My husband served me divorce papers in our kitchen and called me “dead weight”—then walked into a gala with his mistress, unaware I was the true heir to the empire he spent his life chasing.
“Who owns the Madison Avenue property leased by Maison DuCiel?”
A brief pause of typing.
“Sterling Commercial Holdings,” she replied.
“Good. Inform the boutique owner that every platinum couture piece and the silver Vautour gown is reserved immediately for my private fitting tonight. Nothing is to leave beforehand.”
