Chapter 3

Gemma pulled the door open and stepped out of the study.

Katelyn was pacing the carpeted hallway, chewing aggressively on her lower lip.

She rushed forward the second she saw Gemma. "Did he yell at you? Are you okay?" Katelyn asked, her eyes scanning Gemma's face for signs of tears.

Gemma casually tapped the screen of the tablet in her hand. "I just got ten percent of the family trust."

The mask of concern on Katelyn's face shattered. The muscles around her mouth twitched violently.

"How... how could you possibly get trust shares?" Katelyn stammered. Her voice pitched up, sharp and entirely out of bounds for a mere friend.

Gemma looked down at her, her eyes flat and cold. "Since when is my family's money any of your concern?"

Katelyn's breath hitched. She immediately dropped her gaze, biting her lip harder, forcing a look of wounded innocence.

Gemma didn't wait for an apology. She walked past her, heading straight for the powder room at the end of the hall.

Katelyn waited until Gemma's footsteps faded. Her hands balled into tight fists. Her nails dug into her palms until the skin nearly broke.

She darted into a small utility closet across the hall and pulled the door shut.

She dug into the lining of her purse and pulled out a cheap, prepaid burner phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed a memorized number.

"Mom," Katelyn hissed into the receiver the second it connected. "She didn't run. She just took ten percent of the company."

Miles away, Donia Bruce sat up so fast she knocked a bottle of essential oil off her massage table. The glass shattered against the tiles.

"Calm down," Donia ordered, her voice tight. "It's a fluke. She's an idiot."

"She looked at me like she wanted to kill me!" Katelyn argued, her chest heaving. "She's not acting like herself."

"Then we move to Plan B," Donia said coldly. "Ruin her tonight. Make sure the Hubbard boy sees it."

"How?"

"Use the artist. Tell her he's going to kill himself. Get her down to the side entrance where the paparazzi are grouped."

A dark, venomous light sparked in Katelyn's eyes. "I will. She's going to lose everything."

Katelyn ended the call. She took a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the metal surface of a mop bucket. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a soft, supportive smile.

She pushed the closet door open and stepped out.

Gemma was walking back down the hall, adjusting the heavy diamond necklace.

Katelyn hurried over and gently linked her arm through Gemma's.

Every muscle in Gemma's body screamed to snap the girl's neck. She forced herself to remain still. She noticed the fine sheen of sweat on the bridge of Katelyn's nose.

"Gemma," Katelyn whispered, her voice trembling perfectly. "Jair is freezing out there. He's waiting in the rain just to see you one last time."

Gemma kept her face blank. She hadn't gone far. Leaning against the wall just a few feet away, she had picked up the muffled vibrations through the door and the suppressed, frantic pitch of Katelyn's voice, piecing together the crucial fragments of the conversation: "Plan B" and "the Hubbard boy."

She stopped walking. She let her shoulders slump slightly, manufacturing a look of deep, painful conflict.

Katelyn saw the hesitation and immediately pressed her advantage. She shoved her own phone into Gemma's hands. "Look. He sent a suicide note. He's going to end it if you don't come."

Gemma stared at the screen. The pathetic, manipulative text messages made her stomach physically churn.

"What do I do?" Gemma asked, making her voice sound small and fragile.

Katelyn's eyes gleamed with suppressed triumph. She pointed toward the grand staircase. "Go to the side door by the media pit. He's hiding behind the hedges there."

Gemma gave a slow, hesitant nod.

She lowered her eyelashes, hiding the absolute bloodlust burning in her pupils. The trap was set.