“Gross. Give that thing to Shelby for her to clean up.”

I opened my door and vomited.

74

I’d seen violence in prison, plenty of it. Travis’s blood-coated body at the hand of my sister had affected me physically, and I vomited then too. Years ago, Marissa used paper towels to clean me up. This time she tossed me two tissues.

“Get yourself together.”

I wiped my mouth and closed the door seconds before Lee sped from the scene. Plenty of accusations longed to surface, but if I slipped, she’d maim or kill me. Who’d be left to help Aria? Swallowing my revulsion for my sister, I picked up the finger and ring wrapped in bloody tissues on the leather seat beside me.

“About time you showed a little guts,” Marissa fumed. “When we get back to the penthouse, go directly to your room. I’ll have Eli bring you a jar of jewelry cleaner. Once you’re finished, bring the ring to me. By then, I’ll be on the balcony with Aria.”

Eli met us at the door when we arrived. Aria was nowhere in sight, and neither did I hear her. For the past several days, I’d done exactly as Marissa instructed. Not sure how I could continue.

Be strong. This isn’t about you.

In the confines of my bedroom, I released my grip from the blood-soaked tissues holding the dead woman’s finger and ring and laid the wadded mess on the bathroom marble countertop. I fought the urge to sob and throw up again. No doubt cameras and recording devices would send a feed to Marissa. How would I ever be a part of her inner circle when witnessing her business practices made me physically ill? Nothing in the scenario from yesterday, today, or tomorrow looked good. I had to trust God. The adage sounded easier than practicing it. In prison, I expected nefarious behavior, but not from Marissa. Witnessing her methods shook me, and yet I must gain control.

A tap at the door told me Eli had arrived with the cleaning solution. I took the jar, paper towels, and small brush without addressing him. He chuckled.

A woman and a man lay dead because of an unpaid debt.

Through the glass doors onto the balcony, I saw Aria in tears seated at the table across from Marissa. I wrestled with how to handle the situation—play into Marissa’s hand or show how much I cared for Aria’s plight? My niece had intelligence going for her, and I had to believe she’d see through my callous response to her . . . and see God’s sovereignty.

“What’s the hesitation?” Eli said.

“Aria’s upset and she may need more time with Marissa.”

“Doubt it. Marissa would rather have the ring. The kid gets on her nerves.”

I stepped out onto the balcony and captured Aria’s gaze. She hurried to me and fell into my embrace. Her lip bled, and a bruise rose on her right cheekbone. My fury rose for what Marissa or Eli had done to her.