On my first night inside the $4.8 million Malibu beach house I bought with my own money, my mother-in-law called and said, “We’re moving in tomorrow, Marcus said it’s fine, and if you don’t like it, you can find somewhere else.”

Eleanor grabbed his arm.

“This is a setup. She’s trying to embarrass the family.”

“Mother, maybe we should—”

“No. I’m a gold sponsor. This is my night.”

The ballroom filled quickly. 800 of California’s most influential people, plus a live stream audience that would eventually reach 50,000. Eleanor made sure everyone knew about her “new beach house,” even showing photos she’d screenshot from the real estate listing.

At 7:30, the ceremony began. The association president took the stage.

“Tonight, we celebrate integrity in real estate. We’ll begin by recognizing our gold sponsors, whose generous contributions make our work possible.”

Eleanor pinned in her seat, adjusting her diamond necklace. She had no idea that three FBI agents were watching the live stream, waiting to see if she’d repeat her fraudulent claims publicly.

Victoria Sterling caught my eye from across the room and nodded. The show was about to begin.