My ex-husband looked at my twice-repaired shoes and told me I had thrown away my future while his pregnant wife, my own cousin, stood nearby. Before the night ended, he would watch me take the hand of a stranger who had a plan neither of us could have imagined. But the strangest part was that this man already knew things about my daughter that I had never told him.

The dinner had ended in disaster for Tyler, but Vanessa wasn't a woman who surrendered easily. Jealousy had poisoned her veins since childhood, ever since my father had refused to lend her father money for his failing real-estate ventures.

Two days later, the Fierro Foundation held its annual winter charity gala at the Metropolitan Museum. The elite of Manhattan arrived under flashing cameras. Giovanni had insisted that Lily attend the early reception, looking like an angel in a custom ivory dress with spun-gold ribbons.

Tyler arrived alone; Richard had placed him on immediate administrative suspension, but Vanessa was beside him, her jaw tight and her eyes venomous.

While Giovanni was engaged in conversation with the French ambassador, I took Lily to the marble powder room to wash her hands.

"Mommy, this place looks like a castle," Lily whispered, her eyes wide as she touched the gilded mirrors.

"It is a castle, baby. But we’re only visiting the ballroom."

As we exited the powder room, Vanessa stood waiting in the corridor, her arms crossed over her bulging stomach. She blocked our path to the grand stairs.

"You think you won, don't you, Jessica?" Vanessa hissed, keeping her voice low. "You found a billionaire with an ego big enough to adopt your little mistake. But he doesn't love you. You’re a placeholder until Beatrice’s lawsuit is dismissed. Then he’ll throw you back into the gutter where you belong."

"Leave us alone, Vanessa," I said, shielding Lily behind my skirt. "Don't bring your poison around my child."

"Your child?" Vanessa scoffed. "She’s Tyler’s blood. And mark my words, before this night is over, everyone will see what kind of thieving trailer trash Giovanni married."

She brushed past us, intentionally bumping her shoulder against mine.

Ten minutes later, the main hall erupted in chaos.

Beatrice Fierro stood on the grand staircase, screaming for security. "My sapphire brooch! It was my mother’s! It was taken from my evening clutch while I was in the powder room!"

Security guards immediately sealed the ballroom exits.

Vanessa stepped forward into the circle of murmuring socialites, pointing an accusatory finger directly at me. "I saw her! Jessica Hale went into the private lounge right after Aunt Beatrice! And we all know her financial history—she’s desperate for cash!"

The room shifted. Whispers broke out among the hedge fund managers and socialites.

Tyler stepped up beside Vanessa, emboldened by the crowd. "It makes sense, Mr. Fierro. Jessica has thousands in outstanding medical school loans. She couldn't resist."

Giovanni stepped out from the crowd of ambassadors. His face was a mask of thunder. He walked toward me, his heavy steps reverberating across the marble floor.

"Step aside, Brooks," Giovanni commanded.

"Giovanni, search her purse!" Beatrice demanded from the staircase. "If she has nothing to hide, let security open that cheap clutch!"

I looked at Giovanni. For a split second, a knot of old fear tightened in my throat—the fear that no one would ever believe me over them.

"Give me the purse, Jessica," Giovanni said softly.

My heart sank. Was he turning on me?

I handed him my small velvet clutch. Giovanni didn't open it. Instead, he handed it to the head of museum security. "Scan it for RFID tags."

Vanessa blinked. "What?"

"The museum’s private exhibition rooms use microscopic magnetic trackers on all VIP wristbands to prevent artifact theft," Giovanni said coldly, his amber eyes locking onto Vanessa like a predator zeroing in on prey. "If the brooch was stolen, the tracker in Beatrice’s clutch would log the proximity of whoever handled it."

The security director produced a handheld scanner, running it over my bag.

Nothing. Green light.

The director then walked down the line, stopping directly in front of Vanessa. The scanner let out an ear-piercing electronic shriek.

Vanessa gasped, stepping backward, but two female guards immediately took her by the wrists.

"Search her coat," Giovanni commanded.

From the inner silk lining of Vanessa’s fur cape, the guard pulled out the glittering sapphire brooch.

The ballroom exploded into murmurs of shock and disgust.

"She planted it!" Vanessa shrieked, thrashing against the guards. "Tyler, tell them! She framed me!"

Tyler took two steps away from his pregnant wife, his face pale with utter cowardice. "I... I had nothing to do with this, Mr. Fierro. Nothing at all."

"Disgusting," Beatrice spat, looking at Vanessa with revulsion. "Get this common thief out of my sight. And take her useless husband with her."

As the security guards dragged a screaming Vanessa toward the service elevators, Giovanni walked back to me. He took my hand, lifting it to his lips in front of the entire assembly.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Fierro?" he asked softly.

"I am," I breathed, looking up at him. "How did you know?"