"You evil woman! What are you trying to do to my mommy and daddy!"

Something sharp sliced across my neck. I felt a thin line of cold, and when I reached up to touch it, my fingers came away red. Blood.

Elliot and Gladys's kid stood in front of me with his hands on his hips, chin jutted out in that insufferable way that was a carbon copy of his father.

Something clattered to the floor. I looked down and finally saw what it was: a small pair of scissors.

They weren't big, and a child didn't have much strength behind them, but they'd absolutely broken the skin on my neck.

I walked over, picked up the scissors, and threw them right back without hesitation. Elliot moved fast, lunging forward to shield the kid.

The scissors didn't touch his skin, though. Neither of them had so much as a scratch.

"Imogen! Have you lost your mind? He's a child!"

Gladys let out an ear-splitting shriek, throwing herself into Elliot's arms as she screamed.

"Elliot, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She looked him over from head to toe, then dropped to her knees to inspect the kid.

Once she'd confirmed they were both fine, she stormed over to me and slapped me across the face.

I didn't see it coming. She actually landed it.

But I wasn't someone who took a hit lying down. I slapped her right back.

Elliot clearly hadn't expected that a woman reduced to working as a servant would still have the nerve to fight back. He swung his arm and shoved me to the ground.

"You psycho! What the hell do you want? I get it now. You knew I'd be at the Farley gala tonight, so you planted yourself here on purpose, waiting to hurt my child and my wife!"

Gladys's screaming had already drawn a crowd. Now, with this new commotion, people closed in around us, whispering among themselves.

"Isn't that Mr. Sanchez? Why is he getting physical with a servant?"

"I saw the whole thing. That woman tried to hurt Mr. Sanchez's child!"

"Exactly. His wife got upset and tried to discipline her, and she actually had the gall to hit back!"

"Shameless. Just because she works for the Farleys, she thinks she's one of them? She's not even fit to shine Mr. Farley's shoes!"

I sat on the floor where Elliot had shoved me, listening to every word.

I thought of my own child. The one who was gone.

The bitterness and the absurdity of it nearly choked me. All I'd done was throw a pair of scissors back at Gladys's kid, and Elliot flew into a rage, putting his hands on me.

But my child, my own flesh and blood, had been lying in a hospital bed dying of a terminal illness, calling out for Daddy over and over again.

And he hadn't batted an eye.

I clenched my jaw. My fists tightened until my nails bit into my palms.

A few seconds later, I let go.

Let it go. Pick your battles.

I'd gone to the auction in secret, outbid everyone under a fake paddle number, and bought the Bloodstone Qilin that had been missing from the Farley collection for over a century. All for Dudley. All so I could surprise him tonight.

I wasn't about to let trash like this ruin it.

I got to my feet slowly. Glen had art class today. Dudley would've gone to pick him up by now and should be back any minute.

I needed to find somewhere to hide so I could surprise him and our son.

But the crowd kept running their mouths, each comment uglier than the last. Some called me shameless. Some called me a tramp. One man actually called me a homewrecker.

I genuinely didn't understand. Were these people blind? Where exactly did they get "homewrecker" from?

Did they just assume that when two women appeared near the same man, one of them had to be the other woman?

I shot a murderous glare at the man who'd called me a homewrecker.

He took one look at the venom on my face and shut his mouth.

But Elliot clearly wasn't done with me. Seeing the defiance still burning in my expression, he let out a cold laugh.

"He called you a homewrecker, and he wasn't wrong."

Elliot walked up to me and leaned in close, his voice pitched low enough for only the two of us to hear. "After all, the one who isn't loved is always the other woman."

Then he turned around and took Gladys's hand, raising it high for everyone to see.

"This is my wife. The only woman I will never betray."

The crowd erupted in cheers. People gushed about what a stand-up guy Elliot Sanchez was, what a responsible man.

I watched the spectacle and felt nothing but bitter amusement. On the day we graduated college, Elliot had said those exact same words to me.

Imogen, you're the only woman I'll ever marry. I will never love anyone else as long as I live.

During the years between our first date and our wedding, I'd believed every syllable. He'd given me no reason not to. He was attentive, responsive, present for me and for our child.

Then Gladys Fox appeared, and all of it crumbled to dust.

But if he could fall in love with Gladys while married to me, what guarantee did Gladys have that he wouldn't do the same to her?

A flicker of pity crossed my face before I could stop it. Elliot caught it, and for a second he looked thrown off, as though he assumed his words had wounded me.

He leaned in again, whispering against my ear. "I know things must have been rough for you since you got out of prison. How about this: I'll set you up with a place to stay. Every weekend, I'll come visit you. And if you behave yourself, maybe I'll stay a few extra days."

"Get lost."

I had no interest in entangling myself with Elliot Sanchez ever again. Dudley would be home any minute now.

All I wanted was to surprise my husband.

I turned and started walking away. But the moment I passed Gladys, her leg shot out.

Crack.

I hit the ground hard. The box in my pocket flew out and skidded across the floor.

I tried to push myself up, but the pain that tore through my knees was impossible to ignore.

Through the haze, I heard the whispers starting up again.

"That box looks awfully expensive. How would a servant have something like that? She probably stole it from the Farleys."

Elliot stared at the box, his expression calculating. He clearly believed them. In his mind, I'd stolen it from somewhere.

A second later, he walked over, picked it up, and opened the elegant case in front of everyone.

Nestled inside was the Bloodstone Qilin.

"Isn't that the Farley family's Bloodstone Qilin? The one that's been passed down for centuries?"

Gladys shrieked the moment she saw it.

The fact that the Bloodstone Qilin was a Farley heirloom was no secret in Crestfield. Most people knew it had been stolen over a hundred years ago.

I had spent months tracking down every lead, following every thread, until I finally discovered where the Bloodstone Qilin had ended up. Then I'd placed the winning bid at auction.

All so I could surprise Dudley today.

I never imagined the treasure I'd fought so hard to win would end up in someone else's hands.

I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and forced myself to my feet, reaching for what was mine. But Elliot's grip on the Bloodstone Qilin tightened like a vise, disbelief stamped across his face.

The people around us had recognized it too. Suspicion gleamed in every pair of eyes.

"So that's why you showed up at the Farley estate. For the Bloodstone Qilin."

"Stealing other women's husbands wasn't enough for you? Now you're stealing family heirlooms too?"

Gladys's words set the crowd ablaze. I lunged forward, ignoring the pain, but Elliot seized my arm and held me in place.

"This isn't the real Bloodstone Qilin. Anyone with eyes can see it's a fake." He scoffed. "She was just trying to use this knockoff to swindle the Farleys out of their money."

Elliot put the artifact back in its box and shot me a warning look.

"This thing's been lost for centuries. How would a servant end up with it? It's obviously a fake!"

"She's right. Something this precious, and even the Farleys couldn't track it down? But somehow she found it?"

The crowd murmured in agreement. No one believed someone of my station could possibly have gotten her hands on the Bloodstone Qilin.

"This woman made a counterfeit, and I'm going to teach her a lesson she won't forget!" Gladys pulled out her phone and dialed. "I'm sending you straight to the police!"

Within minutes, the wail of a patrol car cut through the air. Elliot grabbed my arm without ceremony and dragged me toward the front entrance.

"Imogen, if you beg me right now, I can make this go away."

I didn't even look at him. Beg? He could keep dreaming.

I hadn't broken any laws. Why would I beg anyone for anything?

Least of all this worthless excuse for a man.

The front doors loomed ahead, officers already waiting on the other side. Elliot panicked. He seized my shoulders and forced me to stop.

"Do you really have to be this stubborn? Just swallow your pride for once! Whether this is a fake or something that actually belongs to the Farleys, blowing this up won't end well for anyone!"

I gave him a sidelong glance, my eyes full of contempt.

"I don't bow to dogs."

"You—!"

His face went scarlet.

"Fine! Then don't blame me for washing my hands of you. I'd love to see how you explain yourself to the police!"

Gladys and I, the accuser and the accused, were taken to the station. Elliot followed close behind.

Gladys watched me the whole ride. When I said nothing, she mistook my silence for fear, and the look she gave me turned even more scornful.

"Officers, look!" She held up the box the moment we walked in. "This is the Farleys' legendary Bloodstone Qilin! And it was found on a servant. If she didn't steal it, how else would she have gotten it? On top of that, this woman has a criminal record! Lock her up!"

The officer on duty listened to Gladys, then looked me up and down in my servant's uniform. Disdain settled over his face immediately.

"All right. Start talking. How'd you get this?"

"I bought it. Give it back."

He didn't believe a word. In his eyes, a servant couldn't possibly afford the Bloodstone Qilin.

"If the Farleys find out about this, you're done for. So you'd better come clean now. Cooperate and maybe you'll get a lighter sentence. Unless you're eager to go back to prison?"

Gladys's shrill voice cut in from beside me. I ignored her completely.

I turned to the officer and asked if I could make a phone call. He nodded. I pulled out my phone and dialed Dudley's number.

The call connected.

And in that same instant, the phone was slapped out of my hand. It hit the concrete floor with a sickening crack.