Although she had several accountants on her payroll, Aurore periodically made unannounced visits to the jewelry stores and pawn shops she owned to look over the books. What people tended to ignore when faced with her golden arms and legs was that her brain worked better than any machine. She was good with numbers and possessed a fantastic memory. No one cheated on her twice. Her bodyguards helped, but it wasn’t just the manpower. Making it to her blacklist represented the equivalent of business suicide. If word got out the Golden Lady refused to work with you—and she would make sure it did—all doors closed in your face. People trusted her judgment when it came to business. She had created a small, comfortable empire for herself, so whenever things ran out of the known pattern, she became suspicious. “Shaz, why are people bringing in so many spare parts all of the sudden?” Aurore asked the older lady sitting behind the counter. The woman briefly raised her eyes from the trashy novel she was reading, gave a disinterested shrug, and returned her attention to the book.
