The main hall of the Burris estate was a cavern of dark wood and old money. It smelled of lemon polish and decay.

Hansford was there. He had just hung up the phone, his face flushed with victory. Around him stood three men in suits-his campaign consultants. They were laughing, discussing polling numbers.

When they saw Gina, the laughter died.

"Gina!" Hansford spread his arms wide, a performance of the doting husband. "Darling, you're back. You look... tired. Why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

He walked toward her, intent on steering her away from his team before she could say anything embarrassing.

Gina watched him come. She saw the man who had drugged her. The man who had sold her. The man who would eventually have her killed.

A scream built in her chest. She let it out.

"Don't touch me!"

The shriek echoed off the vaulted ceiling. It was shrill, hysterical, piercing.

The consultants jumped. Hansford froze, his smile faltering.

"Gina, honey..." He reached for her arm.

"Get away from me!" Gina scrambled back, tripping over her own feet, collapsing onto the Persian rug. She crab-walked backward, her eyes wide with terror. "You sent me there! You let him... you let him hurt me!"

She pointed a shaking finger at the bruise on her neck.

The consultants exchanged horrified glances. Domestic abuse? Pimping? The questions hung in the air.

"Gina, stop it," Hansford hissed, his face darkening. He lunged forward to grab her, to silence her. "You're having an episode."

As his hand came within reach, Gina reacted.

She didn't cower. She swung.

Crack.

Her palm connected with Hansford's cheek with the force of a whip. It was a perfect, solid connection. His head snapped to the side.

The sound was deafening in the sudden silence.

Hansford stumbled back, clutching his face. Shock replaced the anger in his eyes. Gina had never defied him. Not once.

Gina immediately burst into tears, curling into a ball on the floor. "Blood... there was so much blood... don't let him near me..."

She was babbling, mixing truth with fiction, painting a picture of a woman broken by trauma.

Vesper stepped in, smooth and authoritative. She placed her body between Gina and Hansford.

"Senator," Vesper said, her voice carrying a warning tone. "Mrs. Burris is in a state of severe shock. I strongly advise you to step back."

Hansford looked at Vesper, then at his consultants. He saw the doubt in their eyes. He couldn't hit her back. Not here. Not now.

"Get her out of here," Hansford snarled, trying to regain his dignity while nursing his stinging cheek. "Call Dr. Sayer."

"What is the meaning of this?"

The voice boomed from the top of the stairs.

Elberta Berger stood on the landing. She was seventy, draped in black velvet, leaning on a silver-tipped cane. She looked like a vulture perched on a gravestone.

"She's hysterical, Mother," Hansford said quickly. "Just... stress."

Elberta's eyes narrowed as she looked down at Gina. "A hysterical wife is a liability, Hansford. Control your house."

Gina looked up through her tears. She saw the contempt on Elberta's face.

"Don't hit me..." Gina whimpered, looking directly at Elberta. "Please don't hit me again."

The consultants shifted uncomfortably. Now the mother was involved in the abuse narrative?

Elberta gasped, offended. "I have never touched you, you ungrateful girl!"

"Vesper, take her upstairs," Hansford ordered, desperate to end the scene.

Vesper helped Gina to her feet. Gina leaned heavily on her, sobbing into her shoulder as they ascended the stairs.

They passed Elberta. Gina didn't look at her. But as they turned the corner into the upper hallway, out of sight of the lobby, Gina's sobbing stopped instantly.

She straightened her spine. She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"Did you see his face?" Gina whispered, her voice steady and cold. "His left cheek is swelling. He'll have to use concealer for the press conference tomorrow."

Vesper glanced at her, a flicker of admiration in her eyes. "That was a very professional slap, Mrs. Burris."

"It was just the opening statement," Gina said. She walked toward her bedroom door. "Now, we deal with the staff. Higgins has to go."

Gina had just changed into a pair of slacks and a cashmere sweater when the door to her bedroom flew open.

Mrs. Higgins marched in without knocking. She held a ring of brass keys in her hand.

"Mrs. Burris," Higgins announced, her nose in the air. "Old Mrs. Berger has instructed that, for your own safety given your... mental state... I am to hold the keys to your room. You are not to lock your door."

It was the beginning of the imprisonment. In her last life, Gina had handed them over, weeping.

Gina sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. She watched Higgins in the mirror.

"Get out," Gina said calmly.

Higgins scoffed. "This is the Burris house. You do as you are told."

Gina spun around on the stool. She picked up her phone and tapped the screen.

"Mrs. Higgins," Gina said. "You've been employed here for twenty years. Your salary is $150,000 a year."

Higgins frowned. "What of it?"

"I have your tax returns here," Gina lied smoothly, though she knew the facts from the future audit that had happened in her previous timeline. "And I have the invoices from the catering company you use. You've been inflating the costs by 30% and splitting the difference with your nephew, who owns the company. That's about $500,000 in embezzlement over five years."

Higgins' face drained of color. The keys jingled in her shaking hand. "That's... that's a lie! Mrs. Elberta trusts me!"

Gina stood up and walked toward her. "Also, the three cleaning staff you hired last month? They are undocumented. You're paying them below minimum wage and pocketing the rest. That is a federal felony, Higgins. Human trafficking, tax fraud..."

Gina stopped inches from the woman's face.

"If I call the IRS and ICE right now, do you think Hansford will protect you? Or will he throw you to the wolves to save his campaign?"

Higgins backed away, hitting the doorframe. Sweat beaded on her upper lip.

"Vesper," Gina called out.

Vesper stepped out of the walk-in closet, holding her phone. "911 is dialed, ma'am. Shall I press send?"

Higgins' knees gave way. She slumped against the wall. "No! Please, Mrs. Burris! Don't!"

The commotion had drawn attention. Two maids were peeking down the hallway, eyes wide.

"I can be generous," Gina said, her voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "Pack your bags. Leave the estate within the hour. Tell Elberta you have a family emergency and you are resigning effective immediately."

"But..."

"One more word," Gina hissed, "and you will spend your retirement in federal prison."

Higgins dropped the keys on the floor. She scrambled up and ran down the hall, sobbing.

Gina looked at the maids down the hall. They quickly lowered their heads.

"Vesper," Gina said, loud enough for them to hear. "Pick up the keys. You are in charge of the household staff now."

"Yes, ma'am." Vesper bent down and retrieved the keys. "Effective leverage. Legal threats are cleaner than violence."

"Violence has its place," Gina said, turning back to her room. "But fear is sustainable."

From downstairs, Elberta's voice shrieked up the stairwell. "Gina! Get down here this instant!"

Gina checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked perfect.

She opened the top drawer of her vanity and took out a small glass vial. It was a relic from her past, a concentrated caffeine extract tucked into the lining of her emergency medical kit-a gift from her doctor father she'd always carried. Harmless to most, but to an elderly woman with a known heart arrhythmia, it was chaos in a bottle.

She slipped the vial into her sleeve.

"Showtime," she whispered.

Gina descended the grand staircase with the grace of a queen approaching the guillotine.

In the main living room, Elberta sat on the brocade sofa. But she wasn't alone.

Sitting next to her, pouring tea, was a young woman with platinum blonde hair and a dress that was too tight for a Tuesday afternoon.

Delisa Park. Hansford's mistress.

Elberta slammed her teacup down. "You fired Higgins! Who gave you the right?"

Gina walked over and sat on the opposite sofa. She crossed her legs. "She was a criminal, Mother. I saved the family from a lawsuit."

Elberta sputtered. "Nonsense! Well, since we are short-staffed, Delisa here has graciously offered to stay in the main house and assist Hansford with his... late-night campaign work."

It was a slap in the face. A mistress living under the same roof.

Delisa smirked at Gina. "I hope I won't be in your way, Mrs. Burris. I know you need your rest."

Gina didn't get angry. She smiled. It was a bright, terrifying smile.

She reached out to Vesper, who handed her a blue folder.

"That's lovely, Delisa," Gina said. She opened the folder. "However, according to the Prenuptial Agreement between Hansford and myself, specifically Clause 14, Section B of the revised agreement-the one Hansford signed last year when he needed my family's trust to bail out his 'charity' foundation: 'The cohabitation of any non-familial female in the primary residence for more than three consecutive nights constitutes Malicious Emotional Infliction.'"

Elberta froze. She knew the original contract. But she had forgotten the addendum she'd dismissed as a desperate wife's foolishness.

"This clause," Gina continued, tapping the paper, "triggers the 'At-Fault Divorce' provision. If Delisa stays, I file for divorce tomorrow. And I take 50% of Hansford's voting shares in the Burris Group."

The room went dead silent.

Elberta loved money more than she hated Gina. Her eyes darted between the girl and the document.

"You wouldn't dare," Elberta whispered.

"Try me," Gina said. "Imagine the headlines. 'Senator Burris Loses Family Fortune to Mistress Scandal.'"

Elberta turned on Delisa with the speed of a viper. "Get out."

Delisa's jaw dropped. "What? But Hansford said..."

"I said get out!" Elberta shrieked. "Go to a hotel! You are not staying here!"

Delisa stood up, her face flushed with humiliation. She grabbed her purse and stomped toward the door. As she passed Gina, she hissed, "You think you've won?"

Gina leaned in, sniffing the air. "Your perfume is cheap, Delisa. Hansford hates vanilla. He'll get bored of you in a month."

Delisa gasped and fled the room.

Elberta was shaking with rage. "You are a snake, Gina. You think you can control this house?"

"I'm just looking out for the family assets, Mother," Gina said soothingly. She stood up and walked to the tea service. "Here, let me pour you a fresh cup. You look flushed."

Gina turned her back to Elberta. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she uncorked the vial in her sleeve and let three drops of the caffeine concentrate fall into Elberta's Earl Grey.

She turned back, her face a mask of dutiful concern.

"Drink this," Gina said, handing over the porcelain cup. "It will settle your nerves."

Elberta snatched the cup, glaring at her. She took a long, angry sip.

Gina watched the liquid disappear. Checkmate.