Chapter 11

The air inside the Guggenheim seemed to have been vacuumed away. Alex stood there, surrounded by priceless modern art and New York’s most exorbitant social circles, yet he felt as though he were standing stark naked on the Siberian tundra.

"Rib-eye steak..." he murmured, his voice faint as a sigh. The words wedged themselves into his brain like rusty nails.

Olivia Winters violently yanked his arm,