Chapter 3

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Julian and Bianca rushed in right behind me. "How did you know the password!" Julian demanded as he grabbed my shoulder, his face twisted with rage. "Did you spy on the previous owner? Or are you screwing one of the cleaners here?" He absolutely refused to believe I was the owner. With that peanut brain of his, those were the only disgusting explanations he could come up with. I shrugged his hand off without saying a word. Because the sight before me had stunned me speechless. My living room, once decorated in a clean, minimalist style, had been completely ruined. The priceless white marble coffee table was marred with several cigarette burns. The original paintings that had once hung on the walls had been taken down and tossed into a corner to collect dust. In their place were garish spray-painted posters in vulgar colors, each mounted in gaudy gold plastic frames. And the most outrageous part was that a massive poker table sat right in the center of the living room. Several sleazy-looking men sat around it, smoking and playing cards. Their cigarette ashes scattered all over my Porison rug like black soot. "What the fuck. Who the hell did this?" I couldn't stop myself from swearing. Julian thought I'd been stunned by his so-called luxurious setup and immediately grew smug again. "What, shocked?" he sneered. He pointed at the men at the table. "These men are all big-name bosses in Solterra. They're all here today to discuss billion-dollar projects with me. Letting you in was a favor, to show you what real elite society looks like." He pointed at the men at the table. "These men are all major players in Solterra. They're here today to discuss billion-dollar projects with me. I let you in as a favor, to show you what real elite society looks like." As he spoke, he strutted over to the wall and pointed at a spray painting of an oversized gold bar. "See this? This is art. What do you call it again? Ah, yes, Van Goff style." He looked proud of himself as he continued, "I paid three million dollars to have a master create this. It symbolizes never-ending wealth. Not like those boring paintings that used to hang here. Just looking at them was bad luck." My temples throbbed violently. What had once hung there was "The First Breakfast" by the great artist Leonardo Russo. Now it lay beside the trash can, with half a cup of soda poured over it. "Mr. Gray. Julian Gray, was it?" I took a deep breath and pointed at the painting. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You threw away artworks worth hundreds of millions of dollars and replaced them with roadside prints that cost less than ten dollars apiece." Julian looked at me with contempt. "Hundreds of millions? At least make your lies sound convincing." Bianca chimed in with a sneer, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Honey, don't bother with her. Someone like her probably hasn't even been to an art gallery. What would she know about art? She's just jealous we have money and wants to extort us." At that moment, the men at the table stopped playing. One bald man with a beer belly exhaled a ring of smoke as he leered at me. "Julian, this chick might dress kind of cheap, but she's got a real nice figure. Is she an old lover of yours?" Julian's attitude shifted instantly. "Mr. Graham, don't be ridiculous. She's just a crazy bitch I can't shake off." He picked up the wine bottle beside him. "I've got that bottle of '82 Lafite I mentioned right here. If you like it, why not let her pour you a glass as an apology?" Mr. Graham chuckled and reached for me. "Come on, sweetheart. Have a drink with me." "Get lost." I snatched the wine bottle from Julian's hand and smashed it hard against the edge of the table. The bottom shattered on impact. Red wine splashed across the floor and all over Mr. Graham. "I'll give you three minutes," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Take off my necklace, clean this place up, and get the hell out of my house."