My future mother-in-law ripped the insulin pump from my waist at my sister’s wedding, threw it into a bin of lobster shells, and laughed, "There. Now you’re cured of your need for attention."

Inside the high-security federal detention center in downtown Manhattan, Evelyn Thorne-Blackwood sat in a stark, windowless interrogation room, wearing an orange jumpsuit that clashed violently with her manicured blonde hair and expensive cosmetics.

Her famous composure was entirely gone. Her hands shook as she clutched a styrofoam cup of lukewarm water, her eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness and blind fury.

The heavy steel door swung open, and Liam Vance walked in, followed by a stenographer.

Evelyn slammed her cup down onto the metal table, water sloshing over the rim. "How dare you keep me in this filthy hole?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the concrete walls. "Do you know who my husband was? Do you know how many politicians owe their careers to my family?!"

Liam pulled out a chair, sat down opposite her, and folded his hands calmly on the table.

"Your husband passed away five years ago, Mrs. Blackwood, and your political connections just abandoned you the moment the federal indictments dropped," Liam said evenly. "Even your son Julian has refused to answer your lawyers' phone calls today."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. A flicker of genuine panic crossed her face, instantly masked by arrogant defiance. "That’s impossible. Julian wouldn't abandon me. He’s my flesh and blood."

"Julian is looking at federal conspiracy charges for helping cover up your offshore accounts," Liam countered, sliding a document across the table. "Signatures matching his authorized corporate stamp approved the wire transfers to the black-market chemist who supplied the amber vial."

Evelyn stared at the paper as if it were a venomous snake.

"She deserved it," Evelyn whispered, her voice dropping into a venomous hiss that chilled the room. "That manipulative little parasite was bleeding my son dry. She used her pathetic little medical gadgets to trap Grant into a fake engagement, playing the victim every time someone looked at her wrong. I only did what any protective mother would do. I cleaned house."

Liam leaned forward, his gray eyes narrowing into laser focus.

"You didn't clean house, Evelyn. You tried to murder an innocent woman in front of three hundred witnesses because your vanity couldn't handle an inconvenience," Liam said coldly. "And now, every single skeleton in your family’s closet is about to be dragged into the sunlight."