Chapter 4: Too Late to Take the Evidence

Audrey tossed the blood-smeared gavel back onto the table.

“There. That got a reaction.”

She motioned for the cameraman to zoom in on my hand.

The club’s official account was livestreaming.

Comments flew across the screen.

Some people asked if it was staged. Others recognized Miles. A few took screenshots of my bleeding hand and reposted them with captions like, *Gold Digger Gets What's Coming to Her at High-Society Party.*

I pressed my hand over the cut and gathered the two halves of the brooch.

“End the livestream. Open the door.”

The club manager stood behind the crowd, pretending not to hear me.

Miles leaned in, his voice a low hiss. “Just play along, Elena. Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is. Once the last item is sold, everyone will go home.”

“What’s the last item?”

Audrey’s gaze dropped to the wedding dress I was wearing.

She didn’t have to answer. Someone in the audience did it for her.

“How about whoever buys the dress gets the bride for drinks all night?”

A club member named Cole Landon shoved his way to the front. Months ago, at a party, he’d put a hand on my back, and I’d pushed him away in front of everyone. He’d never forgiven me for it.

He threw a stack of bills onto the stage.

“One thousand dollars. And I’ll collect the prize myself.”

The men around him hooted.

Miles didn’t stop them. He just leaned back in his chair and laughed.

“She’s got a temper, Cole. You might not be able to handle her.”

Cole climbed onto the stage and grabbed my shoulder strap.

I drove my knee into his gut, knocking him back as I spun toward the exit.

A security guard threw out an arm, blocking my path.

“Ms. Winthrop's orders. No one leaves until the show is over.”

I looked at Miles. “Your decision, too?”

He didn’t deny it.

“If you walk out now, you'll make it look like the Carringtons bullied you. Once they’ve had their fun, I’ll have the driver take you home.”

“You’re not afraid I’ll get hurt.”

“You’re just afraid I’ll leave with the evidence.”

His face darkened.

He lunged for my phone, but I’d already sent the recording to Renee Foster and shared my live location.

My grandmother taught me the first rule of self-preservation: get the evidence off the device before they can take the device from you.

The delivery confirmation flashed on the screen.

I looked up at him.

“Too late.”