She’s still my sister. Caitlyn had to know the truth. She climbed out of the car with her handbag and gift for Constantine. Dad would go ballistic if he knew she was here. He was already pissed by her recent fiasco. The fact that she’d made a mistake for good reasons didn’t matter. She was still screwed. Her career ruined. Blacklisted from the State Department. No job, no home, and a quickly dwindling amount in her savings account.

Coming here to see Shanna could be another mistake, but dammit, she wanted her sister back. And she’d never been one to shy away from a challenging situation. She slammed the car door to accentuate her rebellious determination, then marched toward the entrance.

She was about twenty minutes late, having made some wrong turns. She knew her way around Minsk, St. Petersburg, Bangkok, and Jakarta, but White Plains, New York, was a foreign land to her. She could hear shouts and laughter in the distance, so hopefully that meant the party was still in full swing.

Her stride slowed as a nagging question returned, one that had bothered her since she’d first opened the invitation. Who would throw a birthday party for a four-year-old at nine o’clock at night? Granted, she didn’t have any experience with raising children, but still, didn’t kids usually go to bed about that time?

She paused mid-step when the front door swung open. A column of light spilled out, framing the dark silhouette of a huge man.

“Miss Whelan?” His voice was deep and gravelly. He moved to the edge of the light and became more visible.

“Yes.” Another security guard, Caitlyn assumed, since he was well over six feet tall and looked as indestructible as an army tank. He was dressed in the same khaki pants and navy polo shirt as the man at the front gate.