Lionel nodded. He thought he had just seen Hannah, but she should have been at the hospital. He must have been mistaken.


    As they continued walking, his eyes were drawn to a ne disyed in the window of the resale shop. He stopped dead in his tracks.


    "Mr. Rosenberg?" Owen paused, confused. He followed Lionel''s gaze and saw the ne. His mind went nk.


    Why is that ne here? What''s going on?


    He looked up at the store''s name—a high-end consignment shop-and swallowed hard, his mind racing toe up with an exnation.


    Lionel strode into the store, his expression grim. The owner, seeing his expensive suit, immediately rushed over.


    "Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you find something? A gift for a loved one, perhaps?" the owner said cheerfully. "We may be a resale shop, but all our items are authenticated and in near-mint condition. You''d never know they weren''t straight from the boutique."


    "That ne in the window. I want to see it," Lionel said, his voice as cold as ice.


    Owen, standing beside him, shivered. He discreetly reached into his pocket, nning to text Sandra and ask what was going on.


    "Excellent eye, sir. That piece just came in a few days ago. I''m told it''s one of a kind in the country." The owner put on a pair of gloves, carefully retrieved the ne, and presented it on a velvet tray.


    "The youngdy who sold it was going through a family emergency and had to part with it. She said her lover gave it to her just a couple of weeks ago, and she''d only worn it two or three times. It''s practically new."


    Lionel stared down at the ne. There was no doubt. It was the one he had given to Hannah. But he had never seen her wear it.


    And what family emergency? Even if there was one, he would never let her get to the point of selling jewelry for cash.


    "So, are you


    you like to interested, sir? Or would


    something else?


    just received a lovely collectionezet


    bracelets and rings:


    At the owner''s direction, a clerk brought out the very pieces Hannah had just sold.


    Lionel recognized them instantly, and his face darkened.


    "You said these just came in?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.


    The owner, sensing the shift in mood, cautiously began to put the items away.


    "Sir, we have a strict policy about


    astr


    protecting our sellers'' privacy. As long as the items are acquired


    legally, we ept them," he sai


    swallowing nervously. He had a feeling he knew what the


    rtionship was between this man and his earlier client.


    "The person who sold these... did she just leave?" Lionel pressed.


    The owner took a deep breath. "I''m sorry, sir. I can''t answer that."


    Lionel''s face was a thundercloud. He stood up and barked at Owen,


    "Contact the mall manage nee


    want


    the security footage from this area. Now."


    So it hadn''t been his imagination. That was Hannah.


    She was selling the jewelry he had given her behind his back.


    Owen hurried off, pulling out his phone to call Sandra.