Serena didn't sleep that night. She spent the hours staring at the ceiling, listening to the rats scuttling in the walls of the warehouse.
Her phone rang at 7 AM. It was a collect call.
New York State Department of Corrections.
Serena accepted the charge.
"Mom?"
"Serena..." Eleanor's voice was thin, rasping. The cough was worse.
"How are you?" Serena asked, gripping the phone.
"The infirmary is... cold." Eleanor coughed. "The hearing is next month."
"I know. I'm preparing everything."
"I need... money, Serena. For the commissary. For... protection. There are women here who know who your father was. They make it hard."
Serena closed her eyes. Her father's Ponzi scheme had ruined thousands of lives. Even in prison, the hatred followed her mother.
"I'll send it," Serena said. "Don't worry."
She hung up and checked her bank account. The balance was pathetic. Most of her salary went to the lawyers. If she left Julian, she would have nothing.
She looked at the Ming vase. She had finished gluing the final piece at 4 AM. It was flawless. The collector was coming at noon.
He arrived on time. He inspected the work with a magnifying glass. He handed her a thick envelope of cash. It wasn't enough to save her mother, but it was a start.
Just then, her other phone rang. Julian's executive assistant.
"Ms. Vance, Mr. Sterling requires your presence at the gala tonight. The French investors are in town."
Serena laughed. It was a bitter sound. "I'm not his wife tonight. I'm off the clock. Send Victoria."
The assistant stammered. "Victoria... she doesn't speak French. And she doesn't understand the merger details. Mr. Sterling insists."
Serena looked at the cash on the table. She needed more. She needed a war chest.
"Tell him I'll do it. But I charge a consulting fee. Twenty thousand dollars. Cash."
There was a long silence. "I... I will ask."
Five minutes later, Julian called.
"Are you insane? You want to charge me to attend a dinner?"
"I'm an employee, Julian. Overtime is standard. If you want a translator and a hostess, pay for it. Or take your mute fiancée."
Julian let out a frustrated growl. "Fine. Just be there and look presentable."
Serena hung up.
She went to her closet in the studio. She pulled out an Empire-waist gown. It was deep blue silk, loose around the stomach but elegant.
She did her makeup. Sharp eyeliner. No red lipstick this time. Just cold, professional nude.
At the gala, she was perfect. She charmed the French CEO in flawless Parisian French. She discussed market trends. She laughed at their jokes.
She ignored Julian completely.
Julian watched her from across the table. He was used to Serena the shadow. This Serena was luminous. She was powerful.
For the first time in years, he looked at her with something other than indifference. He looked at her with hunger.
He tried to touch her arm after the dessert. "Serena, you were excellent."
Serena pulled away. "That's three hours. Twenty thousand dollars. Give me the envelope."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the envelope his assistant had prepared. He placed it in her hand.
Serena didn't say thank you. She put the cash in her clutch and walked out.
