I stood beside my sister’s coffin, one hand on the tiny casket ribbon meant for the baby she never got to hold, when her husband walked in with his mistress on his arm. My bl:ood ran cold. ‘You really thought I wouldn’t find out?’ I said, flashing my badge. For weeks, I’d gathered every lie, every message, every trace of bl:ood. And when I exposed him in front of everyone, his smile vanished—but that was only the beginning.

“State Bureau of Investigation,” I repeated, my voice carrying over the stifled gasps of the mourners. I held the silver badge up, the polished metal glinting under the cathedral’s stained glass. “And this isn’t a courtesy call, Victor.”

Victor Sterling’s aristocratic features contorted. The smug superiority he had worn down the aisle evaporated, replaced by a twitching, barely concealed panic. He looked around the room, his eyes darting toward the heavy oak doors he had just walked through. Two men in dark suits had already moved to block the exit. My colleagues.

“Clara, this is insane,” Victor hissed, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. He tried to step toward me, to use his physical size to intimidate me, just as he had always done to my sister. “You’re hysterical. Elise just died. We are burying her and my son. Have some respect.”

“Respect?” I echoed, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. I took a step closer, erasing the distance between us. I could smell his expensive cologne, a scent that now made my stomach turn. “Respect is not bringing your mistress to your pregnant wife’s funeral. Respect is not altering the brakes on Elise’s SUV three days before she drove off the embankment on Highway 101.”

Sabrina ripped her arm away from Victor’s as if she had just been burned. “Brakes? Victor, what is she talking about?”

“She’s out of her mind!” Victor barked, his face flushing crimson. He turned to the congregation, throwing his hands up in a theatrical display of victimization. “My sister-in-law has always hated me. She’s using her badge to harass an innocent, grieving man!”

“Save the performance for the jury,” I said coldly. I nodded to the agents at the back of the room. “Victor Sterling, you are under arrest for the murders of Elise Sterling and her unborn child. You have the right to remain silent. I highly suggest you use it.”

As the agents moved in, cuffing him right in front of the casket, Victor’s eyes locked onto mine. The mask was completely gone now. Beneath the charming, wealthy facade was a cornered animal.