The Haynes penthouse smelled of lilies and denial.
Camille walked in. Her mother and Mia were in the living room, looking at fabric swatches for Mia's engagement party.
"You're back," Victoria said without looking up. "Did you beg for money on the street corner? That card is cancelled, you know."
Camille walked past them to her old bedroom.
She pushed the door open.
It wasn't her room anymore. It was a walk-in closet for Mia. Racks of designer dresses filled the space.
In the corner, a single black garbage bag sat on the floor.
Camille walked over and opened it. Inside were a few old photos and a stuffed bear she had since she was five. That was it. Her entire life, reduced to trash. She carefully placed the contents into the new leather briefcase she had bought.
Rage, cold and sharp, filled her chest.
"Oh, good, you found your luggage," Mia said from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, smirking. "It suits you."
Camille picked up the briefcase. She turned around.
"Move," she said.
Mia stuck her foot out, trying to trip Camille.
Camille didn't trip. She stomped down hard, her heel pressing onto Mia's foot.
"Ow!" Mia shrieked, hopping on one leg. "You ruined my Manolos!"
Victoria came running. "What did you do? You animal!"
She raised her hand to slap Camille.
Camille caught her wrist in mid-air.
"I'm done being the punching bag," Camille said. Her other hand instinctively clenched into a fist, a gesture so subtle no one would notice, but to her it was a shield of steel.
She twisted Victoria's arm. She applied pressure to the shoulder joint.
Pop.
It was a wet, sickening sound.
Victoria screamed. It was a primal sound of pain. She dropped to her knees, clutching her dangling arm.
"My shoulder! You broke my shoulder!"
Mia grabbed a glass of red wine from the table and threw the contents at Camille.
Camille dodged. The wine splashed across the wall, staining the silk wallpaper like blood.
Camille took a step toward Mia. Mia backed up until she hit the wall, trembling.
Camille pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen.
Recording playing.
Victoria's voice filled the room. "You are a stain on this family... sign or starve..."
"If I send this to the tabloids," Camille said calmly, "Haynes stock drops ten points by morning."
"Get her!" Victoria wailed from the floor. "Maria! Call security!"
The maid, Maria, stood in the kitchen doorway, shaking. She didn't move.
Suddenly, a low rumble vibrated through the floor.
It was the sound of engines. Many of them.
The doorbell rang. Then a heavy, authoritative knock.
Maria ran to open it.
A wall of black suits stood in the hallway. Six bodyguards.
They parted.
Horatio Melton walked through. He filled the doorway. He looked at the scene-the screaming mother, the terrified sister, the wine on the wall.
His eyes landed on Camille. She was holding a leather briefcase, standing tall amidst the wreckage.
"Ready to go?" Horatio asked.
