Giselle's POV I sat at my window side, staring at the light of the city flashing on and off in the distance. The wind blew in from the half open window, filling me with the scent of rain. My mind jumble, thought bumping into each other like waves on the shore.Victor's dinner words lingered in my head. "You are better than this, Giselle. I can provide you with the life you want, the safety you need."For the first time in so long, I thought about it. Gladly, could I begin anew with him?Victor had been my love, my man forever. Until everything went wrong. Until he did.But human beings do change, don't they? Maybe he wasn't that gentleman anymore. Maybe it was my turn to shape my fate, be done once and for all with all the misery Patrick had sent me adrift toward. I was snapped out of my daydream."Enter."Nicholas entered, his face serious. My brother was not a man to be easily ruffled, but something tonight was disturbing his eyes.He closed the door on his way in and breathed hea
Patrick's POVI got up and watched Giselle leave the boardroom, heels clacking on the marble floor, shoulders squared in resolve. The urge to call out to her, to get her to listen, to get her to understand—hit then. She was answering her phone call before I could take a step.She did not even blink in responding, her voice not quite as annoying when she was talking to whoever it was she was on the phone with. Her lips were pursed into a sour smile as she was talking to whoever it was she was calling.Who was she calling on the phone? I gripped my fists.Was she calling Victor? The asshole had been lurking around her for the last few days like a vulture. I clenched my teeth and leaned back further in the chair, rubbing my head.This was not where I wanted it to be headed.I had tried to get Giselle to leave me at arm's length. I had wanted her to be as pained as I was hurting. But for some reason, I was getting angry. A drawn-out breath escaped from my lips.I was still facing the dir
Giselle's POVThe evening wind swept past me as I leaned against the wall of the hallway, phone against my ear. Chandeliers along the Von Howard building cast rays of golden light in warm, high-contrast relief to the rest of what was happening outside. Flashbulb cameras, blinding light, whispered rumors of scandal.For a moment, however, I had one and only one thing I cared about, the sound of victor's voice at the other end of the line " I just wanted to check if you were all okay," he said to me, his smooth voice wrapping around me like the damp heat of a summer's day, thick with a feeling of comfort I hadn't realized I was hungry for." "You were kinda tense this afternoon."I rested my weight on the pillar and breathed deeply. "You can say that. It's been.a day.""That bad?" Victor smiled. "I can take you out again, you know. Unwind you. I promise no drama this time."I laughed, shaking my head. "You promise that, but whenever we go out, something always happens.""Right. But I'l
Patrick's POVI'd squeezed it the moment I'd walked in, the sharp sting of premeditated partying. Bags of food were strewn all over in dumped heaps on the middle of the living room floor, nice packages with silk bows draped over them, and a gorgeous wedding dress reclining on the coffee table like it was some trophy to be admired.Becky, Debbie, and my mom smiled hopefully, their cheeks flushing pink with anticipation as they stared at their new find."Look! There he is!" Becky grinned, holding the dress against her body. "Patrick, come see! Isn't he handsome?"I barely even glanced at it. I wasn't feeling this. I couldn't play along. I spun on my heel and went up the stairs, not heeding their voices behind me."Becky! Debbie?" my mother's voice boomed."Where are you running off to?" my mother's voice cried out behind me.Becky, after all, was no girl to turn tail and run from a scrap. "At least tell me what you think of the dress!" she pleaded. But I wouldn't. I said nothing. I coul
Giselle's POVThe bite of the evening air on my face as I sat on the balcony of my father's mansion, gazing out over the beautifully manicured gardens below. The sky was painted in rich oranges and purples, and for a moment, I let myself indulge in the peace of it all. I needed peace. I needed it.But Victor was there beside me. And that was enough to destroy my good conscience."You know," he breathed, his voice as smooth as ever, "I couldn't help but be blown away by how dashing you're looking tonight." I gave him a glare, a brow crunched. "Dashing?"He laughed. "Strong, confident… irresistible." I managed to wrestle a small laugh out of myself, shaking my head. "You always knew how to charm your way in, Victor."He stepped closer, smile still set on his face. "I mean every word, Giselle. You were always a stunning woman, but now… there's something in you. Something in your eyes. You're more beautiful." I detected a flutter of vanity but suppressed it. I did know Victor.His words n
Giselle's POVI was sitting in my father's library, the gentle glow of the fireplace creating rippling shadows that danced upon the polished mahogany desk. The events of the evening remained a jumbled haze in my head—Victor's brazenness, Nicholas's inappropriate appearance, and the crushing weight of Patrick's betrayal hanging about my heart as if an unstated presence.Something else also scared me.A nostalgic feeling. A recollection in the furthest corners of my mind, only to resurrect itself like a specter under the cover of darkness.I navigated around the rim of my brimming, unemptied glass of wine, my thoughts drifting back to something that my father had mentioned moments ago at the party."This trade show isn't just an affair, Giselle. It's a vehicle to exerting your power."Power. Influence. Control. These were the things my dad loved. The things I learned from him.And yet, tonight wasn't the same. Something was different. I had just grabbed my phone when the door slowly sw
Giselle's POVMy father's confession hung like an anvil on my chest. My mother was killed, and I had lied all these years. I stood in the study, the walls throwing dark shadows from the faint light, my heart pounding against my chest. Nicholas was just as stunned as I was , his fist clenched at his sides "How long did you plan on keeping this from us?I wept. My father, a man of steel in all other situations, looked. weary. "As long as needed, Giselle. You and Nicholas were children. There was no need to involve you in this."I laughed, my head bobbing. "No reason? Do you hear yourself? You led us to think our mother was murdered by mistake and the people who killed her got away with it." Nicholas moved a step forward, his voice indignant. "Who are they, Dad? You said she was murdered because she found out something. Who were they?"My father paused. "I don't know exactly. But I have some guesses."My stomach tightened. "Then tell us."My father breathed and walked across the room to
Patrick's POVFatigue from a day at work clung to me like a second skin as I walked home. My mind was already racing with problems—the loss of my business achievement, the investors closing in on me, and now Von Howard's specter.I'd only removed my tie when Becky confronted me, emotionless face. "We have to talk," she whispered. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Can it wait, Becky? I've just gotten back, and.. ""No," she snapped. "It's serious." I was shocked.I watched her, observing how she chewed her nails. Becky never chewed her nails. She strode into the room as if she owned the place, always.Whatever this was, something was amiss. "What is it?" I insisted, folding my arms.She took a deep breath. "Someone called today.""Who?""I don't know," she burst out in a hurry. "The call was blocked. But they told me, if you want to get your firm back, if you want to have Von Howard's leniency restored—then you must marry me. Immediately." There followed an awkward silence
(Giselle's POV)I was wide awake. The hotel room was too quiet, too quiet for the chaos of thoughts churning in my brain. The ceiling fan creaked pointlessly above me, creating shadow performances on the cream-colored walls. I flipped onto my side, the silk sheets sticking, and stared at the bright face of my phone. No message. No call.Patrick hadn't called in days.I was predestined to be consumed by the Miss World pageant of beauty—the repetitious rehearsal runs, dress fittings, and television spots. I was the face everyone longed to see, the name on every billboard, the woman who had it all. It was all only illusion for me today, though, a sparkly diversion from hurt set on clinging.I winced and sat up, wrapping a robe around me. The door to the balcony was ajar, and the smell of sea breeze wafted in. I went out barefoot, arms wrapped around myself as cold tiles tiptoed acros
(Giselle's POV)I was wide awake. The hotel room was too quiet, too quiet for the chaos of thoughts churning in my brain. The ceiling fan creaked pointlessly above me, creating shadow performances on the cream-colored walls. I flipped onto my side, the silk sheets sticking, and stared at the bright face of my phone. No message. No call.Patrick hadn't called in days.I was predestined to be consumed by the Miss World pageant of beauty—the repetitious rehearsal runs, dress fittings, and television spots. I was the face everyone longed to see, the name on every billboard, the woman who had it all. It was all only illusion for me today, though, a sparkly diversion from hurt set on clinging.I winced and sat up, wrapping a robe around me. The door to the balcony was ajar, and the smell of sea breeze wafted in. I went out barefoot, arms wrapped around myself as cold tiles tiptoed across my toes. Miami city lights glowed far away, a city of dreams and deception."Why are you doing this, Pat
(Patrick's POV)Sunlight fought with the thick cream curtains over the hotel window. I leaned against the window, phone and coffee in hand. Nothing. No call. No missed call. Still nothing from Giselle. The silence shattered as oppressive as ever, weighing on my chest like a boulder.Becky slept on the couch in the living room. She had insisted on being near me, but I had not been talkative with her. I had not been capable of fighting or of explaining. My mind was with Giselle—her vanishing, uncertainty, question marks that fill every moment of consciousness.I flipped through my album, where I stopped on a picture of Giselle taken at her last public appearance. She had worn that stunning blue dress, the one that shimmered as moonlight on rippling water. I remembered her laughter that evening, how it stayed in my head even when the paparazzi had stopped snapping pictures.A knock at the door broke my concentration. I opened it to Clara, my assistant, who stood in the doorway with a fol
(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