Unlike the formal business banquets, this crowd ran wilder. The games were dirtier.
A grand piano dominated the center of the hall, and beside it sat a violin that probably cost more than most people's cars.
Audrey perched at the piano bench, all doe eyes and dimples.
"Layla, I heard you used to be concertmaster. Since everyone's here tonight—why don't we play a duet?"
Anthony lounged in the seat of honor, swirling his wine, his gaze lazy and mocking.
"Play. If you're any good, I'll let last night's slap slide."
Not a request. An order.
I stared at that instrument, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
These hands had hauled bricks, scrubbed dishes, weathered chilblains until the skin cracked. My joints were stiff now. I couldn't coax out that weeping, aching melody anymore.
But I had no choice.
I lifted the violin and tucked it under my chin.
The moment bow met string, a raw, grating screech tore through the room.
Snickers rippled through the crowd.
Audrey's piano kicked in right after—but she sabotaged the tempo on purpose, rushing then dragging, rushing then dragging.
My sound collapsed into chaos.
Before the piece ended, Audrey froze mid-phrase, her hand flying to her throat.
"My necklace! That was the engagement necklace Anthony gave me—it's worth thirty million!"
The room exploded.
"It was just there!"
"How does something like that just vanish?"
Audrey's gaze slid to my open violin case.
"Layla, could it be…"
She didn't have to finish. Two bodyguards were already on me, ripping the case from my hands, shaking it out.
A diamond necklace tumbled from the hidden lining.
Caught red-handed.
Every face in the room wore the same look: of course.
"It wasn't me!"
I could've had a hundred mouths and it wouldn't have mattered.
"I never even touched it!"
Anthony rose and walked toward me, slow and deliberate.
He picked up the necklace, studied it, then looked at me.
That look—cold, flat, utterly done.
"Layla, when did you sink this low? If you needed money, you could've asked. Stealing?"
"I didn't!" The scream ripped out of me. "She planted it! The case was sitting there the whole time—I never moved!"
Audrey cowered behind Anthony, tears streaming prettily down her cheeks.
"Layla, if you liked it that much, I would've given it to you. Why steal? If word gets out, Anthony's reputation…"
Anthony's eyes slid shut. Patience gone.
"Sticky fingers. No use keeping you."
He flicked his wrist. Two guards seized my arms, one on each side, and slammed my hands flat against the table.
Anthony grabbed a wine bottle by the neck.
"If these hands can't make music—if all they know how to do is steal—then let's get rid of them."
My eyes went wide, locked on the bottle rising above me.
"Anthony! You can't do this! I was the one who sold my violin to help fund your startup—did you forget?!"
"Shut up!"
His roar shook the room. "Even now you're lying! You were the one who chased money, took it, and ran off with some other man!"
That. That was why he hated me.
That lie from years ago—it had festered in him like poison.
I was out of options.
Explanations were useless. Tears were useless. Whatever we'd once had was the biggest joke of all.
Crack.
The bottle came down.
White-hot pain exploded through my left hand. I heard bone shatter.
I didn't scream. Didn't cry.
When pain hits a certain point, it just… goes numb.
Blood and wine spread across the white tablecloth in a dark, creeping stain.
Anthony stared at that pool of red. His hand trembled. The bottle slipped from his grip and shattered on the floor.
He didn't expect me not to dodge.
I reached into my pocket with my uninjured right hand and pulled out a check.
Scott's advance from this morning. Fifty thousand dollars.
I slammed it onto the table—blood smearing across the paper, my handprint staining the numbers red.
I met Anthony's eyes. Mine were hollow.
"Mr. Vance."
"This hand pays for your necklace."
"This check covers the rest."
I turned and walked out, dragging my ruined hand behind me. Each step left a drop of blood on the floor.
"We're even."
