The school year's almost over, and Madison, Park, and Lexington Hamilton are ready to trade in their Birkin bags for bikinis. But before vacation comes work, and the triplets have plenty of it. Cleopatra, the newest, hottest, and most expensive club in Manhattan, is opening--and it just happens to also be Hamilton Holdings' latest business venture. The girls must throw the party to end all parties. But this is one opening the sisters won't soon forget. Before the night ends, the body of a classmate is found with a bloody wound on the side of his head. At first glance, the case appears to be open-and-shut. But the girls smell trouble. They know the murderer is still out there, and they're willing to bet their sizable inheritance that the police won't be able to unravel the mystery. Murder is so out, but until this crime is solved, it's arrivederci Italia. And the Hamilton sisters simply won't accept that as an option.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

She reached for her sunglasses.Madison Hamilton dug into her tan Triple Threat hobo bag and felt instantly relieved as she touched the smooth silk lining. After a harried morning that included a press conference and two final exams, she needed a little fabric pick-me-up. She also needed to hide the worry glowing in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was someone asking her why she looked so downright frightened.

She let her fingers skim through the bag for a few moments, the silk a cool kiss against her hot skin. It was like a shot of champagne straight to the veins. A feeling of serenity washed over her, but it was quickly eclipsed by the small note sitting on the table in front of her. She stared down at the perfect script and swallowed hard.

Please report to the principal's office at once.

Sighing, Madison snatched her sunglasses from the bag and slipped them on. Oliver Peoples couldn't be beat when it came to covering up. She lifted her face and glanced around the ornately furnished room. The student lounge at St. Cecilia's Prep was decorated lavishly in dark wood and Oriental rugs, in shiny plasma screens and marble countertops. Its four windows overlooked the medieval courtyard, but a thick trail of ivy wound over the glass panes, blocking out the bright June sun. The long shadows that fell across the floor didn't matter: sunglasses were a priority when it came time to make the walk down the fifth-floor corridor that led to the principal's office.

Thankfully, the student lounge was fairly empty so late in the afternoon. Madison shot a glance at Jessica Paderman, who was sitting at one of the mahogany desks beside the bookcase. Short, scrawny, and blessed with a mane of thick red hair, Jessica was the heiress to a huge pharmaceutical empire; she was a quiet, studious, timid girl who never got into any kind of trouble. Madison had spoken to her only a handful of times. There was no reason to suspect that Jessica knew about the note from the principal's office, so she let her gaze drift to the left side of the room, where Aaron Linney was snoozing fitfully on one of the plush love seats. The light snoring sound wafting through the air was typically Aaron. Also the heir to a sizeable fortune, Aaron had a habit of smoking too much weed and drooling onto his wrinkled white uniform shirts. Madison doubted he'd heard anything about the note either, or much else, for that matter.

Getting summoned to the principal's office wasn't really a big deal at St. Cecilia's Prep. The school had the wealthiest student body in the world, which left little room for disciplinary action or useless things like detention or suspension. Punishments were handed down, but they were rarely ever meted out. A single phone call from a disturbed parent usually swept a problem under the rug. And because a large chunk of the students were celebutantes with very public social lives, the nuns who staffed the school couldn't really argue their holy points. Incidentally, these were the same nuns who received generous donations and academic endowments from parents eager to buy a little silence.

But Madison was still totally wrecked by the note. She had no idea why she was being called to the office of Reverend Mother Margaret John--the stern, disapproving principal. Madison was a stellar student. She was even an obedient student, smiling and nodding and dipping into a quick curtsy when the older teachers walked by her in the halls. More than once, she had volunteered her free time in the school's development office, giving her expert advice on fund-raising and special-event planning. Her black-and-red-checkered uniform was perfect: crisp shirt, navy blazer buttoned...