Chapter 4

Julian and Chloe both shot to their feet. Their faces were almost comical.

"Ms. Pemberton? What are you doing here?"

"You're—you don't make house calls. Why would you show up for someone like Eve?"

Chloe rubbed her eyes as if she'd seen a mirage. She rubbed them several more times. Nadia Pemberton was still there.

"It's really her. Actually her."

Nadia didn't grant Julian or Chloe so much as a glance. She crossed the floor toward me with the kind of deference you'd expect at a state dinner.

"Ms. Ashford. Ms. Whitmore asked me to handle this while she's on her way over."

Then she took in my torn gown, the wine in my hair, the blood at the corner of my mouth. Her expression chilled.

"Who in this room gave themselves permission to do that to Ms. Ashford?"

The dining room went dead silent. You could hear the candles burning.

If the Harringtons were the top of Manhattan's new money, Nadia Pemberton's network and her family's capital were old money with teeth. They could eat the Harringtons before dessert.

People had wondered for years how the Harringtons had climbed the Forbes list so fast. None of them guessed the truth: the "useless trophy wife" they were all laughing at had done it. Julian had told me once, early in our marriage, "I want to be number one. I want to be able to hand you a black card and tell you to burn it."

So I'd put him on top.

I could also take him back down.

Under Nadia's stare, the room didn't dare whisper. Chloe had gone white as the tablecloth, her lips trembling.

"Eve actually—actually has a friend who paid the bill?"

Our little bet was still live. If I could pay, she crawled out on all fours with raw steak in her teeth.

"No. That's not possible. Nadia Pemberton is not her friend."

No one answered her. No one breathed.

Nadia's eyes slid to her. "The damage to Ms. Ashford's dress. That was your doing?"

Chloe's knees buckled. Julian caught her.

"Don't," he said to her, low. "I'm here. We're still on our turf."

Chloe straightened, clinging to him. "Right. Clo— Julian's the top of Forbes. I can be scared of Nadia Pemberton. He doesn't have to be."

Julian looked at me, and he was still stupid enough to be arrogant.

"I don't care how you know Ms. Pemberton. Let me be clear to you and to her. In this city, the Harringtons write the rules."

"Ms. Pemberton. Respectfully. This is a family matter. Stay out of it."

"Three years ago I took your spot at the top of the list. I can put you on the street by morning—"

"Julian." Nadia's smile was a blade. "Three years ago, if Ms. Ashford hadn't personally vouched for you, a dozen people in this city would have eaten the Harrington Group for breakfast. Your empire exists because of her. You're going to sit there at her table, in her dress, and threaten me?"

Julian scoffed. He didn't believe a word.

I was tired. Tired of him, tired of this room, tired of my own patience.

In another few minutes I'd start making calls. Julian was about to learn what it costs to cross me.

"The bill is covered," I said evenly. "But Chloe made a promise earlier. I'd like her to honor it."