Meanwhile... Harrison slipped away from the crowd, ascending the staircase with a smirk twisting his lips.
This was Sinclair's woman—he needed to witness the spectacle firsthand to savor it properly.
Reaching the target room, he pushed the door open without hesitation.
Before his eyes could adjust to the dimness, a needle-sharp pain lanced through the back of his neck.
Darkness swallowed his vision as consciousness slipped away.
"Right on schedule," Camilla withdrew her hand, icy gaze fixed on Harrison's crumpled form as she addressed Sonia beside her.
"Remember—he'll wake within ten minutes after removing this silver needle."
"Understood, Madam.
You can count on me."
"No,"
Queen checked the time, her brows knitting together in concern.
"I should go check."
Perhaps Mrs. Luther needed some help.
Setting down her wine glass, she flagged down a passing waiter to ask for directions to the dressing room before weaving her way through the crowd.
