Chapter 3

The next morning, Mom knocked on my bedroom door.

"Scarlett, honey," she said through the door. "Would you like to come see my new designs at the studio?"

I knew that tone. Mom didn't want to show me designs. She wanted to talk somewhere Crystal couldn't hear us.

"Give me five minutes," I said.

Twenty minutes later, we were driving to Mom's design studio in West Hollywood. Neither of us spoke during the drive, but I could feel the tension radiating from her.

Mom's studio was her sanctuary. Floor-to-ceiling windows, white walls covered with fabric samples and sketches, mannequins wearing her latest creations. This was where she'd built her empire.

She closed the door behind us and turned the lock.

"Scarlett," she said, and I could see the exhaustion in her face. Not physical tiredness. Mental exhaustion. "I need you to tell me something honestly. This Crystal girl... is there something wrong with her brain?"

I took a deep breath. Finally. Someone was asking the right question.

"Mom, you don't need any psychology degree to see what she's doing. She wants to control Phoenix. Cut him off from all of us."

"But why?"

"Money. This house. Everything we have."

Mom nodded slowly. "I thought so. Victoria Ravencroft doesn't wash anyone's underwear. Not unless that person is my daughter."

For the first time in two days, I smiled.

"She's trying to break down our family structure," I continued. "Make Phoenix think we're the problem so he'll choose her over us."

"And it's working." Mom sat down heavily in her desk chair. "He's actually considering it."

"He's young and stupid. And she's good at this. I guarantee we're not her first targets."

Mom pulled out her phone. "I've been recording some of the things she's said. I thought I might need evidence later."

She played back a voice memo from yesterday. Crystal's voice came through clearly: "Phoenix doesn't need his family anymore. I'm all the family he needs. They're just holding him back."

"She said that while you were in the kitchen getting her tea," Mom explained.

"What else do you have?"

Mom scrolled through several more recordings. Crystal talking about how she planned to redecorate the entire house. Crystal complaining that Phoenix's family had "too much influence" over him. Crystal saying she couldn't wait until "the old generation" stepped aside.

"She thinks she's won," I said.

"Hasn't she?"

Before I could answer, we heard Dad's car in the parking lot outside. Mom looked confused.

"He's supposed to be at the office."

Dad appeared in the doorway a minute later, looking grim.

"I came home to check on things," he said. "Crystal informed me that she's moved into our bedroom and we need to find other arrangements."

Mom and I exchanged glances.

"She what?" Mom asked.

"Our bedroom. She says it's more appropriate for the 'primary couple' in the house." Dad's jaw was tight. "I told her absolutely not, and she started crying and calling for Phoenix."

"Let me guess," I said. "Phoenix took her side."

"He said I was being unreasonable. That we should be more 'flexible' during their transition period."

Dad sat down across from us. For the first time, I saw real anger in his eyes.

"Thirty years I've been married to your mother. Twenty-eight years we've lived in that house. And some girl I met two days ago thinks she can kick us out of our own bedroom."

"So what do we do?" Mom asked.

I looked at both my parents. These were successful, intelligent people who'd built careers and raised children and dealt with difficult people their entire lives.

But they'd never dealt with someone like Crystal.

"We need a plan," I said. "And we need help."

"What kind of help?" Dad asked.

"First, we need the family involved. Your sisters, Mom. Dad's brothers. Everyone needs to know what's happening here."

"And then?"

"Then we need professional help. Someone who can expose what she really is."

Mom leaned forward. "You mean like a private investigator?"

"That too. But I was thinking more like someone who could analyze her behavior professionally. Make Phoenix see what we're seeing."

"You mean a psychologist," Dad said.

"Someone with credentials. Someone Phoenix would have to listen to."

We spent the next hour making lists and assigning tasks. Mom would call her sisters and her fashion industry friends. Dad would hire a private investigator to look into Crystal's background. I would reach out to my contacts at Stanford and UCLA.

"This has to be subtle," I warned. "If Crystal realizes what we're doing, she'll just manipulate Phoenix into cutting us off completely."

"So we pretend everything is normal," Mom said.

"Exactly. Let her think she's winning while we gather information and allies."

Dad checked his watch. "We should get back. They'll be suspicious if we're gone too long."

We drove back in a much better mood than when we'd left. Having a plan felt good. Having allies felt even better.

But when we walked into the house, Crystal was waiting in the living room with her arms crossed.

"Where have you been?" she asked accusingly.

"I showed Scarlett my new collection," Mom said smoothly. "Professional consultation."

Crystal's eyes narrowed slightly, but she couldn't find anything wrong with that explanation.

"Well, Phoenix and I have an announcement," she said. "We're going wedding dress shopping tomorrow. Just the two of us. I don't want any outside opinions influencing his choices."

"Of course," Mom said. "That's very romantic."

"And we'll probably be gone all day. Maybe even stay overnight in the city. Phoenix needs to start prioritizing our relationship over family obligations."

There it was again. The systematic isolation.

Crystal studied our faces, looking for any sign of resistance. When she didn't find any, she seemed satisfied.

"I'm glad we understand each other," she said.

After she left the room, the three of us exchanged glances. We all understood each other perfectly.

Crystal had just made a big mistake. She was giving us a full day to put our plan into action.

We were settling into the living room to discuss details when Phoenix's phone rang in the kitchen.

We could hear him answer it.

"Hello?" There was a pause. Then his voice changed completely.

"What? A million?"

We all looked at each other.