The invitation was not a request. It was a royal summons.

*Grandfather expects us for dinner at the estate. 7 PM. Wear the blue dress. Do not be late.*

Julian’s text message had arrived precisely three days after he walked out of the penthouse with my Stradivarius. For three days, I had lived in

The penthouse was suffocatingly quiet. For the first time since the chandelier fell, I was entirely alone in the sprawling, glass-walled monument to Julian’s wealth. The silence should have been peaceful, but it only amplified the dull, unrelenting throb in my right hand.

I stood in the center of

The grand ballroom of the Zenith Gallery was a sea of champagne flutes, flashing cameras, and the hushed, pretentious whispers of the city’s elite. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the modern art exhibits, reflecting off the diamonds draped around the necks of billionaires and socia