Carl watched as Rosita''s face darkened, his expression never wavering from its polite professionalism. "This diamond," he said, voice measured and calm, "was custommissioned at great expense by Mr. Wentworth. It has always belonged to someone else. You''ve had it long enough, Ms. Lockwood. It''s time to return it."


    Rosita clenched her jaw, fury simmering in her eyes, but she knew she had no choice.


    She strode over to the safe and retrieved a velvet jewelry box, deep blue and elegant.


    Carl took it from her, opening it to check the contents.


    Insidey the diamond, dazzling and wless-a rare natural stone from South Africa, one of a kind, worth a fortune.


    He pulled on a pair of white gloves and lifted the diamond for inspection, turning it carefully under the light.


    Etched on the inside were two letters: BK.


    Satisfied it was genuine, Carl ced the diamond back in the box and closed the lid with a quiet snap.


    He nodded coolly at Rosita. "Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Lockwood."


    Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the box in hand.


    Rosita stood there, her face twisted with barely contained rage.


    ...


    Two hourster, Rosita and Daisy stepped out of the mansion.


    Behind them, movers carried out boxes, loading them onto a waiting truck.


    Among the items were two mattresses-one from Rosita''s bedroom, the other from the room Lauren used to stay in.


    When Rosita saw the mattresses being carted out, herposure finally shattered.


    She jabbed a finger at the movers, her voice sharp with anger. "I don''t want that mattress anymore! You don''t need to move it!"


    Carl, standing to one side, raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don''t want it, Ms. Lockwood?"


    Rosita red at him, her patience gone. "What''s that supposed to mean, Carl? I''m one of the top actresses in the country-do you really think I can''t afford a mattress when I move out?"


    Carl remained unruffled. "Please don''t misunderstand, Ms. Lockwood. Mattresses are personal items, and both of these have already been used. Mr. Wentworth certainly won''t be keeping them. If you don''t want them, we''ll just have the movers dispose of them."


    Rosita''s hands balled into fists, humiliation burning in her chest.


    As if throwing her out wasn''t enough-now Stewart wanted to make a show of discarding even the mattress she slept on.


    It was a tant, unforgivable insult.


    "Fine. Just throw them out," she spat, closing her eyes as she struggled to keep her temper in check. Then, turning to Daisy, she said tightly, "Daisy, go start the car."


    Carl''s voice cut in again, polite but firm. "Ms. Lockwood, the car in the garage is also registered under Mr. Wentworth''s name. I''m afraid you can''t take it."


    Rosita froze.


    Daisy hovered awkwardly, looking from Rosita to Carl, unsure what to do. Rosita''sposure finally broke. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. "How could Stewart do this to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Doesn''t he care at all?"


    Carl spoke quietly. "You''re wee to arrange for your own ride, Ms. Lockwood. We''ll wa here until your car ives."


    Rosita gritted her teeth so hard her jaw shook. She yanked out her phone and called Bill.


    Bill, ever resourceful, quickly lined up a ce for her to stay and sent a driver to pick her up.


    The knowledge that she had somewhere to go steadied her, and by the time she left, she shot Carl a cold, defiant re, holding her head high as she climbed into the waiting van.


    Carl watched as the car pulled away, then pushed his sses up the bridge of his nose. He took out his phone and dialed. "Mr. Wentworth, Ms. Lockwood has moved out. The diamond has been retrieved."


    Bill had found Rosita a new ce at Dolphin Cove-a modest


    vel


    two-bedroom, one-bath unit on the eighteenth floor, just over nine hundred square feet. It was a secondhand apartment, nothing morous.


    "It''sst minute," Bill exined as he handed her the keys. "But the building''s secure. You can stay for now. I''ve already spoken to thepany. Next month, we''ll set you up with something bigger,"


    Rosita didn''t have a single dor to her name.


    Lauren had called her just yesterday, demanding another million.


    She didn''t want to give in, but Lauren was desperate and threatening to go to the tabloids if Rosita didn''t pay up.


    Rosita couldn''t risk a scandal. To keep Lauren quiet, she''d had to borrow the money from thepany-an advance against her next film.


    She had no other options left.


    Just yesterday, she never would have imagined her life could fall apart this quickly.


    The apartment''s decor was sloppy, clearly neglected for years. The moment she stepped inside, she was hit by the stale, musty smell of a ce long uninhabited.


    It was thest straw. The anger she''d been holding back finally erupted. "What a dump! I can''t stand this-I''m not living here!"