourists" or "intruders." "Your name is not on the member list. Furthermore, according to the club's dress code, your... coat does not seem to meet the evening standards. We require ladies to wear cocktail dresses."

Bella looked down at herself. It was an unreleased sample from the AUREA Group's next high-couture season, a minimalist cut using top-tier Vicuña wool, devoid of any logo. But to the untrained eye that only recognized massive brand logos, it indeed looked exactly like a Uniqlo basic.

"I am waiting for Liam Sterling," Bella said, suppressing her anger and speaking in fluent Oxford English, attempting to bridge the gap in status with her accent.

"Mr. Sterling is already inside." The doorman remained blocking the entrance like a snobbish gatekeeper. "You may text him."

It took ten minutes for Liam to make his belated appearance. He held a glass of single malt whisky, his cheeks slightly flushed; clearly, he had already finished a round.

"God, Bella, why are you still here?" Liam frowned, as if Bella's presence embarrassed him, as if she were the "nerdy" friend from his Harvard days he didn't want his classmates to see.

"They won't let me in."

"Oh, the rules here are quite numerous, you know. They'd even dare to turn Zuckerberg away." Liam didn't scold the doorman; instead, he swept a somewhat disdainful glance over Bella's attire. "You really are dressed too... casual. Charles and the guys are here, and the dates they brought are all wearing Oscar de la Renta."

"I came straight from the office to bring you the due diligence documents for the merger you forgot." Bella held up the briefcase in her hand. "Without this file, how are you going to talk to the Goldman people tomorrow?"

Liam took the file and handed it off to a nearby waiter. "Fine, go wait for me in the car. Or call yourself an Uber back? It's too stuffy in here, nothing but talk of sailing and polo; you wouldn't like it."

Bella watched him turn and walk back toward those resplendent doors. In the instant before they closed, she heard laughter from inside.

"Hey, Liam, is that your all-purpose nanny? Looks like she took the 7 train from Queens."

"Don't say that, she's very useful, whether it's making spreadsheets or making dinner." That was Liam's voice, carrying a trace of ingratiating laughter.

Bella stood in the cold wind, feeling her blood congeal drop by drop. She lived in Manhattan, yes, but her heart, in this moment, felt as if it had been tossed into the freezing Hudson River.

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