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Chapter 4

Penulis: Eternity
Three days after Vincent returned my passport, Camille came to the estate.

Vincent had said nothing more about the security footage. His doctor still arrived every morning, and a guard remained outside my door.

My phone vibrated as I reached Camille’s car.

Three days until your departure. Your flight is confirmed. The divorce papers will be delivered after you leave New York.

I deleted the notification.

Camille glanced at me. “Was that your attorney?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She placed a heavy cream auction catalog, embossed in gold, across my lap. “Then we’re getting you something to take with you.”

The catalog was already open to Lot 47.

A double strand of luminous pearls rested against black velvet. At the center hung an oval sapphire bordered by old-mine diamonds, its reverse engraved with a familiar message.

[To my Sophia, wherever life takes you.]

My breath caught.

The necklace had belonged to my mother. She wore it in nearly every photograph I had of her. After she died in a car accident, it disappeared while her belongings were being settled.

I had spent years searching for it.

Now it was being auctioned less than three miles from the Moreau estate.

“I called ahead,” Camille said. “They verified the engraving.”

I touched the photograph.

No matter what it cost, I was taking it with me when I left New York.

The auction was being held in a private salon paneled in dark walnut and lit by gilded sconces. New York’s most powerful families filled the cream velvet chairs while champagne moved through the room on silver trays.

Vincent sat across the aisle in black, his gold signet ring resting against the edge of his bidding paddle.

Isabella sat beside him in champagne-colored silk. The Moreau sapphire burned at her throat as she rested one hand on his arm and whispered into his ear.

Vincent looked up and immediately stood.

“You should have told me you were coming.”

“Why?”

“I would have brought you.”

Isabella tightened her hand around his arm.

“I already had someone to bring me.”

Vincent glanced at Camille, then returned to his seat without another word.

I sat beside her and took my bidding paddle.

When Lot 47 appeared, the auctioneer lifted the necklace.

“Lot forty-seven. A vintage pearl and sapphire necklace from a private New York collection. Bidding begins at five hundred thousand dollars.”

I raised my paddle.

“Five hundred thousand.”

“One million.”

Isabella’s voice came from across the aisle.

She smiled as she held up her paddle.

“One point five million,” I said.

“Two million.”

The price climbed rapidly.

Six million.

Eight million.

Every time Isabella raised her paddle, I answered without looking at her.

By fifteen million, whispers had spread across the room.

My attorney had already separated my personal assets from the Moreau accounts. I could access eighteen million without exposing my departure.

“Eighteen million.”

“Twenty million,” Isabella replied.

The auctioneer looked at me.

“Twenty million from paddle eighty-one. Do we have twenty-one?”

I could not raise my paddle again.

Camille leaned closer.

“Sophia, stop. You’ll need that money after you leave.”

She was right.

But the necklace was the last piece of my mother I could take with me.

I turned toward Vincent.

“Lend me the rest.”

His eyes met mine.

“Please. It was my mother’s necklace.”

Vincent knew how long I had searched for it. His hand moved toward his bidding paddle.

Isabella caught his sleeve.

“Vincent.”

Her voice was soft, but everyone around us could hear it.

“I’ve never wanted anything this badly. Sophia already has so many beautiful things.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“If you take this from me too, what do I have left?”

Vincent looked from her to me.

I knew his answer before he spoke.

“Let her have it,” Vincent said. “I’ll recover the necklace afterward.”

“You have the chance to protect it now.”

“Stand down, Sophia.”

The quiet command was familiar. He expected me to obey while he repaired the damage on his own terms.

The auctioneer raised the gavel.

“Twenty million, going once.”

I looked at Vincent.

“Going twice.”

Isabella leaned against his shoulder.

“Sold.”

The gavel struck.

Isabella clapped before turning toward me.

“Thank you, Sophia.”

The triumph in her eyes was unmistakable.

After the auction, Isabella complained of a headache.

Vincent immediately stood.

“I’ll get your medication.”

A member of staff offered to go instead, but Vincent was already walking away.

I waited in a private lounge lined with burgundy silk while the auction staff completed the paperwork. A bottle of Bordeaux and two crystal glasses stood on the white-linen table beside me.

Nearly an hour later, Isabella entered carrying the sapphire-blue necklace box.

I stood.

“Name your price.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You think you can buy it back from me?”

“The Ferrari. My watches. Cash. Choose one.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

“Then tell me what you do want.”

She pretended to consider it.

Then she smiled.

“I want you to kneel.”

I stared at her.

“Kneel in front of me. Apologize for the way you’ve treated me, then beg me to return the necklace.”

“I never did anything to you.”

“You existed.”

Her smile widened.

“As long as you were here, Vincent treated me like a temporary replacement. I want to watch the great Sophia Moreau beg.”

My hands curled into fists, but the necklace mattered more than my pride.

I remembered touching those pearls as a child while my mother promised they would belong to me one day.

For her necklace, I forced my fingers open.

Slowly, I began to bend my knees.

“Good girl,” Isabella said.

Then she laughed.

“But before you beg, you should see where the necklace is now.”

She took out her phone and played a video.

A filthy stray dog stood in an alley, wagging its tail.

My mother’s pearls hung around its neck.

For several seconds, I could not breathe.

“See?” Isabella held the screen closer. “That’s where it belongs.”

I straightened.

“What did you say?”

She tilted her head.

“A bitch’s necklace for a bitch.”

My blood turned cold.

“Your mother died chasing a man who didn’t want her,” Isabella continued. “Now her necklace is hanging around a stray dog’s neck. It suits her.”

My voice became quiet.

“Which hand did you use?”

“What?”

“Which hand did you use to put it on the dog?”

She lifted her right hand.

“This one. Why?”

I grabbed a wine bottle and brought it crashing down on the back of her right hand. Again and again.

Blood spread across the linen.

Isabella screamed.

The lounge doors opened.

Vincent stood in the doorway with her medication in one hand.

His gaze dropped to Isabella’s hand.

Then he looked at me.
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  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 13

    Isabella accepted a plea agreement three months later.She admitted to endangering Noah, planting the lavender, fabricating evidence, and paying women in the detention center to assault me. She was sentenced to prison and permanently lost custody of her son.Captain Russo pleaded guilty to bribery and unlawful detention. Four officers were charged with him.My own case did not disappear.I had stabbed Isabella in front of dozens of witnesses. The Bellamy attorneys could have pressured the prosecutor, but I refused to pretend I had done nothing.My plea also covered the fire at the Moreau estate. Vincent declined restitution, and because I had called emergency services and no one had been injured, the prosecutor agreed to resolve both incidents together.The judge credited the days I had already spent in detention and sentenced me to probation, restitution, and counseling.It was not perfect justice. It was honest.Noah went to live with Vincent’s parents. I left the education trust fro

  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 12

    The final Bellamy attack began at midnight.I sat with Victor in the Boston operations room, facing a wall of screens. Each displayed a different Moreau asset.At twelve fifteen, Bellamy security entered two warehouses leased through Vincent’s shell companies. The guards surrendered after learning their wages had not been paid.At twelve thirty, the private bank processing Moreau casino revenue suspended every account connected to the family.At one, Arthur Wynn delivered the original financial ledgers to federal investigators.At one twenty, four Moreau captains signed an agreement withdrawing their men from Vincent’s command.By two, the empire Vincent had spent his life controlling could no longer move money, weapons, or people without Bellamy permission.Victor watched me authorize each action. “Do you want me to finish it?”“No.” I selected the final file. “I want him awake when it happens.”We returned to New York before sunrise.The Moreau headquarters was surrounded by black Be

  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 11

    The Moreau council met in a private Manhattan hotel two days later. The building was neutral territory. No weapons were allowed beyond the entrance, and every major East Coast family had sent a representative.Victor entered beside me. Eleanor remained in Boston, but she called before we left.“You do not have to prove anything to them,” she said.“I’m not going for them.”Vincent was already inside when we arrived. He sat at the head of the table, dressed in black, his expression perfectly controlled. Only the untouched coffee beside him revealed that he had been there for hours.Isabella sat several seats away with her injured hand bandaged. Her face changed when she saw me.Vincent’s gaze moved to the fading bruises above my collar. His fingers tightened around the arm of his chair, but he said nothing.The council chairman opened the meeting. “Don Moreau, your private decisions have exposed shared operations, compromised law enforcement contacts, and disrupted business across three

  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 10

    Vincent returned to New York that night. By morning, he had ordered every Moreau captain to reroute shipments around Bellamy territory. He moved cash from legitimate companies, contacted alternative insurers, and threatened anyone who hesitated to obey.None of it surprised me. I had watched him manage the Moreau empire for ten years. Vincent responded to pressure by tightening his control. The harder people resisted, the more certain he became that absolute obedience would solve the problem.He still believed this was Victor’s war. He did not know I had spent the night studying every Moreau company connected to New England.Victor entered the library shortly after breakfast and found the table covered in financial reports.“You should sleep.”“I know where Vincent will move the money.”He picked up the list I had made. The first page contained the names of seven shell corporations. The second showed the warehouses Vincent used when official ports became unavailable. The third identifi

  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 9

    Vincent remained outside the gates for nearly an hour. He called Daniel twice, Marco six times, and the Bellamy estate directly until the security office stopped answering.I watched him through the upstairs window. Even from a distance, I recognized the rigid line of his shoulders. Vincent did not know how to wait for permission. He had built his entire life around the certainty that other people would eventually obey.Eleanor stood beside me. “You don’t have to see him.”“I know.”That was precisely why I decided to go downstairs.Victor received Vincent in a formal sitting room instead of the private rooms used by the family. Two Bellamy guards remained near the door.Vincent stood when I entered. His gaze moved over me quickly, checking my face, my hands, and the way I favored my injured side. Relief appeared first. Then anger covered it.“You look terrible.”I sat across from him. “You always know exactly what to say.”He ignored the remark. “We’re going back to New York. My docto

  • I Was Done Begging   Chapter 8

    The Bellamy retaliation began before sunrise.By eight the next morning, three Moreau shipments had been denied entry at Boston Harbor. Two insurance companies canceled coverage on vessels connected to Vincent’s shell corporations. A private bank demanded immediate repayment of a sixty-million-dollar credit line.At nine, Victor’s chief financial officer entered the breakfast room with another report. “The Moreau accounts in Providence and Hartford are temporarily frozen. Their attorneys are challenging the order.”Victor continued drinking his coffee. “Let them.”I sat across from him, reading the documents. The attacks were precise. No innocent employees had been targeted, and no legitimate Moreau business had been destroyed without cause. Victor had struck only the companies Vincent used to move money, weapons, and influence through Bellamy territory.“You did all this overnight?” I asked.“We have been controlling these ports longer than Vincent has been alive.” Victor set down his

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