I drum my fingers on the desk and look around the office. The sky’s an immaculate blue. My friendship with Bianca should’ve been just as absolute and beautiful. But…

Doubts drip into my heart, like acid. It burns, and I put my hand over it to soothe it without success. There has to be some mix-up. Some kind of miscommunication that can be cleared up easily.

Gathering myself, I type up my message for my best friend.

–Me: Hey, do you know what happened to the request from the Hae Min Group’s chairman asking us to design a special diamond set for his wife? Eugene sent me an email. Apparently he’s upset over our lack of response.

One heartbeat. Then two…three…four…

I count up to thirteen. The messenger beeps.

–Bianca: Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I just found the email in my spam folder! I don’t know how it got there.

I put a hand over my burning belly, the air frozen in my lungs. Yuna said Mr. Park called. Regardless of cultural and language barriers, nobody mixes up a call with an email.

–Me: Nobody called to follow up or discuss it personally?

–Bianca: Nope. I wish somebody had. Then I would’ve realized their email landed in my spam folder sooner.

But did it…? The skin around my eyes stings, and I blink away the tears. My head feels like a tornado has ripped through it. I can’t decide what to feel—what to do.

Finally, I muster a response.

–Me: Okay, I see. Can you please reply to them?

–Bianca: Drafting an email right now. I am SO sorry! I’ll make sure to check the spam folder more carefully from now on!

–Me: Are there other emails too?

What about phone calls? But I can’t type the question.

–Bianca: Just this one, thank God. But it’s an important one. We don’t want to upset them.

No, we certainly don’t. She knows how hard I’ve worked on this deal. How much I need it to go well so I can prove to everyone I have what it takes to lead the company. If this venture fails, I’ll look like an inexperienced fool.

I think I’m going to throw up.

–Me: I don’t feel well, so I’m going to head home. Can you reschedule my appointments and meetings, and let me know the new times?

–Bianca: Of course. I’ll let James know you’re leaving. Is there anything I can get you before you go? Tylenol?

See? Look how concerned she is for me. How can somebody like this be the one sabotaging my work?

This doesn’t add up. Something’s fishy. Maybe this perfect Mr. Park lied because he let the request slip through cracks.

Except that doesn’t explain the Gabriella Ricci matter.

I close my laptop, shove it into my purse and walk out of the building without saying goodbye to anyone. James is waiting, and I get in and have him pull out.

The cityscape flows by, and I just stare out the window. My brain refuses to process anything. It can’t think of a good scenario to explain what Yuna told me without laying the blame on Bianca, so I won’t even try.

I prefer that to attacking my best friend. Or so I tell myself, even though my stomach is twisted into a knot that’s growing more painful with each passing moment.

Finally, I step inside my home. Matthias looks up from wiping down the kitchen counter, then frowns. “Are you all right?”

“What?” I shake my head, realizing I can’t tell him anything. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”

“You’re pale,” he says, peering at my face.

“It’s just the heat.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow. I was in an air-conditioned office, then in an air-conditioned car—and now I’m in an air-conditioned mansion.

“Heat as in pressure from the new Korean venture. Business heat.” I force a smile. “Don’t worry.”

I go straight to my home office on the upper level, dump my purse on the desk and start pacing. Bianca’s always done everything I asked her to. There’s no way she’s been deliberately obstructing me.

Miscommunications happen when you’re working through email. I should talk with Sebastian and see if we can fly to Korea and do a face-to-face meeting to resolve all the remaining issues so we can move forward.

My phone pings. I fish it out of my purse.

–Bianca: All rescheduled. I sent you an email with updates. Review it in case you need to change something. Hope you’re feeling better XOXO.

See? She did what I asked. If I call Karen right now, she’ll tell me she’ll see me tomorrow at eleven. And HR and legal are still looking for a way to fire Darren without giving him a golden parachute, and the audit team she hired on my behalf to look into my trust fund is busy at work.

Nothing’s wrong. Not. A. Thing.

But I can’t settle down. Anxiety burns through me, and I continue to pace. Bianca and I are best friends. My childhood would’ve been bleak without her. When Grandfather belittled me, it was Bianca who hugged me. When Karl and Vonnie made their asshole moves, it was Bianca who sat with me and came up with a billion ways to get them back, to cheer me up. She almost got suspended from high school once for trying to punch Vonnie in the face…

Knocks on the door startle me out of my endless pacing. “Yes?”

Sebastian walks in. He must’ve come up right after he arrived. He’s still in his suit.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have meetings to attend?”

“Meetings? It’s six.”

Six? I’ve totally lost track of time, stressing about the situation with Bianca.

He takes my wrists gently and peers at me. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Matthias said you holed yourself away in your office as soon as you came home and wouldn’t answer his questions about dinner or snacks.”

I don’t remember any of that. But then, I was distracted. Maybe…just maybe that’s what happened with Bianca and Mr. Park. She’s overworked and needs another assistant in addition to Julio. You can only juggle so many balls before you start dropping some.

Then why didn’t she ask?

Maybe she overestimated her bandwidth…

And Gabriella Ricci?

It’s an unanswerable question. And there’s nobody I can talk to about this. I really don’t want to discuss the situation with Sebastian, especially because it feels disloyal to Bianca.

But he has a right to know what’s going on with the collaboration.

I sigh. “I got a call from Yuna.”

“Okay.” He leans against my desk.

Hugging myself, I tell him what she said about the multiple miscommunications.

He runs his hand along his jaw, his eyes narrowed. “That’s…wild.”

“I know, right?” I say, desperate to have somebody confirm Bianca is my true best friend. “It’s more than wild. It’s outlandish.” I resume pacing.

“But serious.” He straightens and takes my arms gently, forcing me to be still. He lifts my chin so I can look him in the eye. “You need to investigate this.”

“I know. But she’s my best friend.” My voice cracks.

Sympathy softens his gaze. “She might not feel the same way about you.”

“How can you say that?” I demand, furious he thinks so little of my friendship with her.

He remains calm. “I’ve been wondering why so many things aren’t as they should be. Your family shouldn’t have been at the party. There shouldn’t have been paparazzi taking our picture when we first ‘fake dated.’ Why would that have happened?”

“I’m famous, that’s why!” My voice grows shrill, almost hysterical.

“So am I. I grew up with famous people, and none of them have issues like you.”

“Maybe they’re just nicer people.”

“Nicer than Lucienne Peery?” He smiles sadly. “Nah.”

I close my eyes for a moment. I wish he were an asshole. Then he wouldn’t be saying things that force me to consider the most horrible, unimaginable possibility.

“Yuna told you the secretary spoke to Bianca,” he says. “Does she come across as the type to get confused about something like that?”

“But it’s Bianca.”

“Only the people who are close enough to stick a knife in your back can betray you.”

I shiver uncontrollably as my blood chills.

“Do you know why I lost my temper when my family told me I had to marry you or lose the company? It’s because I was backstabbed by people I thought I could count on.” He runs his thumb over my cool cheek, the gesture tender. “If you don’t look into her, you’ll never be sure.” He sighs heavily. “I’ve seen how hard you work. I’d hate to see you undermined from within. That just…wouldn’t be fair.”

“I don’t want to be disloyal,” I whisper. “Doubting her feels like I’m betraying her.”

“But if you never replace out for sure, you’ll always be second-guessing her motives, and your friendship will be ruined anyway. Plus, you might be right that she’s innocent. In which case, you need to replace out who’s really misrepresenting Peery Diamonds and framing Bianca to take the fall.”

That pulls me up short. I hadn’t considered the possibility that somebody could be framing Bianca. But she might have enemies, too. Julio? Darren, maybe? “You’re right. Somebody could be setting her up.”

I’m going to replace out who, and when I do, oh boy are they going to pay. I pull out my phone and text the head of IT and cybersecurity. He’s a night owl and doesn’t come to work until at least noon.

–Me: Is it possible for you to pull all emails, texts and phone logs for Bianca Martin? I don’t want you to hack into her phone or anything. Nothing illegal.

I add the last part because Dex is a reformed hacker. But some of the employees whisper he still breaks into other people’s phones and whatnot for fun.

–Dex: Nothing illegal. Got it.

A few moments later, there’s another text.

–Dex: Turns out I don’t need to do anything illegal. I just checked and see she’s using a company phone. All the company stuff comes with a release allowing us to look into activity on the devices. They come with monitoring apps, which will make things simple.

–Me: When can you have the info?

–Dex: Twenty-four hours at the most. I’ll email you everything direct. Guess you don’t want Bianca to know about this.

–Me: No, I don’t. Not her, not anyone. Thanks.

The phone slips from my nerveless hand. It’s done. Dex will be thorough. He’s going to clear Bianca.

He has to.

“Let’s get you fed.” Sebastian takes my chilled hand and rubs it.

I eat but immediately forget what I put in my mouth. I can’t follow anything, from him or the TV show he turns on. I’m trapped in my thoughts, the accusation against my best friend rolling around in my head.

Dex texts me at quarter till eleven with an attachment just as I’m about to climb into bed. I exhale shakily.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” Sebastian says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“No, it can’t. I’m not going to be able to sleep otherwise.” I look at him with a smile. “Dex just said, ‘Here you go.’ If there was anything damning, he would’ve texted, ‘I’m sorry.’ Right? I mean, he knows Bianca and I are tight.”

Sebastian doesn’t smile back. “Maybe. But it’s not good to look at something that could upset you before going to bed.”

He doesn’t hope Bianca is innocent as much as I do. The realization shouldn’t shock me—she isn’t his friend—but it still stings. It feels like it’s just me and her, and I’ve gotta do what I can to protect her, just like she’s done for me all my life.

“But I’m not going to be upset,” I say. “Not when this email is going to clear my bestie.”

I open the attachment. Read the emails Bianca’s been writing back and forth with the Hae Min Group.

Then I read them again.

My chin trembles. I clench my teeth. My heartbeat thunders in my head. Fool, fool, fool

Yuna was right about Bianca’s interaction with the liaisons from Hae Min…

But there’s more…

Texts she had with That Stalker, telling him where to replace me, the sort of headlines he should aim for…

Pictures from the party that she sent to The Hollywood News

Google Alerts for me and everyone associated with me…

Multiple anonymous user IDs for gossip sites so she could be the first to leave the nastiest comment or egg others on…

All the things a best friend would never do. But she did them. Using a phone my company paid for.

I don’t have the fortitude to go back further, but the interactions between her and That Stalker make it clear she’s been working with him for years.

Were we ever friends…?

My eyes burn as tears fall. I drop the phone and cover my face with my hands. I start to collapse, and Sebastian catches me. His palm is on the back of my head, his arm around my back.

He doesn’t try to comfort me with words. But then, there’s nothing that could soothe the pain blooming in my heart.

The truth will set you free.

That’s a lie.

The truth is jagged shards of glass you breathe in, shards that shred you until you think you’ll never recover.

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