POV: Cassian
I have Vivienne by the throat before anyone can stop me.
"You PLANNED this?" I snarl, squeezing harder. "You manipulated us? Made Brielle think we didn't want her?"
Vivienne claws at my hands, gasping. "I—did you—a favor—"
"Cassian, let her go," Thane says coldly. "We need answers first. Then you can kill her."
I want to argue. Want to squeeze until she stops breathing. But he's right.
I release her. She collapses, coughing.
"Talk," Thane commands. "Everything. Now."
Vivienne rubs her throat, glaring at me. "Fine. You want the truth? I've been in love with you for eight years, Thane. EIGHT YEARS. And you never looked at me once. Only her. Always her."
"So you destroyed her life?" Dorian's voice is quiet. Deadly. "Because you're jealous?"
"I freed you!" Vivienne snaps. "Don't you get it? You were all trapped. Obligated to marry someone you didn't even want. I heard you complaining about it for months! So I helped. Got you drunk, asked the right questions, made sure she overheard. Now she's gone and you're all free to marry whoever you actually want."
I stare at her in disbelief. "You really think we didn't want her?"
"You said it yourselves!"
"We were LYING!" I roar. "We were trying to protect her from being used as a business deal! We all love her, you psychotic—"
"Wait." Vivienne blinks. "You all... love her?"
"Yes," Thane says flatly.
"All three of you?"
"YES!" we shout together.
Vivienne's face goes white. Then red. Then she starts laughing. Hysterical, broken laughter.
"Oh my God. Oh my GOD. I ruined everything for nothing? She thinks you don't want her, and you all—" She can't even finish. She's laughing too hard.
I lunge for her again, but Thane catches my arm.
"Focus," he says sharply. "We need information. Vivienne, you said you know she's going to Milan. How?"
Vivienne wipes her eyes, still giggling. "I hacked her phone. Been tracking her for weeks. Wanted to know what she was planning for the gala. I saw her book the flight this morning. Saw her research about changing her name to Elle Winters."
"You HACKED her phone?" Dorian looks murderous.
"Oh, please. Like you three haven't been tracking her for years."
She's not wrong. I have access to all her social media. Thane put a GPS on her phone after the kidnapping attempt. Dorian monitors her medical records.
We're all kind of obsessed with her.
"She turned off her phone," Thane says. "The tracker's dead."
"But I can still see her laptop activity," Vivienne admits. "She's at a cafe in Milan right now. Looking up lawyers."
My heart stops. "Lawyers? Why?"
"Probably to help with her new identity. She's serious about disappearing."
"Give me the address," Thane demands.
"Why should I?"
Thane steps closer. His voice drops to a whisper that makes even me nervous. "Because if you don't, I will destroy you. Your family. Your reputation. Everything you've ever cared about. I will erase you from existence. Do you understand?"
Vivienne swallows hard. Nods. She pulls out her phone and sends the address.
"Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you live."
Vivienne runs.
The three of us stand there in the garden where everything went wrong.
"Milan," I say finally. "We go to Milan."
"And say what?" Dorian asks quietly. "Sorry we made you think we didn't want you? By the way, we're all in love with you, please choose one of us?"
"We don't make her choose," Thane says firmly. "We just tell her the truth. All of it. Then we let HER decide what happens next."
I pull out my phone and start texting my assistant. "I'll have my jet ready in an hour."
"Make it thirty minutes," Thane counters. "Every second we wait, she's building walls we might never get through."
"We'll get through them," I insist. Because the alternative—losing Brielle forever—isn't an option.
My phone rings. Unknown number. I almost ignore it, but something makes me answer.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Hale?" A woman's voice. Professional. Cold. "This is Adriana Moretti from Moretti Fashion House in Milan. I'm calling about your recent campaign proposal."
"I didn't submit any—"
"The one about collaborating with our new consultant, Elle Winters?"
My heart stops. "Elle Winters?"
"Yes. She mentioned you might be interested in working together. Quite talented, that one. We just hired her this morning."
I mouth "Brielle" to Thane and Dorian. They freeze.
"Can you... can you tell me more about her?" I ask carefully.
"Well, she's American. Young. Brilliant business mind. Completely transformed our failing division in under three hours. We're lucky to have her."
Three hours. She's been in Milan for less than twelve hours and already has a job. That's my girl.
Wait. Not my girl. Not anymore. Maybe never was.
"Mr. Hale? Are you still there?"
"Yes. Sorry. When does Ms. Winters start officially?"
"She already has. In fact, she's in a meeting right now. Would you like me to pass along a message?"
My mind races. If I say yes, she'll know we found her. She'll run again. But if I don't...
"No message," I say finally. "But I'll be in Milan tomorrow. I'd love to meet her then."
"Wonderful. I'll let her know."
I hang up and turn to the others. "She has a job. She's already working. She's not just running—she's rebuilding."
"That's Brielle," Dorian says softly. "Always ten steps ahead."
"Not this time," Thane says grimly. "This time, we're catching up. Nikolai!"
His head of security appears from nowhere. How does he do that?
"Track every flight Brielle SaintClair took in the last twelve hours. I want hotel records, credit card transactions, everything. And find out everything you can about Moretti Fashion House."
"Already on it, sir." Nikolai holds up his tablet. "She used her grandmother's emergency fund. Fifty million dollars. First-class ticket to Milan. Landed eight hours ago. No hotel—probably staying somewhere off the grid."
"How do we find someone who doesn't want to be found?" I ask.
"We become people she wants to find," Dorian says quietly. "We don't hunt her. We let her come to us."
"That could take months," Thane snaps.
"Or we could show up at her new job and demand she listen," I suggest.
"And scare her off completely?" Dorian shakes his head. "No. We need to be smart about this."
My phone buzzes. Text from my assistant: Jet ready in 20 minutes. Where to?
I'm about to type "Milan" when another text comes through.
This one's from an unknown number: I know you're planning to come after me. Don't. I'm not the girl you knew anymore. That Brielle died the night she heard the truth. Elle Winters doesn't need you. Elle Winters doesn't need anyone. If you care about me at all, you'll let me go. - B
I show the text to Thane and Dorian.
"She knows we're coming," Dorian whispers.
"How?" Thane demands.
Then my blood runs cold. "Vivienne. She must have warned her."
"That backstabbing—" Thane's already dialing. "Nikolai, find Vivienne. Now."
But I'm staring at the text. At those words: If you care about me at all, you'll let me go.
"She's testing us," I realize. "She thinks if we really cared, we wouldn't follow her."
"That's insane," Thane says. "If we really care, we HAVE to follow her."
"Not to her." Dorian's voice is sad. "To her, love means letting her be free. Because that's what we taught her last night—that we wanted freedom from her."
We're all quiet for a moment.
Then Thane straightens his shoulders. "I don't care what she thinks she wants. I'm going to Milan. I'm finding her. And I'm telling her the truth even if I have to hire a skywriter to do it."
"Count me in," I say immediately.
"Me too," Dorian adds.
"Then it's settled." Thane heads for his car. "We leave in fifteen minutes. Pack for a week. This might take time."
I'm about to follow when my phone buzzes again.
Another unknown number. Another text.
But this one makes my heart stop:
You're making a mistake coming after her. Elle Winters isn't who you think she is. Neither was Brielle. Want to know what your precious princess has been hiding? Meet me at Gate 47, JFK Airport, in one hour. Come alone. Don't tell Thane or Dorian. Trust me—you'll want to hear this before you fly halfway around the world for a lie. - A Friend
I stare at the message.
What could Brielle possibly be hiding? She's the most honest person I know.
But what if I'm wrong? What if there's more to her disappearance than we think?
"Cassian!" Thane calls. "You coming or what?"
I look at him. At Dorian. My best friends. The men I'm apparently competing with for the same woman's heart.
Do I tell them about this text? Or do I go alone and find out what secrets Brielle's been keeping?
"Yeah," I call back, pocketing my phone. "I'm coming."
But first, I have a detour to make.