LOGINLeon's POV I did not say anything for a second.I had not heard that name out of James' mouth in almost two years. The last time he had said it he had been standing in the doorway of my office telling me, in his careful lawyer's voice, that she had turned up at the reception desk again and that security had asked her to leave."Dora," I said."Dora.""What did she want.""To see you.""At midnight.""At midnight on Christmas, specifically. She said she had a message for you. She said it was time-sensitive. She would not tell me what it was.""How did she get your number.""That," James said, "is the question I would like answered."I stood up from the chair. The apartment was very quiet. Down the hall, under the door of the second bedroom, I could see a thin strip of lamplight."Where is she.""She said she was at a hotel. She would not tell me which one.""Did she sound sober.""She sounded coached."That stopped me. I pressed my thumb against the bridge of my nose and tried to thin
Leon's POV I drove us to the apartment on the fourteenth floor.It was not my main residence and it was not the mansion. It was a two-bedroom I kept for the kind of guest I needed to put somewhere discreet, the kind of client who wanted to sign a contract on a Sunday morning without any photographs. The building had a doorman who did not keep records and a lift that opened directly into the apartment with a key I kept on the ring with my car.Anastasia did not say anything on the drive.She had her bag on her lap and both hands on the handle of it, and she was looking out at the city sliding past the passenger window. She had the small framed photograph she had taken from her bedside tucked flat against the inside of the bag with her palm against the glass.I did not try to talk to her. I had tried to talk to her at the bakery and all it had done was get us both into the car. I would try again when we got out.I pulled into the underground garage and parked in my own space. The lift
Anastasia's POV I did not answer the message.I walked into my kitchen and I turned off the light. Then I walked back into my front room and I turned off that light too. I stood in the dark with the phone in my hand and I listened.The old building settled. The fridge hummed. Downstairs, somewhere out on the street, a car engine ticked over.I thought about Eleanor on the floor of her drawing room this afternoon. I thought about the way her head had dropped forward, that fraction of an inch that had told me something was wrong before the rest of her caught up. I thought about her lying in that hospital bed holding my hand, asking me to promise her things, telling me about her heart.I thought about Lucas standing on the street below me with a phone in his hand, deciding, one message at a time, how much of my life he was going to spend tonight on.The anger that came up through my chest was quieter than I expected. It did not feel like heat. It felt like something cold and very clean,
Anastasia's POV I read the message three times.Each time, the letters stayed the same. Each time, my brain tried to rearrange them into a sentence that was less bad.I sat down on the arm of the sofa because standing was not working.My first thought was *he is lying*. Lucas lied when he had nothing to gain. He lied about little things, about where he had been for lunch, about why he was late. He would lie about something like this to shake me. He had sent me texts like this before. He had said he knew things about Leon. He had said he knew things about my accounts. Most of them had turned out to be nothing.My second thought was *but he did not know the word engagement*.He had not used that word in any of the earlier messages. He had said *your new boyfriend*. He had said *your billionaire*. He had never said *fake*. He had never said *engagement*.Someone had told him something.I thought about Jennifer. I thought about the way she had been quiet for weeks after Lucas and I separ
Anastasia's POV Leon drove me back to Sweet Seasons at a quarter past ten that night.Eleanor had been asleep for an hour by then. Margaret had come to the hospital with a small overnight bag and a book from the library, and had settled herself in a chair beside the bed with the particular competence of a woman who had sat up with Eleanor Hart before. James had gone home at nine. The corridor had emptied out the way corridors do when visiting hours end, and I had stood in the doorway of Eleanor's room for a minute watching her breathe before I turned away.Leon had not spoken much since I had gone back into Eleanor's room.He had come in a while later with coffee for both of us. He had sat in the chair across from mine. He had answered Eleanor when she opened her eyes and asked him about the car, about the house, about whether Margaret had remembered the right book. He had been entirely present. He had also been entirely elsewhere. I had watched him do both at once and I had not know
LeonI stood in the doorway with the plastic cup in my hand.I had walked the whole way down the corridor telling myself I was just bringing water. Just water. A small, simple thing to do. But the moment the door swung open and I saw Anastasia's face, I knew I had walked into the end of a sentence I was not supposed to hear.She had the look of a person who had been reaching for something and had just pulled her hand back."I thought you might want some water," I said again, because the first time I said it I was not sure if I had said it out loud or only in my head.Eleanor's expression stayed warm. "Thank you, dear. Come in."I came in. I set the cup on the small table beside the bed. I pulled over a chair that scraped once on the floor and sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Anastasia, close enough to see her hands folded in her lap, far enough to pretend I had not noticed how still they were."You two were in the middle of something," I said.Anastasia's eyes came up to
Anastasia's POV I drove aimlessly around town after listening to the voicemail. My hands would not stop shaking on the steering wheel. Every red light felt like torture because it gave me time to think and thinking was the last thing I wanted to do right now.I called my best friend Sara three tim
Anastasia's POVI saw it before it happened.Eleanor was standing at the drawing room sideboard, telling the housekeeper where to put a vase. She had been moving it back and forth all day, an inch this way, an inch that way, and I was sitting on the arm of the sofa watching her with the particular
Anastasia's POV For a second, nobody moved.Lucas stood there with coffee dripping down his face and chest, his mouth hanging open in shock. Jennifer froze on the bed with the sheet clutched to her chest and her eyes went wide. I stared at my empty hand, at the coffee cup that had slipped from my
Anastasia's POV I heard them before I saw them.The sounds coming from my bedroom made my stomach drop and I stood frozen in the hallway of my own apartment. I was holding a box of gingerbread cookies in one hand and a cup of latte in the other, listening to sounds of very intense moans coming fro







