Sean Whitney, the organizer, approached first.
Sara knew Sean. His family owned a bank—so poor they had nothing left but money. Aside from a decent face, he possessed neither character nor intellect.
He and Adrian were polar opposites. The phrase "spoiled rich kid" might as well have been tattooed across Sean's forehead.
Despite his young age, the women around him rotated like a revolving door. A different face on his arm every day wasn't an exaggeration—it was an understatement.
He'd occasionally tried to shove women onto Adrian, so Sara held no goodwill toward him.
The feeling was clearly mutual.
Seeing her, Sean's eyebrows shot up.
Sara understood why immediately.
Eva James was there.
Her gaze snapped to Adrian.
He'd been kept in the dark too. His eyes narrowed, a look of cold displeasure cutting toward the mastermind.
Being set up was what Adrian hated most.
Sensing the temperature plummet, Sean scrambled forward. "She showed up last minute. I didn't know beforehand, I swear. Couldn't exactly kick her out. Just turn a blind eye—pretend she's not here."
The instant Adrian looked over, Eva looked back.
Their eyes met.
Sara's heart seized.