"It really is Winter Lacy!"
Ruby Jordan whispered, her face pressed close to the high-definition security monitor in the foyer. Her eyes widened as she took in the image on the screen.
Standing under the soft glow of the porch lights was Winter Lacy. She was dressed to kill, wearing a floor-length crimson evening gown with a daringly low neckline that showcased her porcelain skin. A necklace featuring a deep green emerald—likely worth a small fortune—rested against her collarbone. Her hair was swept up in an intricate, regal bun, held in place by a jade hairpin.
In her hand, she cradled a bottle of wine like it was a holy relic.
"That's a bottle of Romanee-Conti," Ruby gasped. "I saw that vintage in a magazine. It costs at least thirty thousand dollars a bottle!"
Winter stood with the
