From Trash To Treasure: Masked Heiress

One hour earlier, inside a soundproof room at the Syndicate headquarters.

A man named Quentin was tied to a chair. His face was swollen.

Deondre stood in front of him. He was wearing an immaculate cream-colored suit. He held the black and gold coin between his thumb and forefinger.

"You tried to kill a Lancaster without my permission," Deondre said. His voice was gentle, almost affectionate.

Quentin sobbed. "They paid double! Terrence Lancaster paid double!"

Deondre sighed. He looked disappointed.

"It is not about the money, Quentin. It is about the rules."

He flipped the coin.

"And you made her use this. You put her in danger."

Deondre nodded to Quincy. Quincy stepped forward with a plastic sheet.

Deondre walked out of the room. He picked up a tablet Quincy had left on the table. It displayed a profile.

Ivy Goff.

The photo showed a girl with frizzy hair, thick glasses, and a vacant expression. Deondre smiled.

"Still playing hide and seek, little doctor?"

He walked to a wall safe and spun the dial. He took out a velvet box. Inside sat a pink diamond ring, rare and flawless.

He handed it to a guard outside the door.

"Send this to her. Tell her... the debt is acknowledged."

At the Goff estate, the living room air was thick with tension.

Joette was trying to pour tea for Felicity Miles. Her hands shook so badly the china rattled. Felicity ignored the cup.

Jerome Miles stood by the fireplace. He looked at the furniture with disdain.

Cleora sat on the sofa, her posture perfect. She exchanged a glance with Pringle.

"I will go check if Miss Ivy is awake," Pringle announced loudly. "She had a... long night."

Jerome sneered.

Footsteps scuffed on the stairs. Slow. Dragging.

Ivy walked into the room. She was wearing the gray hoodie and baggy jeans. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets.

She didn't look at anyone. She walked straight to the kitchen area of the open-plan room and poured a glass of water.

Jerome slammed his hand on the mantelpiece.

"Ivy! Have you no manners?"

Ivy took a sip of water. She turned around slowly. Her eyes were unfocused behind the lenses.

"And you are?" she asked.

The room went silent. Cleora covered her mouth to hide a smile.

Jerome's face turned a deep shade of red.

"I am your future father-in-law! Or I was!"

Jared Miles stood in the corner. He looked at Ivy. He hated how she looked-frumpy, messy, uninterested. It made him feel small.

Ivy shrugged.

"Okay. So?"