“Do not let him touch her,” Lena said into the phone.

“Lock her door.”

“Miss Hart, he has signed transfer papers.”

“My mother signed nothing.”

The line went quiet, then the woman whispered, “He says he represents Victor Romano.”

Victor held out his hand.

“Put me on speaker.”

Lena obeyed.

“This is Victor Romano.

No one moves Margaret Hart.”

The woman inhaled sharply.

“Mr.

Romano, the authorization carries your digital seal.”

“Then the seal is false.”

Leon stepped away from the table.

“You cannot prove that.”

Victor faced him.

“You arranged this.”

“I arranged nothing.

But if Lena apologizes for her accusation, perhaps the misunderstanding disappears.”

Lena shoved her phone into Victor’s hand and walked toward Leon.

“You planted the vial.

You forged the transfer.

You used my sick mother to frighten me.”

Leon lowered his voice.

“Withdraw your statement, and Rosebridge receives five years of payment tonight.”

“You think I can be bought?”

“I think everyone has a price.

Yours happens to wear a hospital bracelet.”

Lena’s eyes filled, but she stayed in front of him.

“And if I refuse?”

“Your mother loses her room.

You lose your job.

By morning, every newspaper calls you the maid who tried to kjll Victor Romano.”

“That is enough,” Clara said.

Leon turned.

“Stay out of this.”

“You stole that vial from my dressing table.”

“Can you prove it?”

Clara opened her jeweled purse and removed a matching silver perfume bottle.

The cap was missing.

“I can prove they belong together.”

Leon barely glanced at it.

“You gave me access to your apartment.”

“Because you promised to take me to Owen.”

“And did I?”

Clara’s fingers tightened around the bottle.

The hotel manager approached Victor with his tablet.

“Sir, there’s another problem.”

“What?”

“A transfer of fifty thousand dollars reached Lena Hart’s bank account at 9:17 tonight.”

Guests began whispering again.

Leon pointed at Lena.

“There is your payment.”

“I never received fifty thousand dollars.”

“Open your banking app.”

Lena did.

The balance on the screen made her stagger.

Victor read the transfer note aloud.

“‘Final payment upon completion.’”

“I swear I didn’t know.”

Leon faced the guests.

“She takes money, carries an empty vial, and strikes the intended victim.

How much more evidence do you need?”

Dmitri’s phone buzzed.

He read the message and looked at Victor.

“The police are outside.”

Leon’s smile returned.

“Good.

Let them handle her.”

The ballroom doors opened, and Detective Ross entered with four officers.

“Lena Hart?” he called.

“Step away from Mr.

Mercer.”

Lena looked at Victor.

“You said no one leaves.”

Victor moved in front of her.

“She stays until we examine the transfer.”

Detective Ross displayed a warrant.

“You can obstruct us, Mr.

Romano, but tonight’s witnesses may find that interesting.”

Leon folded his arms.

“Let the law work.”

The hotel manager suddenly touched the screen.

“Wait.

The transfer was initiated at 9:08.”

“So?” Ross asked.

Lena pointed toward the broken glass.

“I punched Victor at 9:04.”

The manager enlarged the record.

“And the sender used a private terminal in this hotel.”

Victor looked at Leon.

“Which terminal?”

“Executive office three,” the manager said.

“Leon Mercer’s office.”

Leon reached for the tablet, but Dmitri caught his wrist.

Then every light in the ballroom went out.

A woman screamed.

Glass broke near the service corridor.

When the emergency lights returned, Leon was gone—and so was Clara.