Kara was still on her knees on the wet pavement, her hands deep in the thorny bushes, when the patio door opened again.

She expected Davin. Instead, she saw red-soled heels.

Alyse stood under a large umbrella, perfectly dry, perfectly groomed. She was holding the silver locket in her hand. She must have seen where it landed from the upstairs window.

"Looking for this?" Alyse asked.

Kara scrambled to her feet. She wiped the rain from her eyes. "Give it to me."

Alyse dangled the necklace. "Tsk, tsk. Look at you. The heiress of the Higgins fortune, digging in the mud like a rat."

She walked over to the ornamental koi pond that lined the garden path. She held the necklace over the water.

"Oops."

She let go. The silver locket splashed into the murky water and sank.

Kara lunged for the pond. Alyse stepped in her path, grabbing Kara's wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

Alyse leaned in close. She pulled the collar of her blouse down slightly to reveal a purple mark on her neck.

"See this?" Alyse whispered. "Davin gave it to me last night. While you were crying in the hospital."

It was a lie. Kara knew it was a lie-Davin had been at the office-but the image still made her stomach turn.

"You're disgusting," Kara said."Scavenging is your hobby, I don't care."

Alyse laughed. "And you are stupid. Do you know why that stage light fell on you six months ago? The one that broke your ribs?"

Kara went still.

"I paid the technician to loosen the bolt," Alyse hissed. "And all I had to do was cry a little, and Davin believed you rigged it yourself for attention."

Rage, hot and blinding, exploded in Kara's chest. She raised her hand to slap Alyse.

Alyse caught her wrist easily. "You're too weak, Kara. Look at you. You're dying, aren't you?"

Alyse shoved her. Hard.

Kara stumbled back. Her hip slammed into the sharp stone corner of the planter. Pain shot through her body, radiating from her surgery site. She collapsed onto the wet stones, gasping for air.

"Davin!" Alyse screamed.

Davin appeared at the door instantly.

Alyse threw herself onto the ground, sobbing. "She pushed me! She tried to drown me in the pond!"

Davin ran to Alyse. He helped her up, checking her for injuries. He turned his furious gaze on Kara, who was curled in a fetal position, clutching her side.

"You are sick," Davin shouted. "You need to be locked up."

Kara couldn't speak. The pain was too intense. She pointed a shaking finger at the pond.

Davin didn't look. He scooped Alyse up in his arms.

"Charles!" he yelled. "Get the car. We're taking Alyse to the clinic."

He looked at the head of security. "Put my wife in the basement. She can think about what she did in the dark. No food until I get back."

They dragged Kara away. She watched Davin carry Alyse into the house, shielding her from the rain, while Kara was left to bleed.

The heavy door of the basement slammed shut. The lock clicked. Total darkness.

Kara lay on the cold concrete floor. She reached into her pocket. She had managed to palm the tiny backup phone she kept hidden in her shoe.

She pressed and held the side button, activating a voice command protocol she'd designed herself.

"Chloe," she whispered into the dark. "Initiate Plan B. We're auctioning the dress."

The basement smelled of mold and old cardboard. Kara sat in the corner, using the dim light of the tiny phone screen to navigate.

She called Chloe, her agent.

"You can't sell it," Chloe shrieked on the other end. "The 'Ethereal' gown? That was your masterpiece! You made that for your wedding!"

"Dead women don't need wedding dresses," Kara said. Her voice was flat. "I need cash, Chloe. Fast. Davin's network is a fortress. Any attempt to access my usual resources will trigger alarms. This is the only way."

She hung up as another call came through. It was the nursing home director.

"Mrs. Johnston," the director said. His tone was grave. "Arthur has had a second stroke."

Kara felt the floor drop out from under her. "Save him! Do whatever it takes!"

"We can't," the director said. "The Trust sent a cease and desist on payments. We are already in the red. If we don't have a hundred thousand dollars by noon tomorrow, we have to transfer him to the state facility."

The state facility was a warehouse for the dying. If Arthur went there, he wouldn't last a week.

"Please," Kara begged. "Just give me twenty-four hours."

"I'm sorry."

The line went dead.

Kara screamed. She threw the phone against a stack of boxes. She banged her head against the wall. The physical pain was grounding. It distracted her from the panic.

She had to get out.

The door handle turned. Kara froze.

Charles slipped inside. He was holding a bottle of water and a roll. He looked terrified.

"Charles," Kara gasped. She crawled over to him and grabbed the hem of his trousers. "Lend me the money. Please. I'll pay you back double."

Charles shook his head. "Madam, I don't have that kind of money."

"Then let me go," Kara said. Her eyes were wild, feverish. "I need to see Davin."

"He's at the tower," Charles said. He hesitated. He looked at her pale, desperate face.

"I'll leave the door unlocked," he whispered. "But if anyone asks, I forgot."

"Thank you," Kara sobbed.

She waited until Charles left, then slipped out. She ran through the rain, out the service gate, and flagged down a taxi on the main road.

She had no cash. She pulled off her diamond stud earrings-the only jewelry Davin hadn't bought her-and tossed them to the driver.

"Johnston Global Tower," she commanded.

The lobby of the tower was a cathedral of glass and steel. Kara walked in, dripping wet, her clothes muddy, her hair plastered to her skull. She was shivering violently. The fever was spiking.

She approached the reception desk.

"I need to see Davin Johnston," she said. Her teeth chattered.

The receptionist looked her up and down with disdain. "Do you have an appointment?"

"I'm his wife!" Kara shouted.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am, I know who you are. My instructions are clear. Mr. Johnston is not available to you." She reached for the phone. "Security."

Two large guards grabbed Kara's arms.

"Let me go! Davin!"

The elevator doors pinged open. Davin walked out, surrounded by a phalanx of suits. He looked immaculate.

He stopped when he saw the commotion. He saw the wet, screaming woman struggling with his guards.

"Davin!" Kara cried out. "Grandpa is dying! Please!"

Davin looked at her. There was no recognition in his eyes. Only cold annoyance.

"Get that trash out of my building," he said to the guards.

He turned and walked out the revolving doors, leaving Kara to be dragged backward across the marble floor.

Kara woke up on a bench in a bus shelter. The rain had stopped, but the damp cold had settled into her marrow. It was evening.

She had one option left.

She used the last of her strength to hail a cab, promising payment upon arrival. She directed him to the Meatpacking District.

The loft was hidden behind a rusted steel door. This was her sanctuary. The studio of S. Anders. A clean room, a fortress with its own servers, a place Davin knew nothing about.

She punched in the code. The door hissed open.

Kara stepped inside and gasped.

The studio was destroyed.

Rolls of French lace were unspooled and slashed. Mannequins were toppled, their limbs scattered like corpses. Cans of black paint had been thrown over her sketches pinned to the wall.

Kara clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. Someone had been there.

She ran to the floor safe in the corner. It had been drilled open. Empty. The emergency cash, the original pattern files-gone.

Behind her, a floorboard creaked.

Kara spun around.

Three men stepped out of the shadows. They wore ski masks and dark clothes. One of them was holding a baseball bat.

"Well, look who it is," the leader said. His voice was muffled. "Mrs. Johnston. You look worse than the pictures."

Kara backed up until her hips hit a cutting table. Her hand closed around a pair of heavy fabric shears.

"Who sent you?" she demanded. "Alyse?"

The man laughed. "Someone who wants to make sure you don't cause any more trouble. Someone paid a lot for your right hand."

He swung the bat. It smashed into the table, missing Kara's fingers by an inch.

Kara turned and ran. She bolted for the glass-walled office at the back of the loft. She slammed the door and locked it.

The men began to kick the glass. Spiderwebs of cracks appeared.

Kara slid under the desk. She pulled out her phone. The screen was cracked, but it worked.

She instinctively wanted to call Julian, but thought that Julian was only human and had no power, so he couldn't solve this kind of thug.

She dialed Davin. It was pathetic. It was weak. But he was the only power strong enough to stop this.

Davin picked up on the second ring.

"What now?" he snapped.

"Davin, help me..." Kara sobbed. "The studio... they're going to kill me..."

The glass door shattered.

Kara screamed.

Davin heard the crash. He heard the heavy boots crunching on glass.

"Grab her!" a male voice shouted.

"No! Please!" Kara begged.

There was a sickening thud. A sound of metal hitting flesh. Kara let out a choked cry.

The phone clattered to the floor. Then, a heavy boot stomped on it. The line went dead.

In the back of his Maybach, Davin stared at his phone. His blood ran cold. That wasn't acting. That was the sound of real fear.

Davin shouted at the driver,"Locate her phone! Mobilize all security teams! Hurry up!"