The charity event was held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, one of those carefully curated affairs where Manhattan's wealthy and connected gathered to feel good about themselves while wearing expensive clothes.
Angela arrived at 8:15 PM, dressed in a floor-length black gown that suggested wealth without demanding attention. She moved through the crowd with the ease of someone who belonged in these spaces, even if she'd only recently been introduced to them.
She'd been briefed on Eve's schedule. The event. The time she'd arrive. The people she'd likely speak with.
Angela positioned herself near the wine bar, nursing a champagne flute, waiting for the moment when their paths would cross.
Eve arrived at 8:47 PM.
She was beautiful in the way that came from careful styling and absolute certainty, dark hair swept to one side, a sapphire gown that moved like water, the kind of quiet elegance that suggested someone who understood her own power.
