After four years behind bars, I came home hoping for nothing more than to hug my father, but my stepmother opened the front door and said, “He passed away eight months ago. This property belongs to me now.” I silently walked to the graveyard with an old key in my pocket, completely unaware that the caretaker was about to whisper something that would shatter my reality.

The ballroom at the Ritz was a sea of silk, diamonds, and toxic wealth. Waiters carried silver trays of champagne through a crowd of the city’s elite.

I walked through the gilded double doors feeling like a completely different man. The prison pallor was hidden behind a sharp haircut, and the bespoke black tuxedo fit me like a suit of armor. No one recognized the ex-convict Julian Sterling. I was just another wealthy face in the crowd.

Through an earpiece, Sloane’s voice guided me. “They’re at the VIP table near the orchestra. Keep your head down.”

I wove through the crowd, my eyes locked on my targets.

Evelyn was holding court, wearing a backless crimson gown, laughing brightly as she clinked glasses with a pair of wealthy investors. Preston stood beside her, looking arrogant and flushed with alcohol, bragging about his "vision" for the company.

It made me physically sick to watch them.

“Don't engage them directly,” Sloane warned in my ear. “We just need to plant the seed. Slip the item onto their table and walk away.”

I reached into my pocket. My father had left a very specific item in the warehouse for this exact moment: his gold pocket watch. The one Evelyn swore she had buried him with. It was broken, stuck at the exact time he had supposedly "died."

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray and smoothly merged into the crowd pressing against the VIP table. Preston was busy telling a joke. Evelyn was looking away.

With the sleight of hand I had learned the hard way in Oakwood Prison, I slipped the gold pocket watch directly onto Evelyn’s salad plate.

I didn't run. I simply turned and walked toward the terrace doors.

Three seconds later, the laughter at the VIP table abruptly stopped.

I glanced over my shoulder. Evelyn was staring down at her plate. All the color had drained from her face. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. She picked up the watch with trembling fingers, her eyes darting wildly around the ballroom.