?Chapter 1199:


    If Raegan hadn’t already known about the Cooper Group’s illicit dealings—thanks to intelligence gathered by The Mask—Kiley’s speech might have convinced anyone that the Cooper Group was the city’s righteous guardian.


    But The Mask had long uncovered the truth. The Cooper Group wasn’t the foundation of Wront—it was its parasite. It wasn’t building the city; it was bleeding it dry, stealing not just wealth, but lives.


    Raegan’s mission tonight was twofold: first, use the party to destroy Maia. Second, and more crucially, steal the Cooper Group’s ssified secrets. Following her leader’s orders, she would dismantle this bloodsucking family once and for all.


    She snapped back to the present, pulled out her phone, and dialed Anti.


    Almost instantly, a haughty, yful voice answered. “What is it? We just parted ways… Don’t tell me you’re already dying to be my model?”


    Raegan smiled faintly. She knew exactly what Anti wanted to hear, and precisely how to fulfill Kiley’s assignment.


    “Of course I’m eager to sign as your exclusive model,” she said smoothly. “But that’s not why I’m calling. There’s a private cocktail party tonight, attended only by Wront’s elite. Rumor has it many of them are your devoted fans. So, what do you say? Does it tickle your fancy? I went through quite a bit of trouble to secure two invitations.”


    She paused deliberately, then added with a teasing lilt, “Truth is, I can hardly wait to see the look on their faces when they realize who you really are. You wouldn’t refuse me… would you?”


    “Of course I refuse,” Anti giggled, her tone dripping with mock disdain. Her voice rose at the end, yful and sly.


    Then, in an instant, it shifted. “But since you clearly busted your chops getting those invites… I’ll graciously ept this time. But don’t you dare reveal my identity at the party.”


    “No problem,” Raegan replied calmly, ncing at her wristwatch. “That’s entirely up to you. I’ll be at the Marclif Hotel in about thirty minutes.”


    “Before the party begins, we’ll have time to stroll through Wront and pick out a gown that suits you perfectly.”


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    At the Nelson family vi, in the master bedroom, Rosanna stood before the full-length mirror. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the silver gauze of her gown, and a satisfied smile touched her lips.


    “This one is perfect… I’ll wear this,” she murmured, the corners of her mouth curving upward in quiet delight.


    The maid understood at once. Without a word, she gathered the other gowns into garment bags and slipped silently out of the room.


    This was Rosanna’s first formal invitation from the Cooper Group since bing Austen’s wife.


    She hadn’t appeared at such an elite social event in a long time. She’d assumed she would have to wait until the Cooper Group’s annual charity g to mingle once more with Wront’s aristocratic families and celebrities.


    Yet now, Kiley was hosting a private cocktail party. Rosanna had a strong premonition—tonight mattered. Kiley might make an announcement.


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