PhilipEditor
Andrew Worthington was the Upper East Side's golden boy-until he vanished from his own wedding party at 2:17 a.m., trailing a scent of Tom Ford and betrayal. Now, Madison Waldorf is left holding a glass of sangria, smeared mascara, and a shredded heart. Still draped in her Vera Wang wedding dress, she watches as the city's elite whisper about the shadows haunting the 34th floor of Z Magazine.
But Andrew hasn't just left; he's evolved into something darker.
In a world where high-fashion meets an ancient, bloody hunger, the social ladder has officially become a food chain. Here, the only thing more dangerous than being "canceled" is being "bitten."
Welcome to the weekly UES Dispatch: Where the secrets are lethal, and the blood is as expensive as the couture.