CHASE
I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. Head pounding. Mouth dry. Body aching.
And a text from Helena: What did you do?
I check the news. See the photos. Me and Vivian kissing at her bachelorette party. The headlines brutal. The damage complete.
I text back: Told the truth. Finally.
Helena: You destroyed her engagement. Her reputation. Everything. The curse is accelerating because of your honesty.
Me: Good. Let it accelerate. Let everything burn. At least we're burning honestly.
Helena: You're out of control. The final stage is here. I'm coming over.
I don't respond. Just stare at the photos. At Vivian kissing me. At the moment we both gave in. At the truth finally spoken.
Worth it. Whatever happens next. Whatever the curse demands. Worth it.
My penthouse door opens. Helena has a key. Always has. Walks in without knocking.
"You look terrible," she says. Not sympathetic. Just observational.
"I feel terrible. Tequila and truth don't mix well."
