Mistress of the Game

Lexi scanned the article impassively. As usual, the Journal was frighteningly accurate on the facts. She was more interested in the picture. Some bright young thing had gotten ahold of a shot of Lexi in her wedding dress. She looked stunning. I was so right to go vintage. She returned the paper.

“You have to get me off this, Mark.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I can’t stay here, I’ll go crazy. I have to get back to the States.”

“Whoa, slow down a minute, would you? You only just got out of the States. And that wasn’t easy.”

“I want my company back.”

Mark Hambly laughed. “One thing at a time, Lexi. Let’s focus on keeping you out of jail, shall we?”

“What do you suggest?”

Mark explained the various possibilities for a defense: Eve Blackwell was known to be of unsound mind. Lieutenant Carey hadn’t followed proper procedures.

“But your best bet, honestly, is to pin all this on Kolepp. I don’t know how you’d feel about that.”

Lexi shook her head. “Uh-uh. No way. I can’t do that to Carl.”

“Why not? The guy’s in Paraguay, totally cashed out. He’s happy as a clam.”

“Even so…”

“Think about it. The feds can’t touch him. And what does Kolepp need to go back for? Nothing. He’s not married. His company’s gone.”

Lexi thought about it. Mark did have a point.

“Or…” The lawyer took another sip of his wine. “You could take a page out of Kolepp’s book yourself.”

Lexi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean forget going home. Settle down here. Chill out. Retire. Make a life. I’m assuming you have offshore funds you can access?”

“Naturally.”

“So, why not? There are worse places.”

Lexi gazed out over the tranquil blue ocean. Twin sailboats bobbed on the horizon, bathed in pale butter-yellow sunlight. She thought about Gabe, still naked and asleep in their bed. And baby Maxine, content and sleepy in the housekeeper’s arms. I love them so much. For a moment happiness flooded through her.

Then she thought about Eve Blackwell. Happiness turned to rage.

“No. I have to go back.”

“Okay.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “It’s up to you. But, you know, even if I get you off the fraud charge, you’re going to have a ton of civil suits against you. All your U.S. assets will be considered fair game. You’ll be declared bankrupt. Gabe, too. I can’t protect you from any of that.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be poor, Lexi. You don’t know how to be poor.”

“I know. But Kruger-Brent…”

Mark said brutally: “Kruger-Brent is finished, Lexi. I’m sorry. But you have to face reality. There’s no way back from this. Not this time.”

You’re wrong. There’s a way. There’s always a way.

Later that afternoon, Lexi walked alone along the beach. The seawater was as warm as a bath between her toes. A gentle breeze blew the hair back from her face.

It’s so peaceful here.

Gabe and Maxi were back at the villa. Mark Hambly was already on a plane, on his way back to New York to face the music on Lexi’s behalf. It wouldn’t be long before word got out that she and Gabe were in the Maldives. When that happened, the sleepy island of Ihuru would turn into a war zone. The paparazzi would attack by land, air and sea. Lexi would retreat to the seclusion of the villa. It was beautiful, but it was still a prison. She had to savor her freedom while it lasted.

Sitting down on the sand, she unfolded a piece of paper. She’d only received it two days earlier, but already Eve’s letter was worn thin with use. Now Lexi read it again for the last time. Her aunt’s beautiful handwritten Palmer script leaped off the page.

425 5th Avenue

New York

October 12, 2025

Dear Alexandra,

May I call you Alexandra? Of course I may. If you’re reading this, I have already gone to join my dear sister, your mother, in hell. The dead may do as they please.

They all think I’m mad. But I’m not. I’m the only one in this family who has kept her head. I should have been running Kruger-Brent from the start. Then none of this would have happened.

I know what you’ve done. I know everything. You were right to get rid of my son. Max was a fool, weak like his father. But did you really think you would get away with bankrupting my company? You’re a thief, Alexandra. You stole from shareholders and you stole from me, just like your mother. Thieves must be punished.

The police are on their way. I’ve sent them another letter, detailing everything. You have no way out, Alexandra. Not this time. You and your friend Mr. Kolepp can reminisce about what might have been from the comfort of your jail cells. Jail is worse than you can possibly imagine, Alexandra. Take it from someone who knows.

May God curse you and your children, as He cursed me and mine.

Good-bye, Alexandra.

Your loving aunt,

Eve

With the letter still in her hands, fluttering in the tropical breeze, Lexi hitched up her skirt and waded into the ocean. She walked far enough for the water to reach the top of her thighs. Then slowly, deliberately, she began tearing the paper into tiny pieces, scattering them on the waves like confetti.

Good-bye, Aunt Eve.

Good riddance.

I may not have won the game. Not yet. But I’m still here. Still playing.

For Eve Blackwell, it was all over.

But for Lexi Templeton, the game went on.