Zara's POV
I stared at the mysterious text until my vision blurred.
Your real birthday gift arrives tomorrow. Happy 25th, Princess. Time to learn who you really are.
Princess? What kind of sick joke was this? After everything that happened tonight, someone was messing with me?
I deleted the message and shoved my phone in my pocket. I had bigger problems. Like where I was going to sleep tonight.
My apartment was only six blocks away. I could grab some clothes, figure out my next move. Maybe crash on someone's couch, though after tonight, I wasn't sure I had any friends left.
The walk felt like a funeral march. Every step reminded me how completely my life had fallen apart in the span of two hours.
I turned the corner onto my street and froze.
My clothes were scattered across the sidewalk.
Dresses. Shoes. Underwear. Books. Picture frames. Everything I owned, dumped on the wet pavement like garbage. Rain had soaked through cardboard boxes that had split open, spilling my entire life into the gutter.
"No." The word came out as a gasp.
I ran forward, dropping to my knees beside a box of photos. The images were already ruined, ink bleeding, faces becoming ghosts. My mother's smile dissolved under my fingers.
"Looking for these?"
I whipped around.
Marcus stood in the doorway of my apartment building, dangling a set of keys. My keys.
"You changed the locks." It wasn't a question.
"Had to." He shrugged, not even trying to hide his smirk. "The lease is in my name, remember? You never bothered to get added. Guess that was a mistake on your part."
My stomach dropped. He was right. When we moved in together eight months ago, Marcus said he'd handle the paperwork. I'd trusted him.
Idiot. I'd been such an idiot.
"You can't just throw me out," I said, hating how my voice shook. "This is illegal. I live here."
"Lived. Past tense." He tossed something at my feet. A piece of paper. "That's an eviction notice. Signed by the landlord this afternoon. Turns out, when I explained you'd been staying here without being on the lease, he was very understanding."
I grabbed the paper. It was real. Legal. Effective immediately.
"Why are you doing this?" Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back. I wouldn't cry in front of him again. "What did I ever do to you?"
"You existed." Marcus walked down the steps, stopping inches from me. "You and your sad story, your dead mommy, your mean stepfamily. It was pathetic. Lila and I used to laugh about it."
The words cut deeper than any knife could.
"The jewelry contacts were worth it though," he continued. "Made some good money selling your business information to competitors. That appraisal company you worked so hard to build? They're getting sued for breach of confidentiality. Guess whose name is attached to the leaked files?"
The ground tilted beneath me. "What?"
"Yours." He grinned. "You're about to lose your reputation, your license, everything. By tomorrow, no one in the jewelry world will touch you."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. This wasn't just humiliation—he'd destroyed my entire career.
"Oh, and one more thing." Marcus pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, then turned it toward me. "Smile. You're famous."
The video from the restaurant was already online. Forty thousand views. Comments flooded the screen, each one crueler than the last.
"She really thought he wanted her lmao"
"Gold digger got what she deserved"
"That's what happens when you date out of your league"
My hands curled into fists. "I will destroy you for this."
Marcus laughed. "With what? You're homeless, jobless, and broke. Your father cut you off—yeah, Bella told me. Said your stepmom called during dinner to share the good news. No inheritance for poor little Zara."
He knew. He'd known while he was humiliating me at the restaurant that my father had just died.
Something inside me snapped.
I lunged at him, but Marcus sidestepped easily. I hit the wet pavement hard, skinning my palms.
"Careful," he said, looking down at me. "Assaulting me would just make things worse. Though I guess they can't get much worse for you, can they?"
He walked away, whistling.
I stayed on the ground, rain pouring down, surrounded by my ruined belongings. Rock bottom. This was rock bottom.
My phone rang. I almost didn't answer, but the name made me hesitate.
Viktor Stone.
My old mentor. The man who'd taught me everything about stealing, about survival, about staying invisible. I hadn't spoken to him in three years, not since I'd gone straight.
"Viktor?"
"Get somewhere dry. Now." His voice was rough, urgent. "You're in danger."
"I'm already in danger. Of dying from humiliation."
"I'm serious, kid. That text you got—about being a princess? It's not a joke."
My blood went cold. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I sent someone to watch you tonight. After what I found out—Zara, you need to meet me. Right now. There are people coming for you, and they don't just want to ruin your life. They want you dead."
"Dead? Viktor, what are you talking about—"
"Your mother. She wasn't who you think she was." He coughed, a wet, painful sound. "And neither are you. That ruby I mentioned, the one from the museum? It's connected to your family. Your real family."
"My real family? Viktor, you're not making sense—"
"The Blood Moon Ruby was forged by your ancestor three hundred years ago. You're not some jeweler's daughter, Zara. You're royalty. And the people who killed your mother are coming to finish the job."
The line went dead.
I sat there, soaked and shaking, his words echoing in my head.
Royalty. My mother. Killed.
Headlights suddenly flooded the street. A black car screeched to a stop ten feet away. The doors opened, and three figures in dark clothes stepped out.
One of them raised something that glinted in the streetlight.
A gun.
"Zara Moretti," a voice called out. "Come with us quietly, and we won't hurt you. Resist, and you die here like your mother did."
I ran.