I picked up my purse.

“I won’t.”

He smiled, apparently satisfied.

He had no idea that the purse contained an encrypted phone, a recording device, and a federal badge.

As we drove toward The Obsidian Room, Clint spent the entire journey talking about Meredith.

How brilliant she was.

How powerful she was.

How important tonight’s dinner would be.

I listened quietly.

Then he said something that made my blood run cold.

“After tonight, everything changes.”

I turned toward him.

“What do you mean?”

He smiled.

“You’ll see.”

I looked out the window.

The city lights reflected across the glass.

I wondered if he realized that his entire future was already sitting in the evidence file waiting for me.

At exactly eight o’clock, we arrived.

The Obsidian Room rose above the street like a fortress.

Dark stone.

Black glass.

Brass doors.

Security guards positioned discreetly around the entrance.

Clint straightened his jacket.

“This is where important people come to make important decisions.”

I looked at him.

“Is that why you brought me?”

He smiled.

“No.”

Then he stepped out of the car.

He leaned closer.

“It’s because tonight, Clara, you’re going to meet the people who matter.”

I smiled politely.

What he didn’t know was that I was about to show those people exactly who mattered.

We walked toward the entrance.

A hostess stepped forward.

Her eyes immediately landed on me.

Then on Clint.

She smiled.

“Mr. Harrison. Welcome back.”

Clint nodded.

“Good evening.”

She looked at me.

“Mrs. Harrison?”

“Yes.”

Her smile disappeared.

She glanced toward Clint.

He gave the smallest shake of his head.

The hostess understood.

Then she looked back at me.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Harrison.”

She lowered her voice.

“Your husband asked us to make sure you don’t disturb the private dinner.”

I stared at her.

Behind her stood the enormous brass doors leading into The Obsidian Room.

Beyond those doors was my husband.

His boss.

The mysterious ring.

And possibly millions of dollars in stolen money.

I smiled.

“That’s all right.”

The hostess looked relieved.

Until I reached into my purse.

Pulled out my federal badge.

And placed it on the marble counter.

Her entire expression changed.

“I’m afraid,” I said calmly, “I’m not here as his wife tonight.”

I looked toward the closed doors.

“I’m here as Special Agent Clara Harrison.”

And somewhere on the other side of those doors…

my husband was about to discover that the woman he had spent five years underestimating had been investigating him all along.

 THE NIGHT EVERYTHING COLLAPSED

The hostess stared at my badge as though she had forgotten how to breathe.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then her eyes lifted slowly from the badge to my face.

“Special Agent?”

I nodded.

“Clara Harrison.”

Her confidence disappeared.

“I… I didn’t know.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

I picked up the badge and slipped it back into my purse.

“Open the door.”

She hesitated.

“Mrs. Harrison, I—”

“Agent Harrison.”

“Yes. Agent Harrison.”

She stepped aside.

The heavy brass-studded doors opened with a quiet mechanical click.

Warm golden light spilled across the marble floor.

I walked inside.

And immediately understood why Clint was so desperate to belong there.

The Obsidian Room was everything he had spent the last five years chasing.

Dark mahogany walls.

Crystal chandeliers.

Private booths hidden behind velvet partitions.

Servers moving silently between tables.

Men wearing watches that cost more than houses.

Women dressed in gowns that probably cost more than my annual salary.

Everyone smiled.

Everyone pretended to be important.

And everyone was watching everyone else.

I slowly walked across the room.

I didn’t need to search for Clint for long.

I saw him before he saw me.

He was sitting in a secluded corner booth.