The scream tore through the marble hallways of the Barrington estate like a blade.

“How DARE you refuse my order? Are you insane?”
Isabella Barrington—New York’s most feared socialite—stood trembling with rage, a skillet of boiling oil in her manicured hand.

Across from her, the new waitress, Naomi Carter, held a silver tray that shook slightly. Her dark skin glowed beneath the kitchen lights, her curls tucked neatly under her maid cap. She looked calm—too calm for someone being attacked by a powerful billionaire’s wife.

“My guest is to be served first. Not that old man!” Isabella hissed, pointing towards the dining room where her frail father-in-law, Arthur Barrington, waited for his meal.

Naomi’s voice was steady.
“With respect, ma’am… he’s diabetic. He hasn’t eaten in hours.”

The kitchen froze. Pots stopped rattling. No one breathed.

“You dare correct me?” Isabella’s voice cracked like a whip.
Then—rage exploding—she hurled the pan of scorching oil.

The scream that followed felt like it shook the earth.

Naomi collapsed, clutching her face, steam rising from her skin. But even as she fell, her hand pressed a tiny metallic chip to her chest—a micro-device no larger than a coin.

No one in the Barrington mansion knew the truth.

Naomi wasn’t a waitress.

She was Detective Naomi Carter, undercover agent for the National Crime Bureau, sent to expose the billion-dollar fraud and murder ring running through Barrington Global.

She had come for evidence.
She had come for justice.
She had come for Arthur, the old man everyone ignored, but who knew too much.

And for her brother, who disappeared after uncovering Barrington secrets.