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
Giselle's eyes POVThe sun had streamed in behind the open drapes, its heat penetrating my skin as I stirred in bed. The new bedding, lavender-scented, was twisted on me, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I had slept. I blinked a few times to clear my vision, and then recalled where I was Nicholas' bedroom.His aftershave lingered in the air, and I moved my head to catch sight of a glass of water and fruit platter on the bedside table. Typical Nicholas. Always thinking of me. I breathed out slowly. The past two days had been one enormous blur, my kidnapping, rescue, deception by my own father, and now this upcoming Miss World contest. But for the moment at least, I was safe.I was going to sit up when the door slowly opened and my brother Nicholas entered, concern and relief etched on his face."Good morning, sleeping beauty," he teased, resting against the doorframe. I smiled mockingly. "Good morning, pesky brother." He smiled and sprang up onto the bed next to me
Giselle's POVI twisted a strand of loose hair back and forth in my fingers as I sat opposite Nicholas in the living room, sipping my green tea. Morning had been spent in stillness, an isolation between the chaos of yesterday and the mad rush of today. Still, there was one thing that had to be done before I went off to Miami—I had a fitting with my designer.I tapped my fingernails on the china tea cup before I finally said something."Nicholas, I have to go for my fitting today."His head snapped away from his phone, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "At last! You're meeting your designer? At last!"I chuckled at his enthusiasm. "I have to be absolutely flawless for Miss World, don't I?""Absolutely," he grinned. "And I'm going with you."I raised an eyebrow. "You? To a dress fitting?""Oh, of course," he said, sweeping his hand dramatically to his chest. "As your terrific big brother, great as I am, it's my job to make you look wonderful."I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Alright. Let's g
Giselle's POVI woke up to the gentle trill of birds chirping outside my window, the sun shining through lace curtains. I stretched softly, inhaling quietly, my own body aching from the intense swim competition last night with Nicholas.Last night had been a ridiculous, laugh-filled night—exactly what I'd needed to drive the hurricane that had been raging in my life out of my mind. But as I rolled over and looked up at the ceiling, reality slowly filtered back into my brain. The Miss World pageant in Miami in two days.The kidnappers were bribed, but the knowledge that Grace—my old classmate—was one of them still lingered at the back of my head. What was she doing there? And what could I possibly do for her and the rest so that they would never go back to being criminals?I let out a deep sigh and rolled over, picking up my phone. My notifications were filled to capacity, news outlets still buzzing with news of my abduction and release, messages from work and friends asking to call me
Patrick's POVI stood in front of my closet, unfolding a fresh new navy-blue business suit, bracing myself for it to be an all-dayer. Miami was looming in front of me, and this trip wasn't a vacation, it was a time needed for me to clear my head and figure out what in the world was going on in my life.My mother was also visiting, and that complicated things. She had been nagging me about Becky since Victor spoke of the marriage offer. She thought it was the best thing, but I did not know. The whole episode was a trap in my mind.I adjusted my tie and gazed at myself in the mirror. I was decent. But inside my head, my head was a battlefield.As I was to head out and retrieve my suitcase, the door to my room creaked open."Patrick," a weak voice whispered.I froze and turned around, my heart racing. Becky was leaning in the doorway, pale and weak, her trembling arms clutched around the doorframe so she would not fall."Becky!" I hurried over to her side as she collapsed. I did not hesi
Giselle's POVNo sooner had the private plane touched down in Miami than I knew my life would never be the same again. There was that pounding thrill of excitement wherever you went, but of anything, it was that dazzling burst of bursts of flashbulb lights from photo crews that whirred round and round in my head.Stepping out of the plane, a storm of paparazzi and reporters engulfed the VIP terminal, their cameras clicking left and right like a turbulent storm."Giselle! Over here!""How does it feel to be finally free, Miss Von Howard?""Giselle, are you still engaged to Patrick?""Did you pay your ransom yourself?"The questions assaulted me, but I never so much as gave them a second glance. I smoothed my midnight-blue designer jumpsuit instead, the silk falling over my curves in stunning folds. My makeup was flawless, my hair falling in stunning waves. If they wanted to make an entrance, I'd enter.I saw my brother Nicholas walking beside me, his gaze sweeping the crowd. The bodygua
Patrick's POVI sat in the train cabin, gazing out over the smeared landscape racing past, my mind weighed down with thoughts. This was not exactly how I had planned to arrive in Miami. I was supposed to fly in, first class, trouble-free. Now, I was jammed into a cramped train seat, my mom beside me, squirming uncomfortably.Ugh, Patrick, this is ridiculous," she muttered, pushing her designer suns up her nose. "How did you go and get us to miss our flight? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for a Von Harrington to be seen on public transport?"I rubbed my temples. "Mother, we're almost there. Just relax." She snorted. "Relax? In this. Sheep's hell? Not in your lifetime.".I tuned out her whining, my mind still on Becky. When she'd come to my apartment that morning, she'd been gaunt, half-sagging over standing, lips pale, eyes sunken.I had pulled her into a room, cradling her in my arms, something I hadn't done in so long. I remembered how vulnerable she actually was behind a
Patrick's POVI set my phone down, my mind reeling. Sophia's message had not been a threat, but a warning. And I knew one thing about Sophia: she never uttered anything she did not mean.I took a deep breath, my fingers wrapping around the edge of the table. The Miami sunlight glinted off the silverware, but I was not in the mood to notice the view. My appetite had left.What was the wrong decision?Did she never intend on marrying Becky? Was it always Giselle from the start? Or was something more in the works?I was too confused, and too short on answers.A Familiar Face in MiamiI had bought lunch and stepped out of the restaurant into the sweltering Miami heat, settling on my sunglasses. My mother had headed off to her hotel, so I had a little respite from her badgering.I needed a drink, a strategy—a cover-up to explain this disaster.But I hadn't time to react when I caught sight of someone on the street.Victor.He stood by a black SUV, arms folded, sneer on his lips. He was acc
(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