The morning sun filtered through the dirty basement window. Adeline sat on the floor, stretching her limbs, preparing her body for the physical toll of the night ahead.

She reached into her hair, expertly weaving two ultra-thin surgical needles into her messy bun.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. The butler opened the door, followed by two snobby stylists. "Get her ready," the butler sneered.

Adeline instantly dropped her shoulders, letting her mouth hang open slightly. She let the stylists drag her upstairs.

In the guest room, they tossed a hideous, outdated, cheap pink lace dress onto the bed. Katrina's doing. She wanted Adeline to look like a clown next to Damaris.

Adeline clapped her hands. "Pretty pink!" she cheered, slipping into the scratchy fabric.

Down the hall, Damaris's room looked like a runway backstage. Damaris stood in front of a full-length mirror, wearing a stunning, custom-made silver gown.

Katrina walked in, holding a heavy velvet jewelry box. She opened it. Inside sat a breathtaking diamond necklace, the stones cut with flawless precision.

"The Herring family sent this this morning," Katrina whispered. "For the future Mrs. Herring to wear tonight."

Damaris's eyes widened with pure greed. She didn't hesitate. She snatched the necklace and fastened it around her own neck. "It looks better on me anyway. That retard would just break it."

Adeline, pretending to wander the hallway, saw everything through the cracked door.

She didn't feel angry. She felt a surge of dark amusement. Damaris's vanity was going to be the perfect weapon.

Adeline went back to her room. With quick, precise movements, she used a sewing needle to create hidden pockets inside the tulle of her pink dress, slipping in her lockpicks and micro-phone.

By late afternoon, the estate was buzzing. Ewell stood by the front door, checking his Rolex. He glared at Adeline, who was sitting on the floor playing with a loose thread.

"Keep your head down tonight. Don't speak. Don't eat unless told," Ewell barked.

Adeline nodded frantically, shrinking away from him.

Damaris walked down the grand staircase. The diamonds sparkled against her skin. She looked at Adeline's pink dress and laughed out loud. "You look like a cheap cupcake. Stay out of my way tonight."

Adeline smiled vacantly. Enjoy the diamonds while you can, peacock.

Ewell led them out to the waiting stretch Lincoln. Damaris suddenly stopped. "Oh, I forgot my lipstick. I'll be right back."

Damaris ran back inside. As she passed Adeline in the foyer, her face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You aren't going anywhere tonight."

Damaris shoved Adeline hard.

Adeline stumbled backward, tumbling down the stairs into the basement. She hit the ground, faking a cry of pain.

The heavy iron door slammed shut. The lock clicked into place. Damaris tossed the key into a decorative vase and ran out to the car.

"She threw a tantrum," Damaris lied to Ewell. "She ran to the backyard to play in the mud. She refuses to come."

Ewell checked his watch again, his face tight with anxiety. "Forget her. As long as I sign the papers, Herring won't care. Drive."

The Lincoln pulled away.

Down in the dark basement, Adeline stood up. She brushed the dust off her pink dress. She reached into her hair and pulled out the surgical needle.

She walked up the stairs to the locked iron door.

Adeline slid the thin surgical needle into the rusted keyhole of the basement door. Her sensitive fingertips felt the subtle vibrations of the internal pins.

Click. Click. Snap.

It took less than ten seconds. The heavy iron lock popped open.

Adeline pushed the door aside and moved silently through the empty house. She bypassed the main security cameras and slipped into the garage.

She ignored Ewell's luxury cars and walked straight to the unassuming Ford sedan used for grocery runs. She didn't need to hotwire it; her sharp eyes had caught the chauffeur hiding the spare key inside the magnetic box under the rear wheel well earlier that week. She crouched down, her fingers brushing against the cold metal undercarriage until they found the small black box. She snatched it, pulled out the key, and slid into the driver's seat.

With a smooth twist of the key, the engine roared to life, the steady hum vibrating through the steering wheel.

Adeline threw the car into reverse, tires screeching against the concrete as she sped out of the estate, merging onto the highway toward Manhattan.

Inside the opulent Grand Ballroom of The Plaza Hotel, crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over New York's elite.

Ewell and Katrina paraded Damaris through the crowd. The custom diamond necklace around Damaris's neck caught the light, drawing envious stares from the socialites.

"Is she the one marrying Mr. Herring?" a woman whispered.

Damaris smiled coyly, neither confirming nor denying, soaking in the intoxicating feeling of absolute power.

Suddenly, the massive double doors of the ballroom were pushed open by two towering bodyguards. The low hum of conversation died instantly.

Griffin Herring walked in.

He wore a bespoke black suit that seemed to absorb the light. His presence was suffocating. His dark, predatory eyes swept the room, radiating a cold, violent authority. The crowd instinctively parted for him.

Ewell broke into a nervous sweat. He grabbed Damaris's arm and rushed forward, a sickeningly eager smile on his face. "Mr. Herring! So glad you could make it."

Griffin stopped. He didn't look at Ewell. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "Where is my fiancé?"

Ewell swallowed hard. "Adeline... she wasn't feeling well. She stayed behind. But Damaris is here to represent our family!"

Griffin's eyes finally shifted to Damaris. The temperature in the room plummeted.

Damaris puffed out her chest, batting her eyelashes, hoping to captivate the billionaire.

But Griffin wasn't looking at her face. His gaze was locked onto her neck.

He recognized the diamonds instantly. He had personally ordered them pulled from the Herring family vault. They were a singular, irreplaceable marker meant for his property.

The muscles in Griffin's jaw feathered. The touch-induced mania he constantly battled flared, fueled by the sheer audacity of the theft. His territory had been violated.

"Where did you get that?" Griffin asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Damaris blushed, completely misreading his tone. "Oh, this? My mother gave it to me as a gift."

Griffin let out a laugh. It was a terrifying, hollow sound that made the hair on Ewell's arms stand up.

Griffin looked at Ewell, his eyes burning with a psychotic rage. "Do you think the Herring family's markers are cheap trinkets for thieves to play with?"

Ewell's face drained of all color. He realized the catastrophic mistake Katrina had made. "Mr. Herring, please, it's a misunderstanding-"

Griffin raised one hand.

Two massive bodyguards stepped forward. They grabbed Damaris by the shoulders, pinning her in place.

Griffin stood over her, his eyes devoid of any human empathy.