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Chapter 113: The Devil Smiles
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Chapter 115: The Vaughn Steel Mask
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... ved, and with it, an army of stylists, tailors, and campaign advisors had filled the Vaughn mansion.
Everywhere I looked, someone was adjusting a hem, steam-pressing a tuxedo, or whispering into a headset about "optics" and "narratives."
I stood in the center of the ladies’ dressing room, ignored by the stylists who were busy draping a thousand-dollar silk gown over a mannequin. My eyes were locked on my mother.
Lisa sat before a massive vanity, while a professional makeu ...
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