The next morning, the hospital called.

They needed a payment. Five thousand dollars. Today. Or they would move Keira's mother to a state facility.

Keira paced the small living room, chewing on her fingernail. The anonymous donation Dock had mentioned must not have cleared yet. Bureaucracy was a beast.

She had to go to her father. She had to beg.

Dock came out of the bedroom. He saw her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Money," Keira said. "I have to go to the Manor. I have to ask Edmon for the money he promised."

Dock's jaw tightened.

He went back into the bedroom. Keira heard him rummaging under the bed.

He came out holding a small, velvet box. It was faded, the blue fabric worn bald in spots.

He shoved it into her hand.

"Take this."

Keira opened it.

Inside was a heavy gold bangle and a ring with a large green stone.

The gold was dark with the tarnish of a century. The stone was dark, coated in a dull, waxy film, as if to deliberately hide its fire.

It looked old. And... well, cheap. Like costume jewelry from a thrift store.

"Dock," Keira said. "I can't take this."

"It was my grandmother's," he said. "If he won't give you the money, pawn it."

"No!" Keira snapped the box shut. "This is a family heirloom. I'm not selling your grandmother's jewelry for a few hundred bucks."

"It might be worth more than you think," he said dryly.

Keira looked at him. He was trying to help. He was giving her the only thing of value he owned.

Her heart swelled.

"I'll keep it safe," she promised. "But I'm not selling it. I'll get the money from Edmon."

"I'm not going with you," he said. "They won't let me in the gate."

"I know."

"Be careful."

Keira left the apartment, clutching the velvet box in her purse like it was the Crown Jewels.

Jonah watched her leave.

He waited thirty seconds.

Then he grabbed his keys and a black baseball cap.

He went down the back stairs to the garage where he kept the "beater."

It was a gray Ford sedan. Dented. Rusted.

But under the hood, it had a modified engine that could outrun a police interceptor. And the glass was bulletproof.

He followed the bus she took to the train station.

He watched her get on the Long Island Rail Road train, then pulled out onto the expressway that ran parallel to the tracks, keeping the train in sight.

He sat in the driver's seat, pulling his cap low.

Halfway to Long Island, he saw the train slow for a local stop. Through his binoculars, he spotted a guy in a hoodie eyeing Keira's purse.

Jonah saw the guy shift. He saw the glint of something in the guy's sleeve.

Jonah's hands tightened on the wheel. He couldn't do anything from here. He could only watch, his gut twisting into a knot of helpless rage.

The train doors opened. The guy in the hoodie seemed to think better of it, or maybe his stop was next. He got off the train and vanished into the crowd on the platform.

Jonah let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Keira didn't even notice. She was staring out the window, clutching her purse tight.

Protecting his grandmother's ring.

The ring was a Romanov emerald. It was worth three million dollars.

And she was protecting it because she thought it was all he had. She was a girl who had nothing, yet she was fiercely guarding a criminal's fake heirloom over her own survival.

Jonah pressed his foot on the gas**, a tight, unfamiliar ache blooming in his chest**.

"You're killing me, Keira."

Keira met Lana at a coffee shop near the train station in Great Neck.

Lana Sterling was Keira's only friend. She drove a red convertible and had zero filter.

She hugged Keira so hard her ribs cracked.

"Let me look at you," Lana said, holding Keira at arm's length. "You look... tired. Did he hit you?"

"No," Keira said. "He's... he's actually okay."

Lana rolled her eyes. "Okay? He's a felon, Keira. He's a beast."

"He gave me this," Keira said, pulling out the box. "To help with mom."

Lana opened the box. She picked up the bangle.

"Ew," she said. "This is brass. Look how tarnished it is. And this glass? It's not even cut right."

She tossed it back in the box.

"He's trying to manipulate you with garbage."

"Don't call it garbage," Keira said sharply. She snatched the box back. "It was his grandmother's. It means something to him."

Lana stared at Keira. "Oh my God. You like him."

"I don't like him. He's... he's loyal. Which is more than I can say for my family."

Across the street, in the gray Ford, Jonah adjusted the volume on his receiver.

He had slipped a bug into her purse when he gave her the box.

He heard every word.

He's loyal.

He leaned back in the seat, a strange feeling spreading through his chest. No one in his entire life of billions and boardrooms had ever called him loyal. They called him ruthless. They called him a monster. But this girl, defending him to her only friend, saw something in him that didn't even exist. And God help him, he wanted to become the man she thought he was.

Lana sighed. "Fine. But take this."

She handed Keira a small pink canister.

"Pepper spray. If he tries anything, blind him."

"Thanks, Lana."

"Now go get your money. Give Edmon hell."

Keira walked up the long driveway to Jacobson Manor.

The house was massive. A sprawling colonial mansion with white pillars and manicured lawns.

It used to be her home. Now it felt like a fortress.

She rang the bell.

The butler, Higgins, opened the door. He looked down his nose at her.

"Miss Keira. The Master is busy."

"I don't care," Keira said, pushing past him. "I have an appointment."

She stormed into the foyer.

Janie was in the living room, lounging on a silk sofa, filing her nails.

She looked up.

"Well, well," she drawled. "The beggar returns."

"Where is Dad?" Keira demanded.

"Daddy's busy," Janie smiled. It was a shark's smile. "But I can handle you."

Outside, Jonah watched the security feed on his phone. He had hacked the Jacobson security system three days ago.

He saw Keira standing in the middle of the room, small but defiant.

He saw Janie's cruel smile.

His hand gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked.

Don't make me come in there, Janie.

"Dad!" Keira screamed. "I know you're in there!"

The study door opened. Edmon Jacobson stepped out. He looked annoyed.

"Stop screeching, Keira. You sound like a fishwife."

"I need the money," Keira said, holding out the hospital bill. "They're going to move Mom today if I don't pay. You promised."

Edmon sighed. He looked at Geraldine, who had just walked in with a martini.

"Bad timing, dear," Geraldine said. "Cash flow is a bit tight this month."

"Tight?" Keira pointed at Janie's new diamond earrings. "You have money for that!"

"That's essential maintenance," Janie said.

"It's Mom's trust fund!" Keira yelled. "The Medical Trust! You can't touch it!"

Janie stood up. She walked over to Keira.

"Oh, honey," she said. "There is no trust fund."

Keira froze. "What?"

"I convinced Dad, as the primary trustee, to liquidate it," Janie said casually. "To invest in the new waterfront project. It's gone."

"You... you stole it?"

"I invested it. For the family. Mom would have wanted us to be successful."

"She's not dead!" Keira screamed. "She's in a coma!"

Keira lunged at her.

Janie caught Keira's wrist. She was stronger than she looked. She shoved Keira back.

Keira stumbled and hit her hip against the heavy oak table. Pain shot down her leg.

"Look at you," Janie sneered. "Living in the gutter with that rat has made you feral."

"Don't call him a rat," Keira hissed.

"He is a rat. A dirty, violent, poor rat. Does he make you beg for it? Does he beat you?"

"He is a better man than any of you!" Keira shouted. "He has honor! You're just thieves!"

Edmon's face went purple. "How dare you speak to us like that!"

"If you don't give me the money, I'll sue you," Keira said. "I'll go to the DA. Embezzlement is a crime."

The room went silent.

Janie's eyes narrowed.

She picked up a glass of ice water from the table.

She threw it in Keira's face.

The cold shock made Keira gasp. Water dripped down her nose, her chin, soaking her t-shirt.

"Get out," Janie screamed. "Get out of my house! You get nothing! Let your mother rot!"

"Higgins!" Edmon barked. "Remove her!"

Two security guards appeared. They grabbed Keira's arms.

They dragged her to the door.

She didn't fight. She was too numb.

They threw her out onto the gravel driveway. She fell on her hands and knees. The stones cut into her palms.

The heavy door slammed shut.

She knelt there, wet, bleeding, and broke.

She had failed.

A car engine roared.

The gray Ford screeched to a halt right in front of her.

The passenger door flew open.

"Get in," a voice growled.

Keira looked up.

Dock.