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March 26 - March 27, 2022
A feminine wail floated through the crowded ballroom of the Bridwells’ newly built Fifth Avenue mansion. The soft cry hovered beneath the notes of the waltz, its ghostly fingers touching everything it passed. The efforts of an army of musicians did nothing to drown out the sorrow inherent in the sound. It settled like a fog of despair over the glamorous evening, dusting it with melancholy.
He probably hadn’t noticed that his fiancée had yet to make an appearance. She was the least important aspect of their agreement. Camille was the only one who stood to suffer from the arrangement. She was also the only one who’d had no say in the matter.
There. He was for vanquishing, not for kissing.
Somehow, she knew that her life would be irrevocably different after this conversation. But knowing him had already changed her in ways she couldn’t articulate.
“Concessions are needed, dear sir, when the very fabric of the rule is inherently unfair. Change the rule and I wouldn’t need one.”
“No.” She gave her head a shake because eloquent words had deserted her, and she needed him to understand she meant it. “I don’t need a shield.” “How thoughtless of me.” A smile curved his lips, and he pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You need someone to fight beside you.”

