The Haynes penthouse smelled of lilies and denial.

Camille walked in. Her mother and Mia were in the living room, looking at fabric swatches for Mia's engagement party.

"You're back," Victoria said without looking up. "Did you beg for money on the street corner? That card is cancelled, you know."

Camille walked past them to her old bedroom.

She pushed the door open.

It wasn't her room anymore. It was a walk-in closet for Mia. Racks of designer dresses filled the space.

In the corner, a single black garbage bag sat on the floor.

Camille walked over and opened it. Inside were a few old photos and a stuffed bear she had since she was five. That was it. Her entire life, reduced to trash. She carefully placed the contents into the new leather briefcase she had bought.

Rage, cold and sharp, filled her chest.

"Oh, good, you found your luggage," Mia said from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, smirking. "It suits you."

Camille picked up the briefcase. She turned around.

"Move," she said.

Mia stuck her foot out, trying to trip Camille.

Camille didn't trip. She stomped down hard, her heel pressing onto Mia's foot.

"Ow!" Mia shrieked, hopping on one leg. "You ruined my Manolos!"

Victoria came running. "What did you do? You animal!"

She raised her hand to slap Camille.

Camille caught her wrist in mid-air.

"I'm done being the punching bag," Camille said. Her other hand instinctively clenched into a fist, a gesture so subtle no one would notice, but to her it was a shield of steel.

She twisted Victoria's arm. She applied pressure to the shoulder joint.

Pop.

It was a wet, sickening sound.

Victoria screamed. It was a primal sound of pain. She dropped to her knees, clutching her dangling arm.

"My shoulder! You broke my shoulder!"

Mia grabbed a glass of red wine from the table and threw the contents at Camille.

Camille dodged. The wine splashed across the wall, staining the silk wallpaper like blood.

Camille took a step toward Mia. Mia backed up until she hit the wall, trembling.

Camille pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen.

Recording playing.

Victoria's voice filled the room. "You are a stain on this family... sign or starve..."

"If I send this to the tabloids," Camille said calmly, "Haynes stock drops ten points by morning."

"Get her!" Victoria wailed from the floor. "Maria! Call security!"

The maid, Maria, stood in the kitchen doorway, shaking. She didn't move.

Suddenly, a low rumble vibrated through the floor.

It was the sound of engines. Many of them.

The doorbell rang. Then a heavy, authoritative knock.

Maria ran to open it.

A wall of black suits stood in the hallway. Six bodyguards.

They parted.

Horatio Melton walked through. He filled the doorway. He looked at the scene-the screaming mother, the terrified sister, the wine on the wall.

His eyes landed on Camille. She was holding a leather briefcase, standing tall amidst the wreckage.

"Ready to go?" Horatio asked.

The silence in the room was instant and heavy.

Victoria stopped screaming. She stared up at Horatio, her face gray with pain and shock.

"Mr... Mr. Melton?" she stammered. "What are you doing here?"

Mia frantically tried to smooth her hair, a reflex that was pathetic given the circumstances.

Horatio didn't look at them. He walked straight to Camille.

He saw the wine splatter near her head. He saw the tension in her shoulders.

He reached out and adjusted the collar of her white suit. His fingers brushed her neck. It was a possessive gesture.

"I'm ready," Camille said. "But they didn't want to let me leave."

"She's crazy!" Mia yelled, pointing a shaking finger. "She attacked Mom! She's a criminal!"

Horatio turned slowly. He looked at Mia like she was a bug he wanted to crush.

"I'm here to collect my fiancée," Horatio said. His voice was low, dangerous.

"Fiancée?" Victoria whispered. "That's impossible. She's... she's nobody."

"Blake," Horatio said.

Blake stepped forward and handed Camille a thick leather-bound folder.

"Your engagement gift, Ms. Haynes," Blake said.

Camille opened it. Inside was not a bank statement, but a legally executed, irrevocable letter of credit for one hundred million dollars, secured by Melton assets.

Mia's jaw dropped. Her eyes bulged.

"And this," Blake said, holding up a letter to Victoria, "is a notice of termination. Melton Media is severing all supply chain contracts with Haynes Industries immediately."

Victoria looked like she was going to vomit. That contract was seventy percent of their revenue.

"You can't do that!" Victoria cried, trying to stand up but collapsing back down in pain. "Camille! Tell him! I'm your mother!"

Horatio stepped between them. He was a wall of muscle and expensive wool.

"She has no mother," Horatio said.

Camille stepped out from behind him. She looked down at the woman who had birthed her and then sold her out.

"Goodbye, Victoria," Camille said.

She lifted the briefcase.

Horatio gestured with his chin, and one of the bodyguards stepped forward, taking the briefcase from her hand respectfully.

Horatio put his other hand on the small of her back.

"Let's go," Horatio said.

They walked out. The bodyguards formed a phalanx around them.

As the elevator doors closed, Camille could still hear Victoria sobbing.

Camille leaned back against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Her legs felt weak.

"You okay?" Horatio asked. He wasn't looking at her; he was watching the floor numbers count down.

"I'm fine," Camille said. "Just enjoying the silence."

The elevator reached the lobby.

Through the glass doors, Camille could see the mob. Reporters. Cameras. Satellite trucks.

"You called them?" Horatio asked.

"I told you," Camille said, straightening her spine. "Brand management."

Horatio buttoned his jacket. "Then let's put on a show."

They walked out.

The noise was deafening. Flashes popped like strobe lights.

"Mr. Melton! Is it true?"

"Who is she?"

Horatio pulled Camille close to his side. He looked directly into the lens of the nearest camera.

"This is Camille Haynes," Horatio announced. His voice carried over the crowd. "My future wife."

Camille smiled. It was a dazzling, practiced smile.

"Ms. Haynes! You just got out of prison!" a reporter shouted.

"The past is the past," Horatio cut in smoothly. "We are focused on the future."

Camille pulled a folded paper from her pocket.

"I have a statement," she said. The crowd quieted. "As of today, I have signed a formal renunciation of any and all claims to the Haynes family trust. I am reclaiming my grandmother's name. I am Camille Vance. The Haynes family does not speak for me, and I do not speak for them."

It was the final nail in the coffin. She had publicly severed the tie.

Horatio guided her through the crush to the waiting SUV.

They climbed in. The door slammed shut, cutting off the noise.

Horatio's smile vanished instantly.

"That was effective," he said, his tone cool. "But don't ever ambush me with the press again."

"It worked," Camille said. "Check your stock price in the morning. Stability sells."

Horatio reached into the seat pocket and pulled out a file.

"Here is your new history," he said. "Yale Medical School dropout. Framed by a jealous ex-lover. Exonerated. My team wrote it. Memorize it."

Camille flipped through the pages. "Creative."

"About Dr. X," Horatio said, turning to look at her.

Camille stiffened.

"My security team traced the last known IP address of Dr. X," Horatio said. "It came from inside the federal penitentiary."

He leaned closer. "You aren't just the agent, are you?"

Camille's heart hammered against her ribs. She kept her face neutral.

"Prison is full of talented people," she said. "Maybe Dr. X was my cellmate."

Horatio studied her. He didn't believe her. But he didn't press it. Not yet.

"We're going to the manor," Horatio said. "We have work to do."

"One more thing," Camille said. "Gavin Lloyd."

"Your ex," Horatio said.

"My prey," Camille corrected.

Horatio looked out the window. "His company applied for a vendor certification with us last week."

Camille's hands curled into fists.

"Good," she said.