Brinley imagined Starla at that very moment, probably weeping amidst the wreckage of her home in Maple Heights, the place she had prepared as her escape after the divorce. The thought brought a cruel smile to her lips, the first genuine feeling of pleasure she’d had in days.
“And Fairfax, Mom, I…” The brief moment of triumph vanished as she thought of him. For the past six months, he had been by her side, and she had allowed herself to believe he had feelings for her. But his recent defense of Starla had filled her with a terrifying sense of dread.
Harriet’s eyes flashed with cold anger. “We can’t rush things with Fairfax. First, we eliminate Starla.”
“Okay,” Brinley agreed immediately. “We’ll deal with Starla first.”
With her mother here, she finally felt a sense of control again.
Just as she was about to say more, Harriet’s phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and answered. It was her assistant.
“Clyde.”
“Ma’am,” Clyde’s voice was grave, “there’s a fire at the Vista Bay property.”
“What?” Harriet shot up from her chair, knocking it over with a loud crash. Her face went pale, and her grip on the phone tightened. “What happened?”
“We’re still investigating the cause, but the fire is out of control. The property management can’t contain it. The fire department is on its way.”
Her mansion in Vista Bay was her prized possession, a symbol of everything she had achieved as a single mother. It was where she stayed whenever she was in Marina City. To think that it was burning on the very day she returned…
Was it a coincidence, or was it deliberate?
She trembled with rage. “How big is the fire that they can’t control it?” Many of her most important documents, not to mention her priceless jewelry and art collection, were in that house. The thought of losing it all sent her blood pressure soaring.
“It’s massive, ma’am. They’re doing everything they can, but…”
But it was no use.



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