Chapter 6

The penthouse smelled different. It took Estella a moment to realize what it was-the scent of her own perfume was gone, replaced by Jana's heavier, sweeter fragrance. It was a small detail, but it felt like a violation.

She stepped into the living room and stopped.

The space was in chaos. Moving boxes were stacked high, and two men in uniforms were carefully wrapping a bronze sculpture in bubble wrap. Jana was standing by the bookshelf, pointing at a set of leather-bound books, while Brenda supervised the removal of the curtains.

Jana turned at the sound of the door. She was wearing Estella's favorite Chanel suit-the cream one with the gold buttons. On her wrist glittered the diamond tennis bracelet Conrad had given Estella for their fifth anniversary.

"What are you doing here?" Jana asked, her lip curling. "Your forty-eight hours are almost up."

Brenda looked up from her phone, her face pinched. "Estella, don't cause a scene. We're busy."

Estella ignored them both. She walked straight past the moving boxes, heading for the hallway.

Jana stepped in her way, blocking the path to the study. "Where do you think you're going? Conrad said everything in there is his."

"I'm not taking his things," Estella said, her voice quiet and cold. "I'm taking mine."

She sidestepped Jana and pushed open the study door. The room was already half-empty, the walls bare where the art had been taken down. She walked to the built-in bookshelf and knelt down, pressing her finger against the hidden panel.

The safe clicked open.

Behind her, she heard the click of heels. Brenda and Jana were standing in the doorway, their eyes gleaming with a greedy curiosity.

Estella reached inside. There was no cash, no jewelry. Just the thick leather portfolio. She pulled it out, checking the buckles to ensure it was secure.

"That's it?" Jana scoffed, leaning against the doorframe. "You hid a bunch of papers in a safe? What is that, your recipes?"

"Probably her diary," Brenda said with a dismissive sniff. "Honestly, Estella, taking that trash out of the house? It's embarrassing."

"You have no skills, no money, and no future," Jana said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Those papers aren't going to pay your rent."

Estella stood up, clutching the portfolio to her chest. She walked toward the door, but Jana didn't move out of her way. She had to brush past her sister, close enough to smell her own perfume on Jana's skin.

As she walked back through the living room, something caught her eye. Propped against the wall, half-hidden behind a stack of boxes, was a painting. It was a small watercolor, a landscape of the Hudson River. It was the only thing she had left of her father's.

The frame was chipped. The canvas had a crease in it where something heavy had been leaned against it.

Her heart squeezed, a sharp, physical pain in her chest. She took a step toward it.

Jana noticed her look. A malicious smile spread across her face. She walked over to the painting, her heels clicking on the floor. She looked down at it, then looked at Estella.

"Oops," Jana said, lifting her foot and kicking the edge of the frame with the pointed toe of her shoe. The painting skidded across the floor, slamming into the baseboard. "Clumsy me."

Estella's hands balled into fists. The rage was a hot, living thing inside her, screaming at her to lunge, to scratch, to fight. She wanted to wipe that smug smile off Jana's face.

But she looked at the movers, who were watching with wide eyes. She looked at Brenda, who was smirking. She looked at the expensive suit Jana was wearing, the diamonds on her wrist.

They weren't worth it. This place wasn't worth it.

Estella took a deep breath, forcing her fists to open. She looked at Jana, then at Brenda, memorizing the greed and cruelty on their faces.

"Enjoy the curtains," Estella said, her voice like ice. She turned and walked out the front door, the leather portfolio tight in her grip.

She didn't look back. She didn't need them. She had her future in her hands.