The auditors moved through the Pruitt mansion like a swarm of locusts in expensive suits.
Isla led the way to Elena's wing. Elena was having tea in her sitting room. When she saw them, she dropped her cup. Tea soaked into the Persian rug.
"What is the meaning of this?" Elena shrieked. "Get out!"
Isla held up the court order signed by Arthur. Asset Recovery.
"These are my things!" Elena cried, blocking the door to her dressing room.
Isla signaled the lead auditor. He stepped forward with a metal detector wand.
_Move,_ Isla typed.
Elena didn't move. Kael gently but firmly moved her aside.
They went in. The auditors began opening drawers. Isla went straight to the hidden panel behind the full-length mirror. She knew it was there. She used to hide there when she was a child, listening to Elena complain about her.
Isla pointed. "Open it."
The auditor pried the panel loose. A safe.
_Code?_ Isla typed to Elena.
Elena glared at her, hate radiating off her in waves. "Go to hell."
"Drill it," Isla commanded via the tablet.
"No!" Elena lunged forward. She punched in the code, her fingers stabbing the keypad.
The door swung open.
Isla's mother's jewelry. The sapphires. The diamonds. The pieces Elena had sworn were lost or sold.
Isla picked up a sapphire necklace. It felt heavy, cold. She remembered the smell of her mother's perfume when she wore it.
"That's mine!" Elena screamed. "I've worn it for ten years!"
Isla stepped aside as Elena tried to grab it. Elena stumbled, catching herself on the vanity.
The auditors cataloged everything. But as the pile grew, Isla's stomach tightened.
The Emerald Ring. The signet. It wasn't there.
Isla turned to Elena. She held up a photo of it on her phone.
Elena smiled. It was a vicious, broken thing. "Brande has it. She wore it out. Said it matched her eyes."
Isla's blood ran cold. That ring was the key to the vault.
_Where is she?_
"Blue Note," Elena sneered. "With her fiancé."
Isla turned on her heel. "Pack everything," she instructed the auditors. "If one earring is missing, I sue."
She marched out to the car. As the door closed, a wave of nausea hit her, sharp and sudden. Isla pressed her palm against her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. It was more than just stress. It was a secret, growing inside her, a silent deadline that made retrieving that ring, securing her mother's assets, an absolute, non-negotiable imperative. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about survival-for two of them. "Blue Note Jazz Club," Isla typed to the driver.
Rain began to streak the windows.
Inside the club, the air was thick with smoke and saxophone notes. Brande was at a booth, waving her hand around, the emerald flashing in the dim light. Chase was next to her, sullenly nursing a whiskey.
Up on the mezzanine, in the VIP shadows, Julian Curtis swirled his drink.
"Isn't that the girl who supposedly saved you?" his friend asked, pointing at Brande. "She looks... trashy."
Julian's eyes narrowed. "I'm beginning to think she's a fraud." He had been tracking Brande, not Isla. Her credit card charges led him here. He needed to confirm his suspicions about the Aspen incident, and this seemed like the perfect place for a chaotic confession.
Then he saw Isla.
She walked in from the rain, her hair plastered to her cheeks, her eyes fixed on that ring. She looked like a drowned rat, but she moved like a missile.
Julian set his glass down. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the railing.
"Showtime," he whispered.
