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Her Secret Sorrow

Lucien

His eyes could not tear themselves off the graceful, curvaceous figure of his wife as she glided about, serving, smiling graciously as the guests made appreciative sounds, wolfing down the food. His eyes shifted to roam across the table. Beside him sat Schwartz, his golden head turned to look at Proserpina as he praised the chestnut soup lavishly. Beatrice, scurrying about with the soup tureen, immediately stopped to replenish his bowl. Proserpina laughed in protest,

‘You know that there is a main course to follow, James!’

Aiyana sat beside Schwartz, her hard black eyes darting around the table occasionally, watching, observing, and filing away information for later. The woman would never keep her FBI skills away, thought Lucien in exasperation.

And of course, Danielle and Grace sat with Rachel and her friend, the Vietnamese woman who seemed to be enjoying the food too. Then there was the tiny blonde woman at the far end of the table who looked decidedly ill at ease: Melissa, t
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