Giselle's POVI slept that next morning better, my body still warm with the sinful bath that Nicholas and I had shared the night before. I felt peaceful for the first time in years. It was strange, the way something as ordinary as a shared moment with my brother had stilled the fears I'd hidden so deep.But in bed, staring up at the soft shaft of morning light that filtered through my curtains, the insistent thought crept into my mind. That odd feeling yesterday still lingered.Something wasn't right. I just didn't know what. I had decided to master the emotion and, instead, eagerly await the day I was going to meet the Miss World delegates to find out what my responsibility as a judge would be. It was something that excited me, something which I had longed for very long.When I dressed, I went downstairs expecting a quiet breakfast before I left. But to my complete surprise, when I walked into the large dining room, my dad was already sitting at the long wooden table.And he wasn't a
Patrick's POVThe drive to the Miss World registration bureau was longer than I'd expected, and the weight of my own paranoia made every moment seem like it took forever. Debbie, however, rode alongside me in the front seat, talking nineteen to the dozen."I still can't get over the fact that I did it," she said for apparently the hundredth time, scrolling on her phone. "Patrick, how many girls ever get to dream about this? This is huge!" I grinned involuntarily, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Sure, it's a big thing. But I just want to be sure that everything is alright for you."She arched an eyebrow. "Oh, here we go again. You're paranoid. Nothing is going to happen to me."I wished I could believe what she was saying. I really did. But my gut was telling me otherwise. Ever since that first of the strange phone calls--telling me I needed to marry Becky in a hurry, threatening Von Howard, and all the rest who were going to rebuild my business--I'd been living on pins and need
Patrick's POVI walked back and forth across the living room, my fists pushed through my hair, my head a mangled jumble of anger and fear. Becky's life hung in the balance, and I didn't know how to save her. Five million dollars. Where was I going to get that sort of money?I couldn't remove it from my business—not without financial disaster. The Hilton Group was already in the doldrums, and to withdraw at short notice would shake up the investors so that it would fold altogether.Patrick, we have to do something," my mother wept, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest as she sat on the couch. Her normally placid face was now etched with raw horror. "We can't just sit here and let those fiends carry Becky away.""I know, Mom," I growled. "But we need a plan. And right now, I don't have one.". My head pounded. I had attempted everything, and time was short. My phone rang again then. Unknown caller. I grabbed the phone on the table and brought it to my ear. "Who is this?"A low, muff
Giselle's POVI'd had enough. I'd been attempting for months to act like my father's secrets and lies didn't affect me. I'd convinced myself that I could just disregard them and focus on my baby. But I wasn't acting anymore. I was repulsed.Every time I saw my dad, I saw a stranger. The wealthy tycoon, the cunning businessman—was that all there was to it? A flesh-and-blood man who worked so hard at deceit and lies that he lost his family? I just couldn't do it anymore. I had to get out. I had to breathe."I need some space," I told him that morning, my voice icy. "I'm going on vacation."My father barely flinched. He just breathed out and rubbed his temples, like I'd said something trivial. "Giselle, come on. You don't have to go running off because you're upset."I laughed. "This isn't running. This is me choosing my sanity over your constant lying." His face became a glare. "I don't lie—" I cut him off. "Stop. Just stop. I don't want to hear it.".He took a deep breath, but I did no
Giselle's POV I woke up with a throbbing headache. There was moisture in the air, and I could smell the stench of sweat and something metallic, a metallic taste. My body ached from lying on the cold concrete floor, my wrist still bound by rough rope. All around me was dark, the single faint flickering light creating shadows that constantly danced on the walls I had no recollection of where I was. Then it all came rushing back.The shots. The masked men. The van. I had been kidnapped. I fought against swallowing the terror churning in my throat and tried to sit up, my body twisting in agony. In the corridor outside, I could discern a muttered series of voices—low, gravelly, impatiently insistent.I was not alone. The door creaked open, and two men walked in. One was muscle-bound, with tattoos slithering up his arms. The other was lean, his cold eyes looking at me like a predator."Rise and shine, princess," the tattooed one sneered. I looked at them. "What do you want?""Money," the le
Patrick's POVI scowled at the amber liquid churning in my glass, the acrid scent of whiskey mixing with the suffocating tension in my head. Victor's ultimatum still echoed in my mind."Marry Becky, or pay the ransom." I downed it, grimacing at the burn in my throat.It was madness. I wasn't ready to be married. Not like this. Not when I was still waiting to hear about a decision that would make or break it all—whether or not Giselle was pregnant with my child. But Becky's life hung in the balance.I swallowed, holding the glass tighter. Becky and I were lifelong friends. She was family. There had never been anything romantic between us, so why in the world did the devil himself so desperately require this marriage? What was he gaining from it?I frowned. This wasn't making any sense. My phone was still in my hand, and before I could even reach for it, there was a text on the screen. I half-watched it.And then, my heart was numb. BREAKING NEWS: Von Howard Empire heiress Giselle Von H
Giselle's POVThe rumble of the private plane was the only sound that filled the cabin as I stared blankly at the dry glass of water on the table in front of me. My body drained, I flagged, fatigue keeping me stuck like lead, but my mind would not quiet. There were too many things that swirled around in my head and would not be silenced. I was free.They'd let me go after my dad had paid an extortionate ransom. They'd let me go like I was just another business transaction. But it wasn't over—not by me. Not when I'd stood them down.And barely when I'd caught sight of one of them. Grace. A girl that I'd once stroll the school corridors with. A girl once that belonged to us.How did she end up here? I had paid them and her crew to leave me alone, but that did not in any way translate to safe. Once a person had crossed the point of no return to illegality, they struggled to reverse direction. And now, another complication had been added to my life.I winced and massaged my temples. Miss
Patrick's POVI sat in my office, swirling the whiskey around in my glass, watching the golden liquid rotate in the absence of light. In front of me, Sophia sat with an expressionless face, her long legs crossed, her prefectly manicured fingers tapping softly against the armrest of her chair.She had talked for the past ten minutes, but I was no longer listening. Not since getting that alert. My phone screen was still lit up, and my eyes were still locked on the title:BREAKING: Giselle Von Howard Released—Arrives in Miami via Private Jet. I breathed out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. She's out. Something didn't feel right, though.I turned the phone over in my hand, my head reeling with the facts. Twenty billion dollars. That's what it took him to set her free?That wasn't pocket change to the average person, but Victor? That guy didn't move for anything less than authority. So, why?I barely noticed the shift in Sophia's face until she leaned in, her words cutting thro
(Patrick's POV)The sun dipped low as I stood by the balcony door of the hotel suite, a wind in Miami's air brushing my face with whispers of destiny. I barely slept in the last two nights, and Giselle's silence was becoming too deafening. I checked my phone again, trying hard to call hers. Still busy.Becky had been quiet all morning. Too quiet. And I was too distracted to realize it. I just needed to hear Giselle, see her, know that she was alive."Patrick," my mother had tried to say a little while ago, trying to deflect the subject, "Becky's issue. she needs your help.""She needs my help because she fell trying to get my phone," I had answered, my voice colder than I intended it to be.Becky hadn't spoken to me since. And I hadn't spoken to her. I couldn't pretend, not with everything unraveling inside me.My ringing phone jolted me out of sleep. It was Debbie."Hey, Debbie," I said, already sensing the panic in her voice."Patrick, please. I need you to drive me to the contestan
Giselle's POVMy silence and Patrick's lingered behind us once we'd spoken. Not the type that creeps up and skinnies and tickles with anxiety, but instead a dense variety, filled by both parties and left untouched due to neither wishing to add any more bulk into the world. I had plopped on the couch, wrapped my legs tightly into my center, soft light from the lamp in the room casting limp shadow on the ceiling.He hadn't pushed. He hadn't insisted. That alone was reassuring and unnerving. Patrick was the one who always stepped back when I stepped back, and for some reason that always made me feel safer with him. But tonight I had wished he would have insisted—wished he would have pushed me to tell him everything I had kept locked inside.Because the truth was choking me.Victor had called me again.I didn't reply. I couldn't. His final message he ever sent just lingered in my inbox, unread: "You'll never be safe without me."He was right, at least—everything had felt unreal. Because I
Patrick's POVThe pounding waves on the beach was the raw, distant sound of the thunder. I was standing in front of the balcony of the suite, looking out over the ocean. The sky was a darker blue with an orange tint to it as the sun started to set. The peace of what I was seeing was such a contrast to the storm that raged inside of me.I had hoped that time would mend the gap between me and Giselle. But distance and silence could not remove the pain, the disillusion, or the deceptions that had built up between us. I had hoped that if I came here, if I was merely there, I could mend everything.But even then, after I'd made the reconciliation gesture, part of me was like walking on glass.I hadn't spoken to Giselle in reality since we'd talked on the beach. She'd retreated again into her silence, and this wall was there between us. One I wasn't sure I could climb.The ring of my phone reminded me of what was real. It was Grace on the phone."Patrick," her voice grated across the phone.
Giselle's POVThe ocean breeze swept over my hotel room floor-to-ceiling sheer flowing curtains, stroking my skin with the softness of silk. I was standing at the glass, arms crossed, looking out toward the horizon where the sky was dancing with the waves. Miami was another type of wildness—noisy and restive. But I was weary of twinkly lights and further cacophony of applause.My phone went quiet once more. No calls. No texts. Patrick hadn't called or texted me since that strange message he'd sent two nights before—the one where his voice broke, like he was holding something fragile and already letting it go.I wrapped my robe more securely around me and went to the dresser. My hair smelled of vanilla and gardenias, my skin still warm from the bath I'd indulged in a little while ago. Today was meant to be peaceful, but this ache was in my breast. As if something was waking up, something was moving. and I wasn't prepared."Ma'am," one of my guards knocked on the door, entering. "Miss G
Giselle's POVI couldn't breathe.Not because my practice corset was too tight—though it was stuck to me like a vice—because the dressing room walls kept closing in with every untexted moment, every unspoken one, every time I blinked and Patrick's face flashed before me in the darkness.He was there for me.I knew the moment he walked into the lobby. My father had eyes and ears everywhere, but even if he hadn't, I would have known. The air around me shifted. My heart shifted. My phone was in off mode when Becky called me, crying, accusingly, bewildered. I did not need the explanations. Not yet. My world had swerved too far from its axis. I had wished for silence to put it on a straight axis once more.But silence was treacherous. It betrayed things into me I did not want to know."Giselle," my assistant Sarah had called at the door. "Five minutes before last rehearsal. Ready?" "Coming," I had replied, rising from the velvet couch and regarding myself in the mirror.The woman in th
Patrick's POVI couldn't sleep.I reclined on the hotel bed looking up at the ceiling fan, its soft whirring mingling with the hum in my head. I was in Miami but felt more distant from all I ever knew. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows with dance motions on the wall. My phone was silent, face down on the nightstand.Giselle had yet to call me back.I rolled over on my side, pulling the comforter up over my chest like it could shield me from the shame crawling all over my body. Why wasn't she answering? Why wasn't her number still open? Dozens of questions ran through my mind—had something happened to her? Or was she just. done with me?Becky's face remembered, scowling in anger when she pilfered my phone from off my person earlier. How she crumpled. The terror in the shriek she let out. The crying, the trembling of her hands laid over her belly. And I? I had taken a step back. Like a coward.I groaned and sat up straight, running my hand through my hair. I needed some air
I woke up to the soothing whizz of sea waves on the windowpane, sea wind seeping through the almost-closed curtains. My body felt heavy, as if stuck with a sticky of laziness for days. I rolled over and threw my arm over to the bedside table where my phone rested. Missed calls and unread messages streamed before me.Patrick had been phoning me again.I cursed, sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I'd been staying away from him, not that I wasn't, but because my brain was in turmoil. My heart was a battleground, past and present, duty and desire.A knocking on the door to break me out of my trance."Come in," I roared, throwing the bed back.Nicholas came in, quieter than normal. "You did not call last night. I was frightened."I fabricated a small smile, attempting to bleed some of the tension from the moment. "I was tired. The party wore me out more than I anticipated."He crossed his arms, his eyes pinning me as he nailed me with them. "Or you were avoiding Patrick?"I winced
I awoke to the quiet thrum of the air conditioner, cold blankets drawn high around me as if wrapping me in some kind of protection. Body had recovered and caught its breath, but mind was assailed with memories, questions, and theinine whine that somethings still hung over in the distance, threatening to unravel.I yawned, my whole body hurting from the strain of the last two days, and stretched out to grab my phone. No call from Patrick. That was not expected. Half of me had been expecting him to call a hundred times at least, but nothing. Perhaps he finally gave up. Or perhaps something else was preoccupying him.A gentle knock on my door brought me back to reality."Come on in," I said, shoulders propped against the headboard.Nicholas slid open the door and grinned, impossibly so, after all these years we'd spent living in secret. He placed a tray of breakfast on the nightstand and sat at the foot of my bed."How's it going?" he asked, never once looking away from mine."Good," I a
Giselle's POVThe city sounds outside my hotel room window hummed like a distant lullaby as I shivered on the chaise lounge, staring at my phone. The screen was white, no call, no message. Patrick had called no one, nor did I call him. Half of me wanted to know where we were, but the other half didn't care.I breathed deeply and placed the phone on my side. Miss World was the following day, and I still had some of those last-minute things to sort out. However, my mind was preoccupied by a maelstrom of endless questions—Patrick, Victor, something somewhere in the background.As I was about to hoist myself up, there was a soft knock on the door of my suite. My throat was parched. Was it security? Had something occurred? I walked on my feet, clutching around me the silk robe that I had wrapped around my naked body, and crept up to the door."Who is it?" I asked."It's Nicholas," my brother's reassuringly familiar voice said over the telephone. I swung open the door at once and flung it w