Chapter 2

Kiva’s POV

After I hung up with Papa, I made one more call—to my investment manager. “I need you to pull my investment from Caelen’s casino,” I paused. “All of it.”

“Yes, Miss Crowe,” he replied without hesitation. “The full withdrawal will be finalized by Friday. By then, your funds—which currently make up over sixty percent of Caelen Casino’s active cash flow—will be fully returned to your account.”

Sixty percent. I smiled at the thought. Caelen’s casino ran mostly on cash. Strip that away, and there’d be no business left to run.

Once the paperwork was done, I called the hotel and had my room upgraded. If I was going to stay another four days, I wasn’t spending them in the cheap little suite Caelen had booked for me.

I moved into the villa’s most exclusive luxury suite—three times the price, ten times the comfort. The hotel even assigned me a personal maid and a private house manager. For the rest of the day, the manager wheeled me through the grounds like royalty.

“Miss Crowe,” the house manager said while he wheeled me at the beach, “may I suggest dining tonight at our finest restaurant? It overlooks both the sea and the beach. Very exclusive. Very private.”

I tilted my head. “Isn’t that the place that’s impossible to get into?”

I remembered Caelen arguing with someone over the phone back in New York—something about this exact restaurant. He’d been pushing hard for a reservation. At the time, I thought he was planning to propose to me. Why else would anyone drop triple the cost of a hotel room on one dinner?

“It is difficult to reserve,” the manager said, clearly pleased with himself. “But not for you, Miss Crowe. Or should I say… Miss Knox?”

He’d done his homework.

Most people knew me by my mother’s name, Crowe. Very few realized I was actually that Knox.

“Crowe is fine,” I said, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into his hand.

“Of course. As our most exclusive guest, Miss Crowe, we have one table held on standby—just for you.”

He wheeled me to the restaurant later, then excused himself, mentioning something about arranging a surprise for later.

The moment I entered, I saw the last people I wanted to see.

Caelen, Marnie—Caelen’s mother, and Samantha.

All three turned at once, staring like I was some creature that had wandered in by accident.

“Kiva?” Caelen stood abruptly, his voice rising. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I kept my tone light. “Dinner, of course.”

I ignored the tight looks from Marnie, the glare Samantha didn’t bother to hide, and made my way to the only open table.

I glanced over just in time to catch Caelen whispering something to Samantha. Her expression twisted.

“You said you took care of her,” she snapped, her voice rising. “Why is she even here? I thought this restaurant was exclusive.”

Then she turned her eyes to me—cold, judgmental. “If someone like her can get in, then what does that say about the rest of us?”

Caelen flushed, clearly scrambling to keep her calm. “Babe, don’t worry about her. Tonight’s about us, remember? We’re here to celebrate.”

Marnie, his mother, leaned in supportively. “That’s right, sweetheart. Don’t let her ruin the evening. Caelen, maybe you should talk to the staff—have her removed?”

Removed?

The ignorance of this family was almost comical. They were guests, same as me, and yet they carried themselves like they owned the place.

I didn’t say a word. I focused on my menu, made my order swiftly, and leaned back.

The calmer I remained, the more agitated Samantha seemed.

“Caelen!”

“I’m going,” he muttered, then got up and walked toward me.

He stopped at my side and bent down, voice low and tight. “How the hell did you get a pass into this place? You need to leave before you embarrass yourself.”

I pulled my arm free from his grip and met his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said evenly. “If you and your little fiancée can’t stand to see me here, you’re welcome to leave.”

“You—” Caelen clenched his jaw, lowering his voice. “Kiva, now isn’t the time to cause a scene. I told you—Samantha can help take care of you. If you upset her, no one wins.”

I said nothing.

Caelen turned to the waiter. “This woman isn’t with us. Please escort her back to her room. I reserved this restaurant tonight for my family.”

The waiter didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwell. Miss Crowe is one of our valued guests. She has every right to dine here.”

Realizing there was no way to remove me, Caelen shot me a warning look and returned to Samantha.

“Don’t worry about her, babe. Tonight’s about us.”

Samantha’s lips curled. She’d clearly heard what the waiter had just said. “Fine. It’s not like I’ve never done charity before. This will just be the first time I dine with someone I sponsor.”

The insult was deliberate and Samatha didn’t stop there.

“Look at how she eats,” she said when my food arrived. “Has she never been in a proper restaurant before? Caelen, where did your cousin come from—the countryside?”

I’d grown up around people like Samantha, people who mistook money for class. Anyone who knew my name—knew my family—would never dare speak to me like this.