Chapter 3

The owner hit the floor so fast his knees cracked on the tile. He kowtowed right there in front of his own register, banging his forehead, babbling that it was all a joke, the sandwich was free, please, take anything.

"Lock the store," I said. "He stays here until I decide what to do with him."

Then I made one more call, and twelve minutes later a private medical team pushed through the door with cases of equipment. Three doctors surrounded Lily right there in the storage room, checking her pulse, her pupils, the bruises on her arms.

Lily shrank against me, overwhelmed by all the hands and voices. I kept my palm flat on her back and told her to let them work, that nobody here would hurt her.

The head doctor drew me aside and kept his voice low. "Severe malnutrition. Dehydration. Some of these bruises are weeks old and some are fresh. Madam, she needs a hospital."

"She gets the best care money can buy, starting tonight, at home," I said. "Hospitals ask questions, and I am not ready for questions yet."

He glanced at the armed men by the door and nodded very quickly.

We drove home with Lily curled against my side. She fell asleep before we left the city streets, and even in her sleep her fingers stayed twisted in my sleeve, like letting go was the most dangerous thing in the world.

The villa was dark except for the living room lights, and the moment we stepped into the foyer I heard a voice I knew well.

Rosa. My daughter's personal maid, the woman I had trusted with my child's daily life for years. She was standing in front of my hallway mirror, holding one of my evening gowns up against her body, and my jewelry case sat open on the table beside her.

She was on the phone, laughing. "Don't worry, baby. Mommy's coming to your party tonight. I'll wear the lady's blue gown, the real diamonds, everything. Nobody will know." A pause, and then her voice went soft and sly. "Of course I'll say I'm your mother. I am your mother. And as far as that whole school knows, you're the Kane heiress. Let's keep it that way."

Beside me, Lily went rigid.

Rosa turned, saw my daughter in the doorway, and didn't even bother to look ashamed. Her face settled into an expression I understood now, the one my daughter had lived under for half a year.

"You," she snapped. "What are you doing home? Did you eat? I can see it in your face, you greedy girl. You haven't dropped a single pound this week, have you?" She stalked closer. "Do you have any idea how much your fat is costing us? The bonus only pays when the scale moves."

She reached out and grabbed Lily's arm hard, right over the bruises.

That was as far as she got.

Two of my men came through the door behind us. One pinned Rosa's arms, and the other pulled a black hood over her head before she ever got a look at me. Her scream muffled into the fabric.

"Take her to the basement," I said quietly. "She doesn't eat until I say so. She likes diets so much, she can try one herself."

Down in the basement I stood where she couldn't place me, and I changed my voice, low and rough, the way I do when business needs a stranger's throat.

Rosa thought robbers had taken her, and she begged. She offered the jewelry upstairs, the cash in the study safe. And then, sobbing into the dark, she offered me the thing that told me everything about her.

"I'm just the maid," she wept. "But the lady of this house, Evelyn Kane, she's worth millions. She loves her daughter more than her own life. Take the girl. Take Lily. Her mother will pay anything you ask."

My daughter's name, in that woman's mouth, sold in under a minute.

I let the silence stretch until she started shaking harder, and then I leaned down close to her ear. "Good idea," I said in the stranger's voice. "We'll take the daughter. And after we've finished with hers—"

I paused.

"—we'll come back for yours."

Her scream was raw and instant. "No! Not Ashley! Please, not my baby, take the fat one, take anyone you want, not Ashley!"

She was still screaming when my man shut the basement door on her.

Upstairs, her phone was buzzing on the hallway table. Ashley, texting her mother.

"Mom, where are you? Everyone's asking. Did you get the dress?"

I read the message twice, and then I typed the reply myself.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Mom is on her way."