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S HE LOOKS… VICTORIOUS.

I straighten, ripping my elbow from Tom. We weren’t doing anything wrong.

Okay, that’s not completely true.

We were conspiring to steal Leonie’s millions, but that’s not the accusation sharpening Leonie’s smirk.

“Olivia,” she says, her tone smugly satisfied. “I’m disappointed in you.” She smiles. A predator trapping their prey.

“And yet you look pleased,” I reply. I have no shortage of practice dealing with adults who want to gloat over my bad behavior.

Who act like they just care so much. Only looking out for you and your future.

When really, they’re just pleased to tell me how wrong I am, glorying in the feeling of superiority over a child’s mistakes.

Leonie clears her throat, unapologetic. “Yes, well, I do love to be right. Careful,” she continues. “Infidelity is one sin even I don’t condone.”

I try to calm my pulse. Tom and I weren’t doing what she thinks. Besides, I don’t need a lecture on right and wrong from my wicked grandmother. She may be rich, but morally she has nothing worth stealing.

“Oh yeah?” I return. “Is that why you didn’t disown my father until years after he cheated on my mom? Is that how much you don’t condone infidelity?”

I’ve surprised her. I can tell by the way her grip loosens on the doorknob. I don’t know how often this family calls her on her actions. Probably never. Is it a good thing I’ve impressed her?

I have a hunch it’s not.

My suspicion is confirmed when Leonie’s gaze changes. New recognition enters her eyes, but I don’t know what she feels she’s understood. I don’t think I want to.

Then Leonie’s stare swivels off me.

“Thomas,” she says welcomingly. “I think you should join us tomorrow. We’re traveling to Norway for the day. Family only.”

I fume. Leonie’s ploy requires no expert decoding. “Tom’s not family,” I say indignantly.

Leonie shrugs loftily.

“I like him,” she offers in explanation. “It’s my inn. My decision.”

No, she doesn’t. She doesn’t like Tom. In fact, I’m certain she personally prefers Jackson. She just dislikes me with Jackson. Including Tom on the exclusive Norway trip—with me—is intended to put pressure on my relationship. Like Leonie wants me to choose him. To leave Jackson behind.

I don’t intend to submit easily to her little power play. Owens stubbornness shouldn’t surprise Leonie.

“And I assume my boyfriend isn’t invited?” I demand.

“Only Tom, Olivia,” Leonie replies. “I think his presence will ensure we all have a wonderful time.”

My hands clench in involuntary fists. Leonie knows I’m powerless in this. I can’t demand Tom stay without revealing our connection, and I can’t even argue overmuch without my relationship with Jackson seeming as fragile as Leonie wants. She has me exactly where she wants me.

But I hold on to the power Leonie doesn’t have. While she controls our itinerary, our guest list, the very roof over our heads, she doesn’t control my heart. It’s the one thing I won’t sacrifice for my heist. The one piece of me that will remain free of the Owens family’s scheming.

I have to play Leonie’s games—I don’t have to let her win.