For exactly thirty seconds, Aria allowed herself to panic. She envisioned the orange jumpsuit. She wondered if the Sinclair lawyers could get her placed in a minimum-security facility with decent thread counts. She mentally drafted a letter to Damien's grandfather, which was mostly just the word 'Oops' written in cursive.
Then, the thirty seconds were up.
"Okay," Aria whispered to the empty kitchen, rolling her shoulders back. "If you're going to do the crime, you might as well control the narrative."
She grabbed Bella's glittery iPhone from the marble island. She opened the hidden folder, selected the alleyway video of Lucas and the redhead, and tapped the share icon.
AirDrop to: Aria's iPhone.
Her personal phone pinged. She accepted the transfer.
Aria watched the little blue circle fill up. The moment it completed, she exhaled a sharp breath of satisfaction. She opened her own hidden, password-protected gallery.
She now possessed the Holy Trinity of Blackmail:
