The Maybach tore through the streets of Manhattan. Nathaniel's driver knew better than to ask questions. Nathaniel sat in the back, checking the GPS tracker on Colin's phone. They were converging on the hospital.

When Nathaniel arrived at the Mount Sinai VIP entrance, Colin was just helping Victoria out of a town car. She was surrounded by shopping bags, looking pristine and confused.

Nathaniel didn't wait. He stormed over and grabbed her arm.

"You have some nerve," he hissed.

Victoria looked at him, her eyes wide and innocent behind the sunglasses. "Nathaniel? What are we doing here? I thought you were in a meeting."

"Don't play dumb," Nathaniel snarled. "Money buys distance, doesn't it? You thought you could pay someone off and then go shopping for handbags?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Victoria said, planting her feet as he tried to pull her toward the doors.

"Julia was in a car accident," Nathaniel said, his voice shaking with rage. "A truck ran her off the road."

Victoria frowned. "Is she hurt?"

"Don't pretend you care!" Nathaniel spat. "You did this. You're coming with me. You're going to look her in the eye."

He dragged her through the lobby. Victoria stumbled slightly in her heels, allowing him to pull her. She could have broken his wrist in three different ways, but she let him lead. There were cameras. There were witnesses. She had to play the victim.

They burst into Room 302.

Julia Evans was lying in the bed. Her head was wrapped in a dramatic amount of gauze. Her leg was elevated in a cast. She looked small, fragile, and incredibly pale.

When she saw Nathaniel, she let out a sob. "Nate..."

Nathaniel rushed to her side, releasing Victoria. He touched Julia's face gently. "I'm here. You're safe."

Then Julia saw Victoria standing in the doorway. She flinched, shrinking back against the pillows, her eyes widening in theatrical terror.

"Please," Julia whispered. "Don't let her hurt me again."

Nathaniel turned on his heel. He looked at Victoria with disgusted fury. "See? She's terrified of you."

Victoria leaned against the doorframe. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes weren't looking at Nathaniel; they were scanning Julia.

She looked at the bandages. The blood seepage was too bright, too uniform. Fresh blood oxidizes quickly; this looked like theatrical paint. She looked at the cast. It was real plaster, but the muscle tone in Julia's thigh was relaxed. If the leg were truly broken, the muscles would be tense with pain.

"She's acting, Nathaniel," Victoria said calmly.

"Get out!" Nathaniel shouted. "Have you no shame?"

"It was a truck," Julia wept. "A black truck. It just... it swerved right into me. I saw the driver. He was looking right at me."

"I'll find him," Nathaniel promised. "I'll kill him."

"If I wanted her dead," Victoria said, her voice cutting through the melodrama, "she wouldn't be talking. She wouldn't have a scratch on her. She would have simply ceased to exist."

The room went silent. Nathaniel stared at her, shocked by the cold brutality of the statement.

"You're threatening her?"

"I'm stating a fact," Victoria said. "Defamation is a tort in New York, Julia. Accusing me of attempted murder is a serious allegation."

"I didn't say it was you," Julia stammered, clutching Nathaniel's hand. "I just... I feel like someone hates me."

"I don't hate you," Victoria said. "I don't think about you at all."

She pulled out her phone. "I'm recording this. For my lawyers."

"Put that away," Nathaniel commanded. He stepped between them, acting the shield.

"No," Victoria said. "I want the police report. I want to know where this accident happened."

Nathaniel lunged for the phone. He was fast, fueled by adrenaline and rage. He swiped at her hand.

Victoria didn't execute a martial arts block. That would break cover. instead, she seemed to lose her balance on her high heel, stumbling backward just as he swiped.

Nathaniel's hand swiped through empty air where her phone had been a split second before. His momentum carried him forward, and he slammed his hand hard against the wall behind her.

Thud.

The sound was loud. Nathaniel gasped, clutching his bruised knuckles. He looked at Victoria, bewildered. It looked like a clumsy accident, yet she was perfectly unharmed.

Victoria stood up straight, adjusting her coat.

"Careful, Nathaniel," she said softly. "You're clumsy when you're angry."

Julia was staring at her too. For a brief moment, the fear in her eyes wasn't fake.

"Call the police," Victoria said. "I love the NYPD. Let's get them in here."

Two uniformed officers knocked on the open door a moment later. They looked uncomfortable, sensing the domestic volatility in the room.

"Mr. Sterling?" one officer asked. "We have the preliminary accident report."

"Arrest her," Nathaniel said, pointing at Victoria with his uninjured hand. "She orchestrated this."

The officer blinked. "Sir, we need evidence before we can arrest anyone."

"I have evidence!" Julia cried from the bed. "My phone. I got a text."

She fumbled for her phone on the bedside table. She held it up. "Look. Right before the crash."

Nathaniel took the phone. He showed it to the officer. There was a text message from an unknown number.

Disappear or else.

"See?" Nathaniel said. "She threatened her."

Victoria walked over. She didn't ask for permission. She peered at the screen over the officer's shoulder.

"That text was received at 2:00 PM," Victoria said.

"So?" Nathaniel challenged.

"At 2:00 PM, I was at Bergdorf Goodman," Victoria said. "With your assistant, Colin. I was buying a very expensive handbag. You can check the timestamp on the receipt. You can check the security footage."

Colin, who was hovering in the hallway, stepped forward. "She... she's right, Mr. Sterling. I was with her the whole time. She didn't use her phone except to call you."

Nathaniel faltered. "She could have hired someone. She could have sent the text remotely."

"Officer," Victoria said, putting on a mask of confused innocence. "Isn't it true that these spam texts usually come from the internet? Like those robo-calls? Can't you trace where it came from?"

The officer nodded. "We can ask Cyber Crimes to look at the headers, ma'am. But it takes time."

"Nathaniel," Victoria said, turning to him. "You own a tech company. Surely your security team can look at the digital footprint faster than the precinct?"

Nathaniel looked at her. Her eyes were clear, challenging him.

He pulled out his own phone. He called his head of cybersecurity. "I'm sending you a number. Trace it. Now."

He read the number from Julia's phone.

Julia lay back against the pillows. She looked paler now. "Nate, please... does it matter? I'm hurt."

"It matters," Victoria said. She sat down in the visitor's chair, crossing her legs. "Where did the accident happen, Officer?"

"Queens," the officer said. "An industrial access road near the old shipyards."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. She looked at Julia. "Scenic drive, Julia? In a construction zone? In Queens?"

Julia swallowed hard. "I... I was lost. I took a wrong turn."

"In the age of GPS?" Victoria scoffed. "You were there because there are no traffic cameras on that road. It's a blind spot."

The officers exchanged a look. They were seasoned cops. They knew when a story smelled bad.

Nathaniel looked at Julia. He saw the sheen of sweat on her upper lip. But then he looked at her bandaged leg, and his heart softened. She was a victim. Victoria was just twisting words.

"That's enough," Nathaniel said. "You're upsetting her. Get out."

"I'm leaving because I'm bored," Victoria stood up and smoothed her coat. "Not because you told me to."

She walked to the door. She stopped and looked back at the officers.

"Check the skid marks," she said. "Just to be thorough."

She walked out. Nathaniel watched her go. He felt a headache building behind his eyes.

Nathaniel caught up to her in the parking lot. It had started to rain, a cold, gray drizzle that turned the New York skyline into a watercolor smear.

Victoria was standing by the curb, waiting. She wasn't shivering. She stood like a statue.

"Victoria!" Nathaniel called out.

She turned. The rain had plastered a few strands of hair to her cheek.

Colin came running up behind Nathaniel, holding a tablet over his head to shield it from the rain.

"Mr. Sterling!" Colin gasped. "The trace came back."

Nathaniel stopped. He grabbed the tablet.

Origin: Unknown / Masked VPN.

Location: Routed through server nodes in Cayman Islands, Panama, and Russia.

"It's a dead end," Colin said apologetically. "It's a professional spoofing service. Untraceable."

Nathaniel stared at the screen. Untraceable. Professional.

He looked up at Victoria.

"You hired a pro," he accused, his voice low. "That's why we can't trace it."

Victoria laughed. It was a low, throaty sound that vanished into the rain. She wiped a drop of water from her chin.

"You give me too much credit, Nathaniel. I'm just a housewife, remember? I wouldn't know how to hire a Russian hacker."

Victoria lied smoothly. "And if I wanted to send a message, I wouldn't use a text. I'd send a lawyer."

Nathaniel closed his eyes for a second. The uncertainty was gnawing at him. But the lack of evidence wasn't proof of innocence. It just meant she was good at hiding it.

He opened his eyes. He walked toward her. He took off his suit jacket.

"You're wet," he said. He tried to drape the jacket over her shoulders.

Victoria took a step back. The jacket fell from his hands and landed in a puddle of oily water.

Nathaniel froze. He looked at the jacket, then at her.

"I will compensate you," he said, his voice stiff. It was the only way he knew how to fix things. "I'll increase the settlement. Another ten million."

"Keep your money, Nathaniel. I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" he asked, desperate.

Victoria shook her head. "I want you to leave me alone."

She pulled out her phone. A black sedan pulled up to the curb. It was an Uber Black she had summoned.

"Unlock your bank cards," Victoria said as she opened the car door. "I'm going to finish my shopping."

"I... okay," Nathaniel said. He felt like he was losing control of gravity.

"Just... come to the family estate tonight," he added, almost pleading. "Grandfather expects us for the monthly dinner. We need to tell him together. In person."

Victoria paused. She looked at him, calculating.

"Fine," she said. "But don't expect me to play nice."

She got into the car. The door slammed shut.

Nathaniel stood in the rain, looking at his ruined jacket in the mud. It was a five-thousand-dollar custom suit. Now it was garbage.

"Should we follow her, sir?" Colin asked.

Nathaniel watched the taillights of the sedan disappear into the traffic.

"No," he said quietly. "Let her go. We'll see her tonight."