When I said all that, the security guard glanced at the gold shop uniform I was wearing and his expression softened a little.
"Even so, I can't let you in," he said. "We have rules about that."
"Ms. Dickerson moved in about six months ago. She's got a husband too. Word is his family came into a lot of money from some property deal, and that's how they could afford a villa here."
After squeezing what information I could out of the guard, I hurried away.
The moment I got home, I dug out my jewelry box from the very bottom of the closet.
Inside, all the receipts for my gold pieces were still there.
But the weight was wrong.
I hadn't worn any of this jewelry much since getting married, but I'd spent years working at the gold shop. I knew what gold was supposed to feel like in my hand.
These pieces were way too light.
The color was off too, and the texture under my fingers felt strange.
I grabbed my eyebrow razor and drew it lightly across the surface of one piece.
The gold plating peeled away, revealing cheap brass underneath.
Every single piece of my gold jewelry had been swapped out for fakes.
There was no question who'd done it. It was Derek.
Grief and fury churned in my chest. Then my phone rang.
Derek's voice came through the speaker, warm and gentle as always. "Hey, babe. Just got out of a meeting. You called earlier—what's up?"
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to rip that mask right off his face.
But I held it in.
My voice came out hoarse. "It's nothing. Today's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to remind you to come home early tonight."
Before I could finish, his tone shifted to something apologetic. "Babe, I'm sorry. I don't think I can make it back tonight."
"Things are really busy at the office. I'm going to have to pull an all-nighter here."
"My boss is getting ready to promote me. Once I make supervisor, the pay bump will be huge. It won't be long before we can afford a bigger place."
"I'll make it up to you tomorrow when I get home, I promise."
After I hung up, I drove straight to the design firm where Derek supposedly worked.
When the receptionist heard me ask for Derek Lawson, she froze for a second. A strange look crossed her face. "Derek Lawson? He quit ages ago."
"When did he leave?" I asked.
She didn't hesitate. "About six months ago. And he made a real scene on his way out too. Our boss was furious."
"Apparently his family's old property got seized for redevelopment and they got a massive payout. First thing he did was cuss out our boss to his face, then he went around pointing fingers at coworkers and screaming at them. The guy was on a real power trip."
She tilted her head. "So who are you to him, anyway?"
I clenched my jaw. "I'm someone he owes. And I'm here to collect."
Before she could respond, I turned and walked out of the building.
After that, I made one more stop—Derek's hometown.
And when I got back from that trip, I picked up my phone and called the police.
That evening, inside Cloudbrook Villas.
The dining table was set with an extravagant spread.
Lavinia was perched on Derek's lap, nuzzling against him.
"Baby, how was I supposed to know that frumpy little wife of yours worked at that gold shop?" she whined. "I only went there because I heard they offered the best buyback prices in town. How could I have known she'd be the one at the counter?"
Derek rubbed his face, exasperated. "Thank God she didn't catch on. That would've been a disaster."
"You're not exactly hurting for money. Why did you have to go sell jewelry right now?"
