even know—’
He continued to lead her along by the hand, ‘Just follow me.’
He was definitely French, she thought as they made their way up a short staircase to a large open-plan loft with carpet so white it hurt her eyes. The walls were mirrored on one side, and a few long purple drapes lined the wall on the other. Dara took a moment to look around, feeling hopelessly confused by the situation. Was she here to collect something?
‘I was sent here by Leo Valente...’ she began uncertainly. ‘He didn’t mention why—’
The blond man hushed her with a sudden snap of his fingers.
‘We don’t have time to chat. My team and I need to begin.’
As if on cue, a small army of women in black smocks appeared from behind one of the purple curtains. Dara caught a glimpse of row upon row of clothing racks before the curtain swung back into place, blocking her view.
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