CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kade hadn't wanted to attend the party.
The gala was one of those obligatory events—old money, old names, people who smiled too much and listened too little. Investors. Board members. Appearances that had to be maintained, no matter how hollow they felt.
Vivienne insisted.
"You can't keep avoiding the public," she'd said over the phone. "People are already talking."
Talking.
That word had followed him all week.
So Kade went.
The venue was a restored mansion overlooking the river, lights glowing warmly against the night sky. Classical music drifted through the air as guests mingled in expensive suits and gowns, champagne flowing like water.
Vivienne arrived late.
As always.
She swept into the room in a silver dress that clung to her like liquid, her confidence unmistakable. Heads turned. Whispers followed. Vivienne Laurent knew how to command attention.
She looped her arm through Kade's like it was instinct.
"There," she murmured. "See? Perfect."
Kade forced a polite smile.
Throughout the night, he played his role—cordial, distant, attentive where necessary. Vivienne floated beside him, laughing too loudly, touching his arm just a bit too often. To anyone watching, they looked like a powerful couple.
To Kade, it felt like a performance he was tired of rehearsing.
At some point, he excused himself to take a call. Business. Always business. When he returned, Vivienne was gone.
He scanned the room.
Not unusual. Vivienne liked to be seen. Liked to circulate.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Something tightened in his chest—not jealousy, but irritation. He didn't like unpredictability. He didn't like games.
He stepped out onto the terrace, hoping for fresh air.
That was when he saw her.
Vivienne stood near the far end of the garden, partially hidden by tall hedges. Her back was to him, one hand gripping the lapel of a man's jacket. The man leaned in close, his face buried in her neck.
Then she kissed him.
Not a mistake.
Not an accident.
A slow, deliberate kiss.
Kade stopped breathing.
The world seemed to narrow to that single moment—the way her fingers curled into the man's hair, the intimacy of it, the ease. This wasn't new. This wasn't sudden.
This was practiced.
His chest didn't ache the way he thought it should.
Instead, something inside him went cold.
He stepped closer, his footsteps crunching softly against gravel.
Vivienne stiffened when she sensed him.
She pulled away sharply, her face draining of color when she saw Kade.
"Kade—"
The man beside her straightened, startled. "Uh—"
"You should go," Vivienne snapped at him.
The man hesitated, then muttered an apology and hurried away.
Silence fell.
Vivienne recovered quickly. Too quickly.
"This isn't what it looks like," she said.
Kade stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Then explain it."
She crossed her arms defensively. "You've been distant for weeks. You barely touch me. You barely talk to me. What did you expect?"
A humorless laugh escaped him. "So you cheated."
Her eyes flashed. "I was lonely."
"You were unfaithful."
"You pushed me to it," she shot back.
The accusation hung in the air, sharp and ugly.
Kade felt something snap—not violently, but cleanly. Like a rope finally cutting loose.
"I didn't push you into another man's arms," he said quietly.
"You emotionally abandoned me," Vivienne replied. "You chose your nanny over me. Your son over me."
"My son will always come first," Kade said coldly. "And Kiera is not the issue here."
Vivienne scoffed. "Of course she is. She's changed you. Made you soft. Distracted."
Kade stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't say her name like that."
Vivienne laughed bitterly. "You're in love with her."
The words landed between them.
Kade didn't answer immediately.
He didn't need to.
The truth was already written on his face.
Vivienne saw it—and something in her broke.
"So this is how it ends," she whispered. "You humiliate me publicly, then act shocked when I seek comfort elsewhere?"
"You humiliated yourself," he replied. "And you didn't seek comfort. You sought escape."
Her eyes filled with angry tears. "You're not innocent in this."
"No," he agreed. "But I didn't lie."
She stared at him, searching for something—regret, desperation, a plea.
There was none.
"You're blaming me," she said slowly. "After everything I've given up to be with you."
"What did you give up?" he asked. "Control?"
Her face hardened. "You'll regret this."
Kade exhaled slowly. "We're done, Vivienne."
The finality in his voice stunned her.
"You can't end this here," she said. "Not tonight. Not like this."
"I can," he replied. "And I am."
She shook her head in disbelief. "You think that girl will stay? That she won't leave once she realizes what you are?"
He stepped back. "Leave the party. I'll have my assistant arrange the rest."
Vivienne's composure shattered.
"This is your fault," she hissed. "If you hadn't hired her—"
"Stop," Kade said sharply. "This ends now."
She stared at him for a long moment, then turned and walked away, heels striking the stone path with venomous precision.
Kade stood alone in the garden, the music from inside muffled and distant.
He didn't feel relief.
He felt clarity.
Back at the penthouse, the lights were dim. The quiet felt welcoming instead of heavy.
Kiera sat on the couch, curled up with a book she hadn't been reading for the past ten minutes. She looked up when she heard the door.
"Kade?"
He paused when he saw her.
"You're back early," she said, sitting up.
"Yes."
She studied his face, noticing the tension, the tightness around his eyes. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then, "Vivienne and I are over."
Her breath caught. "What?"
"I caught her with another man," he said simply. "She blamed me."
Kiera stood slowly, unsure what to say. "I'm… I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "Don't be. This was inevitable."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
There was silence.
Then Kiera said quietly, "That doesn't make it hurt less."
Kade looked at her, something raw flickering in his gaze. "No. But it makes it honest."
She took a tentative step closer. "You don't have to go through this alone."
The words echoed something he'd once said to her.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. "Stay."
It wasn't a command.
It was a request.
She nodded. "I'm here."
As they sat together in the quiet, no touching, no promises, Kade realized something undeniable.
The chapter with Vivienne hadn't ended because of betrayal.
It ended because he had finally stopped pretending.
And whatever came next—with Kiera, with Leo, with himself—would be built on truth.
Even if that truth was terrifying.