Keira met Lana at a coffee shop near the train station in Great Neck.
Lana Sterling was Keira's only friend. She drove a red convertible and had zero filter.
She hugged Keira so hard her ribs cracked.
"Let me look at you," Lana said, holding Keira at arm's length. "You look... tired. Did he hit you?"
"No," Keira said. "He's... he's actually okay."
Lana rolled her eyes. "Okay? He's a felon, Keira. He's a beast."
"He gave me this," Keira said, pulling out the box. "To help with mom."
Lana opened the box. She picked up the bangle.
"Ew," she said. "This is brass. Look how tarnished it is. And this glass? It's not even cut right."
She tossed it back in the box.
"He's trying to manipulate you with garbage."
"Don't call it garbage," Keira said sharply. She snatched the box back. "It was his grandmother's. It means something to him."
Lana stared at Keira. "Oh my God. You like him."
"I don't like him. He's... he's loyal. Which is more than I can say for my family."
Across the street, in the gray Ford, Jonah adjusted the volume on his receiver.
He had slipped a bug into her purse when he gave her the box.
He heard every word.
He's loyal.
He leaned back in the seat, a strange feeling spreading through his chest. No one in his entire life of billions and boardrooms had ever called him loyal. They called him ruthless. They called him a monster. But this girl, defending him to her only friend, saw something in him that didn't even exist. And God help him, he wanted to become the man she thought he was.
Lana sighed. "Fine. But take this."
She handed Keira a small pink canister.
"Pepper spray. If he tries anything, blind him."
"Thanks, Lana."
"Now go get your money. Give Edmon hell."
Keira walked up the long driveway to Jacobson Manor.
The house was massive. A sprawling colonial mansion with white pillars and manicured lawns.
It used to be her home. Now it felt like a fortress.
She rang the bell.
The butler, Higgins, opened the door. He looked down his nose at her.
"Miss Keira. The Master is busy."
"I don't care," Keira said, pushing past him. "I have an appointment."
She stormed into the foyer.
Janie was in the living room, lounging on a silk sofa, filing her nails.
She looked up.
"Well, well," she drawled. "The beggar returns."
"Where is Dad?" Keira demanded.
"Daddy's busy," Janie smiled. It was a shark's smile. "But I can handle you."
Outside, Jonah watched the security feed on his phone. He had hacked the Jacobson security system three days ago.
He saw Keira standing in the middle of the room, small but defiant.
He saw Janie's cruel smile.
His hand gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked.
Don't make me come in there, Janie.
