Chapter 3

Then Lucy was quiet for three days. But I knew she wasn't done causing trouble yet.

Sure enough, she showed up at the Sinclair family's quarterly banquet.

Midway through the banquet, Lucy suddenly shrieked.

"My necklace is gone!" she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "It was a birthday gift from my adoptive mom."

The whole hall went dead silent.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

Lucy was sniffling, choking back tears. "It was here just now."

She scanned the venue, her gaze finally settling on me.

"Miss Sinclair," she asked waveringly, "you just went to the restroom, didn't you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I did."

"Well." Lucy hesitated, then blurted out, "Can I check your bag?"

The whole hall erupted in an uproar.

Amelia frowned, her tone sharp. "Miss, what are you getting at?"

Lucy teared up right away, putting on her best pitiful act. "Mom, I just want to look for my necklace."

I grinned.

"Sure," I said, handing her my bag. "Knock yourself out."

Lucy took my bag and faked searching through it, acting like she was really looking for something.

Then, pretending it was an accident, she turned the bag upside down.

Lipstick, keys, and my phone

scattered across the floor.

And a diamond necklace fell out as well.

"I found it!" Lucy exclaimed, her voice dripping with fake surprise. "This is it!"

She snatched up the necklace, her eyes brimming with crocodile tears as she stared at me. "Miss Sinclair, why would you do this to me?"

I cut her off, "Miss Lane, do you know why the Sinclair family banquet hall has 128 cameras?"

Lucy froze. "What?"

I picked up my phone and opened up the surveillance feed.

The footage was crystal clear on the screen.

Lucy crept up behind me and slyly stuffed the necklace into my bag.

"In the past three years." I scrolled through the database. "47 'heiresses' have pulled this exact stunt."

A staff member added, "That's the 48th time. Seriously, can't you think of something new?"

I took the necklace. "Actually, I bought this last week, and the receipt's right there."

I looked at Lucy. "Where's yours?"

Lucy's expression curdled. "Is this really how you treat your own daughter?"

Zoe snorted, "The last person who said that is sitting in jail now."

Lucy made a hasty exit, scrambling out in a panic.

The next day, the internet went wild.

[The Sinclair heiress was spotted in a late night rendezvous with a rival.]

The post even had a photo of me helping some guy into a car.

From the sneaky angle, it totally looked like we were kissing.

I checked who posted it.

It was some well-known paparazzo.

I clicked into the comments.

[Not this again. How many wannabes have popped up this year?]

[The last person who tried to spread rumors got slapped with a 1.5 million dollar fine.]

[Hey, you better delete that post. Sinclair's lawyers are faster than Amazon Prime.]

I posted on Twitter: [Thanks, Miss Lane, for helping me promote my new energy project, and for breaking the record for fastest lawsuit.]

I even attached a photo of the legal complaint.

Lucy totally freaked out and then deleted her post.

The next day, Lucy somehow scored a company pass and slipped inside the Sinclair Group.

She showed up at my office with a cup of coffee in hand.

She mumbled, avoiding eye contact, "Miss Sinclair, I'm really sorry about yesterday."

I didn't take the coffee. "Leave it on the desk."

She put the coffee down and just stood there, not moving.

"Anything else?" I asked.

She bit her lip, looking a little pitiful. "Can you forgive me?"

I smiled, keeping my tone cool, "You can go now."

She reluctantly started to leave, clearly not ready to give up.

I picked up the coffee, took a whiff, and pressed the button on my desk.

"Miss Lane, you're suspected of poisoning," I said. "Please cooperate with the investigation."

Lucy exploded. "You're framing me!"

I pointed at the coffee cup. "Do you know every cup in the Sinclair family and Sinclair Group is custom-made?"

She froze.

"There's a detector built into the bottom," I said, pulling up the App on my phone. "It can pick up any common meds."

On the screen, a notification popped up: [Detected: Laxative. 23rd case this year.]

Lucy's face turned pale. "You're lying!"

The security guards rushed in.

"On what grounds are you arresting me?" Lucy screamed.

I pulled out a thick stack of files.

"On this," I replied. "In the past five years, eighty-nine people have tried to slip something into my drinks. Every single one of them got locked up."

As the security guards dragged her out, Lucy was still yelling, "Claire Sinclair! Just you wait! I'll be back!"