Colin demanded they run the card again. It failed. Then he offered another card. That failed too. “Sir,” the waiter finally said, “all linked cards have been cancelled or restricted.” Isabelle slowly removed the emerald necklace. The evening’s total had reached an astonishing $730,000, and suddenly Colin had no way to pay.

Across town, I sat at my father’s kitchen table watching fraud alerts explode across my phone. Attempt declined. Card restricted. Merchant: Halcyon House. Dad calmly poured coffee as though he’d expected every notification. Then he placed an old leather folder between us. “How many of those ten cards shared the same PIN?” he asked. My stomach dropped. For years I’d used my late mother’s birthday as the PIN on several accounts. I’d never told Colin, but he’d watched me enter it countless times. Dad opened the folder. “He didn’t need you to tell him, Natalie. He watched you.”