“I’ll have my secretary call ahead to make sure we have some space to ourselves.” Ideally, somewhere close to the meeting among Gage, Jonah and Desmond. She didn’t have a plan for crashing it, but being nearby like that might yield an opportunity to find out more.

“Sounds good,” Elena said warmly. “I’m so grateful for the help you’ve already given me, Chiara. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

Chiara had seen the way Elena’s followers jumped after her posts the day before. Ideally, Elena’s gratitude would make it tough for her to turn Chiara down when she asked for some favors in return.

“It’s my pleasure to tout talented friends,” she told her honestly, typing a list of questions she wanted answered about Gage’s partners. “Although I assure you, the big following comes with as many heartaches as joys.”

Not that anyone ever believed her about that. But as far as she was concerned, the view from the top of the social media world was a study in terror. The only direction to go was down. For Chiara, the question every day became, would she fall fast in a stomach-churning nosedive? Or would her decline be a slow and steady destruction of everything she’d earned these last few years?

If her time as reigning social media queen was coming to an end, it was all the more reason to hasten her search for answers about Zach. Whatever power she possessed, she was going to leverage it for the sake of the truth.

“That’s the story of my life, Chiara,” Elena admitted drily. “Just when the joys become their most wonderful, heartache kicks in. I’m still glad for the boost.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Chiara was already calculating how fast she could get out the door so she’d be there during the owners’ meeting. “I can meet you at the casino anytime after noon. We can hit the shops and talk over lunch.”

“I’ll message you when I’m there,” Elena promised before disconnecting the call.

Rushing to dress, Chiara dictated a few more questions into her phone, including what role Gage Striker’s father might have played in making sure Zach’s death wasn’t reported in school for months afterward.

She chose a couture pantsuit for spring that a designer had sent her the week before, slipping into the champagne-colored fabric while she texted her hairdresser to fix her blowout. Another perk in her life she didn’t feel worthy of.