IÂ holed up in my apartment and ignored all my calls, texts, and emails for two whole days. They were relentlessâmy family, my friends, the media. Some meant well, others less so. Regardless, I couldnât scrounge up the energy to face any of them.
The only time I interacted with the outside world was through my work with Alessandra, who thankfully kept our exchanges professional and didnât ask about the revelations. After the identity reveal, the tabloid continued publishing articles and rumors, most of which were blatant lies.
I went to rehab for a cocaine addiction (Iâd volunteered there during college). Iâd slept with previous employers to get hired (they fucking ). I had an orgy with an entire MLB team after the World Series a few years back (I served them during their celebratory night out and had round of drinks with them).
The claims were so ridiculous I dismissed them out of hand. If someone was gullible enough to think I had a secret orgy-induced love child stowed away in Canada, that was their problem.
However, the truths were much harder to swallow.
.
Nausea curdled my stomach.
I tucked one hand beneath my thigh and bounced my knee as Kai returned from his kitchen with two mugs of tea.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally neat hair was tousled, like heâd run his fingers through it one too many times. Tension bracketed his mouth and lined the broad planes of his shoulders.
My heart wrung itself at his obvious exhaustion.
Heâd returned to New York that afternoon and texted me asking to meet. It was the first time weâd spoken since the latest round of hits, which didnât bode well for us.
I accepted the tea in silence.
Kai sat next to me on the couch, his brows furrowed.
âHow are you doing?â he asked.
An embarrassing wave of emotion crested at the sound of his voice. Heâd been gone for less than a week, but it felt like a lifetime.
âIâm okay.â I let out a weak laugh. âI became famous while you were gone. Celebrity takes its toll.â
He didnât smile at my lame attempt at a joke. âIâm dealing with Black. The will retract its stories.â
My forced humor slipped. âBut not the one about my family,â I said quietly. âThat oneâs true.â
A muscle flexed in his jaw. âNo. Not that one.â He set his drink on the coffee table and rubbed a hand over his face. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
âBecause Iâ¦â I faltered. âI donât know. Iâve kept it a secret for so long that it didnât even cross my mind to say anything. I know it seems like a silly thing to hide, but my family is private. The past week must be killing them.â
Guilt and shame bubbled in an unsettling stew in my stomach. âWhen I first moved to New York, I was pretty wild, and I didnât want my actions to reflect poorly on them. If people knew who I was, I wouldâve been all over the gossip sites. I also swore I wouldnât rely on my familyâs name and money to make my way, and I havenât. Some people might think Iâm stupid for not taking advantage of what I had, but I didnât want to be one of those rich kids who lived off their parentsâ wealth without anything.â
My mother had kept our personal lives out of the press for decades. Even Felix, my most high-profile brother, focused on his work in interviews. I wanted to explore the city and just without worrying about sullying the family name, and I didnât want people to treat me differently because I was an heiress.
No scrutiny, no expectations, no pressure.
It workedâ¦until it didnât.
âDid anyone know before the piece?â Kai asked, his face unreadable.
âViv and Sloane.â I curled my hands around my mug and took solace in the warmth. âThey found out organically when my mother dropped by for a surprise visit a few years ago. Sloane recognized her. Parker knew too since she ran my pre-employment background check, but she promised not to say anything.â
My trust fund was both a blessing and a curse. I didnât have access to it yet; it would kick in if and when I âsettledâ into a career I loved, as determined by my mother and Gabriel. If I was still floating from job to job by the time I turned thirty, I forfeited the money to charity.
Theoretically, it was nice knowing I had money to fall back on. In reality, the age stipulation amplified the pressure. I tried not to think too much about it because when I did, I couldnât breathe.
It wasnât even about the trust fund as much as it was about the symbolism. If I lost it, it would mean I had failed, and failing when every door was open to me felt like a special kind of hell.
âI spoke to your brother when I was in California.â
Kaiâs admission snapped me out of my spiraling self-pity.
My head jerked up. â
â
I listened with mounting disbelief and anger as he explained what happened, from Rohan Mishraâs ultimatum to Gabrielâs appearance at the bar.
No wonder he looked so stressed. The past few days had been as shitty to him as they had been to me.
âHe had no right,â I fumed. âHe had absolutely right to ambush you like that.â
âHeâs your brother. Heâs protective,â Kai said mildly.
Protective? Gabriel had better learn to protect himself because I was going to strangle him with one of those stupid silk ties he loved so much.
âHe also mentioned someone named Easton.â Kaiâs gaze remained steady while my blood solidified into ice. âWho is that?â
My heart pounded in my ears.
Forget strangulation. That was too good for my brother. I was going to make him watch while I shredded every suit in his closet with garden shears before suffocating him alive with the scraps.
A bitter taste welled in my throat. My first instinct was to lie and say I didnât know anyone named Easton, but I was tired of living in the shadow of what happened. Iâd let that asshole dictate too much of my life for too long. It was time to let go of the past, once and for all.
âEaston is my ex. The last man I was with before you and the reason I didnât date anyone for two years.â The bitterness spilled into my chest and stomach. âI met him at a bar. I wasnât working that night, just having fun and meeting new people. I was by myself since Sloane and Vivian were both out of town, and when he approached me, I thought he was perfect. Smart, good-looking, successful.â
Kaiâs eyes darkened, but he remained silent while I talked.
âOur relationship took off quickly. Within two weeks of meeting, he was taking me on weekend getaways and buying me all these expensive gifts. I thought I loved him, and I was so blinded by my infatuation that I didnât pick up on the red flags that are so clear in hindsight. Like the way he only took me to remote places for our dates, or how I never met his friends and co-workers because he wanted me âall to himselfâ for a while longer.â I grimaced at my younger selfâs naivety. âHe spun his excuses into romantic intentions when the truth was so simple. He had a wife and two kids in Connecticut.â
A bitter sound, half laugh and half sob, scored my throat. âWhat a cliché, right? The proverbial married cheater with the family stashed away in the suburbs. But that wasnât the worst part. The worst part was when said wife walked in on us in the middle of sex.â
Kai blanched.
âYeah, I know. She suspected he was having an affair, and she hired a private investigator to tail him. That night, sheâd had a little too much to drink. Got aggressive when the P.I. sent her husbandâs location to her. She showed up, screaming and crying. As you can imagine, I was horrified. I had no ideaâ¦â I forced oxygen past my tightening lungs. âEaston and his wife got into a huge argument. I tried to leave because my presence was making things worse, and that was when sheâ¦she took out a gun.â
I still remembered the cold glint of metal beneath the hotel lights. The bone-deep terror thatâd robbed me of breath and the cold, pervasive silence thatâd fallen over the room like a white sheet over a corpse.
âEaston and I both tried to talk her down, but she was too drunk and upset. The next thing I knew, he was trying to wrestle the gun away from her. It went off by accident, and itâ¦â My breathing shallowed.
.
âThe bullet somehow hit her. Sheâs alive, but sheâll never walk again.â The knowledge smashed through me like a wrecking ball, scattering jagged splinters and shattered grief through my chest. âShe didnâtâI mean, she shouldnât have taken out the gun, but she wasâ¦it wasnât her fault. Her husband cheated on her , and sheâs the one suffering for it.â
A sob racked my shoulders. I hadnât talked about it in so long. Even my friends didnât know the full truth of what happened. They just thought Iâd had a bad breakup with a cheating asshole.
Talking about it with Kai broke the dam on my emotions, and everythingâthe guilt, the anger, the horror, the shameârushed over me like a flood sweeping over a plain.
Kai engulfed me in his arms and held me as I cried. Easton, Valhalla, the , my manuscript deadlineâ¦every fuckup and mistake I made over the past few years. They poured out of me in a river of grief until I was hollow and aching.
âIt wasnât your fault,â he said quietly. âYou didnât know. You didnât make him cheat on her, and you didnât make her bring the gun. Youâre as much a victim of the situation as anyone else.â
âI know, but it like my fault.â I pulled back, my voice raw from my sobs. âI was so stupid. I shouldâve caught onâ¦â
âPeople like that are expert cheats. You were young, and he took advantage of that. It wasnât your fault,â Kai repeated firmly. He brushed a stray tear from my cheek. âWhat happened to him?â
âLast I heard, he moved to Chicago before his business went bankrupt and heâs estranged from his kids. Theyâre over eighteen now, and I donât think they ever forgave him for what happened with their mother.â
I didnât know where Easton was now. Hopefully rotting in the pits of hell.
âI see.â Kaiâs expression sent a dart of trepidation down my spine.
âDonât track him down,â I said. âI mean it. I just want to leave him in the past, and I donât want you to get in trouble.â
A hint of amusement bloomed at the corners of his mouth. âWhat do you think Iâm going to do to him if I do, hypothetically, track him down?â
âI donât know.â I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. âMaim him?â
âThatâs certainly crossed my mind,â Kai muttered. âIââ
The gentle chime of the doorbell interrupted him.
I stiffened again as Kai and I exchanged wary glances. We were lying low until the CEO voteâI snuck in through the buildingâs back entrance earlierâand an unexpected visit these days was more cause for alarm than celebration.
A shimmer of dread threaded through me as Kai answered the door. Had a tabloid reporter somehow gotten past security? Should I hide?
A faint murmur of voices leaked from the entryway. I couldnât hear his exact words, but Kaiâs surprised tone came through loud and clear.
He reentered the living room a minute later, his face grim.
My stomach dropped to the floor when I saw who was behind him. I suddenly wished it a tabloid reporter; that wouldâve been infinitely preferable to the newcomers.
Iâd never met them in person, but I recognized their pictures from the news.
Leonora and Abigail Young.
Kaiâs mother and sister.