"Going somewhere?"
The voice was like syrup laced with arsenic.
Dominique stood in front of the double doors, blocking the exit. She was wearing a silk robe that cost more than Aurelia's car. She held a glass of green juice, looking every inch the pampered heiress.
"Move, Dominique," Aurelia said. She was tired. Her bones ached with it.
"You're in a rush," Dominique said, taking a sip of her juice. Her eyes flicked to the battered suitcase. "Didn't even say goodbye. But then again, you always were rude."
Aurelia tried to step around her. Dominique didn't move. She just tilted her head and signaled to the head of security, who was standing by the coat closet.
"Check her bag," Dominique said.
Two large men in black suits stepped forward. Aurelia recognized the older one, Miller. He used to drive her to school. Now he wouldn't look her in the eye.
"This is ridiculous," Aurelia said, her grip tightening on her suitcase. "I'm leaving. Let me pass."
"Standard protocol for terminated employees," Dominique said with a shrug. "And let's be honest, that's all you were. A bad investment."
"I'm your sister," Aurelia snapped.
"You're a liability," Dominique corrected. "Miller, the bag."
Miller grabbed the suitcase. He didn't ask. He yanked it from Aurelia's hand with enough force to make her stumble. He threw it on the marble floor and unzipped it.
Clothes spilled out. Scrubs. A stethoscope. Old textbooks.
Dominique kicked a pair of gray sweatpants with the toe of her slipper. "God, it's pathetic. You live like a refugee."
"The tote bag too," Dominique ordered.
Miller reached for the canvas bag on Aurelia's shoulder.
"No," Aurelia said, pulling back. "That's personal."
Miller didn't care. He wrenched the bag from her shoulder and turned it upside down.
A hairbrush, a wallet, the photo frame, and a bottle of water fell out.
And then, with a distinct, heavy clink, something else hit the floor. It rolled in a small circle and came to a stop at Dominique's feet.
A massive sapphire ring surrounded by diamonds.
The silence in the foyer was absolute.
Aurelia stared at the ring. Her breath caught in her throat. She had never seen that ring before in her life.
"Oh my god," Dominique gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a performance worthy of an Oscar. "Preston's grandmother's ring! The Blackburn heirloom!"
"I didn't take that," Aurelia said. Her voice sounded thin to her own ears. "I've never even touched it."
"It fell out of your bag, Aurelia!" Catherine shouted, rushing in from the living room. She stared at the ring with horror. "You thief! You jealous, petty little thief!"
"It was planted," Aurelia said, looking at Miller. "He knows it. Look at him."
Miller was staring at the floor, his jaw tight.
Dominique pulled out her phone. "I'm recording this. For the police."
"Don't," Aurelia said, stepping forward. "If you file a police report, it goes on my record. I'll never get my medical license back."
"That's the point, isn't it?" Dominique smiled. It was a cold, sharp smile. "You tried to ruin my engagement, so now I ruin your life. Fair trade."
Aurelia's mind raced. She looked at the bag on the floor. The side pocket zipper was half open. She always kept it fully zipped.
The sound of a car engine cut through the tension. Tires crunched on gravel outside.
The heavy front doors swung open.
"Preston is here," Dominique whispered, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Perfect timing."
Aurelia felt the blood drain from her face. Not Preston. Anyone but him. She could handle the police. She could handle her father. But seeing the man she used to love witness this?
That was a cruelty she wasn't prepared for.
