Patrick's POVI was as hard as wood, fists clenched so tightly they were pounding nails into flesh. I churned with rage in my belly as I replayed the meeting over and over again—Giselle walking away with head held high in victory, brother lagging behind, leaving me panting for air in shame.Her self-satisfied, idiotic grin provoked another rage simmering below me to a boil. How the bloody hell had she managed it, then?Becky was sitting beside me, her hand on my arm, but I hardly even noticed. She was droning on about some inconsequential rubbish, no doubt attempting to soothe my wounded pride, but I was hearing nothing but Giselle. The woman I'd manipulated.The woman to whom I had made no vows.The woman who had just told me and the rest of mankind that she was everything. "Patrick, is something the matter?" Becky's hand rested on my chest. I barely looked at her. "Not now, Becky."She scowled, obviously irritated that I was not meeting her eyes, but before she could protest again,
Patrick's POVThe evening press oppressed me, stifling life from every action. The shame, the shock, the overwhelming realization that I was wedded to Giselle Von Howard—the heiress Von Howard—swirled my head.I needed to talk to her.I had to hear it from her own lips why she hid it from me, why she stayed behind my shadow when she could have occupied the highest pedestal.I shouldered through the partygoers, searching the opulent ballroom for visions of her.The air buzzed with gossip, eyes lingering on me, but I did not mind. I was not leaving there without laying eyes on Giselle.I pushed through to the VIP section where she had disappeared into, two enormous men in black suits standing in my way."I have to see Giselle," I insisted, trying to push past them.One of the guards, a giant, shifted hardly at all as he spoke. "I'm sorry, sir, but Miss Von Howard isn't seeing visitors." Miss Von Howard.The privilege hurt more sharply than I had expected. "She'll see me," I persisted. "I wa
Giselle's POVWhen I finally get into my room, the silence in the room was deafening, yet my mind was anything but quiet. Memories clashed over me like a relentless storm. Each one was sharp, vivid and mercilessly cruel. I could still see Patrick's face, twisted in the shock a s disbelief as her realized that the woman he had once dismissed as a nobody was the Von Howard's heiress. His pride had been shattered in front of those people and for the first time, he had been focused to acknowledge my worth. Good. He deserved it. I could picture his anger frustration as her tried for each me, only to be stopped by my father's guards. I imagined the humiliation that was burned through him when Nicholas ordered him to leave. I let out a bitter laugh and whispered to myself, "Serves him right." Patrick had thrown my love into the mud, treated me like a doormat, made me feel worthless, discarded me for another woman only to learn that I had already been someone out of his league. But I wasn't
Patrick's POVThe waiting room at the hospital was unusually still, with only the gentle tick of clock above the reception breaking the silence and the faraway, muted thrum of the nurses as they moved between the corridors, to and fro. The pungent scent of the antiseptic filled my lungs, but I barely noticed it. My mind was somewhere I was not. My eyes were glued to the doors of the emergency department, now shut behind Becky who had been swept inside a moment ago.I combed a hand through the matted hair, letting out a frustrated, deep breath. How had this happened?Becky had collapsed so quickly at the party, shouting out in agony. The raw terror that I experienced at the moment was complete. I had picked her up into my car, sped through red lights, and reached the hospital in a flash.And I was standing here with my mom and Debbie, the both of us steamrolled like I was, but for totally different reasons.I was praying to myself in my heart. Please. don't harm Becky. Not because I ca
Giselle's POVI was frozen in fear, my heart pounding against the walls of my ribcage as I gazed up at Nicholas. His freezing blue eyes held me captive, his jaw working."So, you're pregnant." His voice was a crack of thunder in my ears.I curl a protective hand over my belly, cradling the tiny life inside me. My throat tightened, and I staggered backwards into my bedroom.Nicholas followed me, his movements slow and graceful as he shut the door. The air around us was thick, oppressive. And then, in a dam-break flood of emotion, the tears I had held inside me for weeks brust free. I fell on the bed and wept deeply.Nicholas was beside me in an instant. His muscular massive arms folded me, pulling me into his chest. His warmth, his immovable solidity, it was so comforting. I grasped him, fist twisting in the material of his shirt as if he was the only anchor that stopped me from drowning in my sorrow."Shh...," He murmured, running his fingers through my hair. "You don't have to cry,
Patrick’s POVThe hospital lobby was suffocating. The sterile white walls, the quiet hum of machines, the murmurs of worried visitors all pressed down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake off.Becky was still in the ward, her condition uncertain. My mother and Debbie sat stiffly on the uncomfortable waiting chairs, their faces drawn with worry. I knew they expected me to sit with them, to wait out the storm, but I couldn’t.Not now.My phone had already vibrated five times in the last ten minutes. Each time, my assistant’s messages became more urgent. The financial reports were showing a catastrophic downturn. Hilton Group’s assets were vanishing overnight.I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and turned to my mother and sister.“Take care of Becky,” I said quickly. “I have an emergency at work.”Debbie frowned. “Patrick, what’s going on?”My mother crossed her arms. “What could possibly be more important than being here?”I exhaled sharply. “I don’t have time for this.”“Patrick!”
Giselle's POVI began making my descent down the stairs of our mansion, my heart racing at a speed far too reckless for me. My brother Nicholas had his arm slung around mine, his silent comfort holding me back from totally losing it."Hey, Just Dad," he breathed, noticing me stiffen. "It's alright. He loves you."I nodded with wonder, and we entered into the gilded gold room where my father held court at an enormous gilt table, flanked by the most powerful and rich individuals in the nation.There was money as far as one could see—the gold chandeliers from the ceiling, the diamond-rimmed glasses clinking, the butlers walking quietly among the crowd, handing out the topchampagne.The second that my father had spotted me, his entire face was drenched in a ray. From the flash of speed, he leapt clear out of the chair, shatteringly soundfully booming loudly above all noise."Ahh! Here she is!" he boomed loudly victoriously, glass wildly splintering crazily towards him. "My beautiful daug
Giselle's POVNicholas's arms still around me, his calm words still ringing in my ears as I tempered the frantic racing of my heart. The shame I had endured downstairs still churning my stomach, but at least I did not have to suffer it by myself.Nicholas his hand in my hair, palm up, panting. "Do better than this, Giselle," he panted. "You are a Von Howard, and don't forget that."I didn't have time to respond when the door creaked open.His dark form at the doorway hesitated, instinctively demanding attention. Lord Benjamin Von Howard, my father.His scowl contorted his face out of plumb, his blue eyes scanning the room. They brushed against me for a moment, and in his presence something unbent. Tension creeping into his eyes unbent, his face unbent again into easy adoration.His face wrinkled up into a grin of a smile, and he took three stiff steps closer, arms out."Oh, sweet, sweet baby girl!" he roared, strangling me in a bear hug.I blew a bubble of propriety around the cheap p
(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