The Stolen Sapphire: His Fake Girlfriend

The private club in Midtown smelled of old money-mahogany, leather, and cigar smoke.

Denis Stephens stood in the locker room, fastening the cuffs of a fresh shirt. He looked in the mirror. His face was impassive, but there was a tightness around his eyes.

Gavin Cole, his business partner and the only person who dared to mock him, leaned against the doorframe.

"So," Gavin grinned. "I hear you got assaulted by a dairy product at thirty thousand feet."

Denis adjusted his collar. "It was an accident."

"Was she hot?"

Denis paused. He thought of the girl's eyes-wild, desperate, green. He thought of the way she felt in his arms, burning with fever.

"She was a disaster," Denis said. "A mess."

"But?"

"But nothing. Find out who she is. I want to send her the dry cleaning bill."

Gavin laughed. "You make more in a second than that suit cost. You just want to know her name."

"Do it, Gavin."

At a bistro three blocks away, Jonas Ramirez stared at his phone. His knuckles were white around his wine glass.

"Are you sure?" he asked. His voice was tight.

Flo's voice came through the speaker, breathless and teary. "I saw her, Jonas. She looked awful. And that thug she was with... he practically attacked us when we asked about the baby."

Baby.

The word echoed in Jonas's head. Belle had left three years ago. She had ghosted him. And now she was back, sick, with some tattooed guy, and possibly pregnant?

He felt a surge of possessiveness that had no right to exist. She was his Belle. The innocent, fiery girl he had fallen for. She couldn't be pregnant by someone else.

"She's at the hospital?" Jonas asked.

"No," Flo said. "She checked herself out. She's heading to the Manor. To ruin Aryana's engagement, probably."

Jonas hung up. He tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table, ignoring the unfinished risotto.

"Where are you going?" his friend asked.

"To get answers," Jonas said, grabbing his coat.

Adan's Jeep Wrangler was old, noisy, and smelled of fast food. Belle sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the cool window.

"You should really go back to the hospital," Adan said, navigating the traffic toward the Queens Midtown Tunnel.

"Drive faster," Belle murmured.

"Why the rush? The necklace isn't going anywhere."

"It's not just the necklace," Belle said. She looked at her hand, where the blood had dried. "If I don't go now, Ewart will hide it. Or sell it. He knows I'm back."

Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

We have your bag. Cute underwear. - F

Belle threw the phone onto the dashboard.

In the back of the Maybach, Denis received a notification on his tablet. Gavin worked fast.

Belle Stanton. Eldest daughter of Ewart Stanton. Mother was a Harvey. Estranged for 3 years. Studied Art History in Paris. No criminal record, but a lot of speeding tickets.

Denis stared at the name. Stanton.

He knew the family. New money trying to pass as old money. Ewart was a snake. And they were about to merge with the Bryans-his cousin Carlton's future in-laws. A sudden, cold curiosity took hold.

"Driver," Denis said, his voice sharp.

"Yes, sir?"

"Change of plans. We're going to the Stanton estate on Long Island."

"Sir? That's two hours away."

"I have a... bill to deliver," Denis said, a rare, predatory smile touching his lips. "And I want to see for myself what kind of family my cousin is marrying into."

Three cars. Three different agendas. All converging on one house.