Chapter 2 - THE SILVER COMPACT
The dining room went dead silent. Nico stared at his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry in three weeks.
Sloane didn’t flinch. She slowly reached for her wine glass, her manicured fingers perfectly steady.
"She's lying," Sloane said, her voice smooth and unbothered. "She’s an insecure teenager looking for an excuse. Why would I take a picture of her?"
"Because you hate me," Ella whispered, shrinking into Nico’s side.
Nico looked at Sloane. The warmth that usually filled his eyes when he looked at her was completely gone, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness.
"Give me your phone, Sloane," Nico said quietly.
Sloane’s grip on her wine glass tightened. "Nico, you can't be serious. You're taking the word of a child and a maid over mine?"
"The phone."
She let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. "No. I won't be humiliated at my own engagement dinner."
She stood up, grabbing her evening clutch from the table. As she yanked it toward her, the clasp caught on the heavy silver silverware. The clutch spilled open, scattering lipstick, a credit card, and a heavy silver compact across the mahogany table.
I recognized the compact instantly.
Ella gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "That’s my mom’s."
Nico reached out and picked up the silver compact. His thumb traced the engraved initials on the lid: C.F.
"My late wife’s compact went missing from a locked safe three months ago," Nico said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. He looked up at Sloane. "Before you even moved into this house."
Sloane’s pale skin turned completely ashen. She took a step back from the table.
"Answer one question," Nico said. "How did you get the combination to Clara’s safe?"
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Sloane looked past Nico, her eyes locking onto someone standing in the shadows of the hallway.
"I didn't need the combination," Sloane said, a cruel smile returning to her lips. "I just needed a spare key. And your head of security was more than happy to give it to me."
