The Last Heir of Fifth Avenue
The champagne flute caught the light of the chandelier and scattered it across the ballroom like broken stars. Jeffrey Rothschild III watched the guests drift through the room in their silk and tuxedos, smiling, laughing, performing the elaborate dance of New York high society in the year 1924. He felt nothing. Three years ago, he had been standing in a muddy trench outside Verdun, watching a...
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