Chapter eight

LIANA

It was my engagement party, and we were headed to the venue, and by we, I mean Penelope, Raymond, and me. 

I sat in the front seat, next to the driver, staring ahead, my hands curled tight in my lap. Raymond and Penelope were seated in the back, silent for most of the ride—until she opened her mouth.

“You do understand the weight of this marriage, don’t you?” Penelope said. “Everything is riding on tonight. The press. The families. Your future. Don’t ruin it.”

I looked up at the rearview mirror. My eyes met hers. I didn’t speak. Just let my gaze harden enough to make my silence louder than anything I could have said. She looked away first. I turned back to the road.

The world outside the car moved in slow motion. Buildings, trees, streetlamps. People walking past, smiling, unaware. It all looked the same. Normal. Calm. But nothing inside me felt normal. Was the blackmailer close?

My thoughts swirled for the hundredth time. Was it someone connected to Raymond? Someone trying to get back at him and using me to do it? But if so—what would they gain by forcing me to marry Logan Grey?

It didn’t make any sense.

I scanned every face we passed. Every street corner. Nothing stood out. There was no car following us. No strange figure. No clue. I was exhausted from thinking, yet I couldn’t stop.

The questions kept circling.

The pressure inside my chest felt heavier with each breath I took. I gripped my phone tightly, waiting. Hoping. Still no messages. No missed calls.

Whoever they were, they were watching. Listening. Waiting for me to slip.

I wasn’t going to slip.

If they wanted me to marry Logan, I would do it. If that was the cost of getting my daughter back, I’d wear the ring, say the vows, and smile for every camera in that damn ballroom.

But I’d also keep my eyes open. My fingers dug into my thigh.

God, I whispered in my head. I don’t ask for much. I just want her back. Please be on my side, just this once.

Raymond shifted in his seat, breaking the silence.

“Listen to your mother,” he said. I didn’t even turn. “She’s not my mother.”

A short silence. Then, flatly, “Listen to her. This marriage is a huge deal.”

I didn’t reply. There was nothing left to say that wouldn’t start a fight I didn’t have the energy to finish. Instead, I lifted my eyes to the rearview mirror and looked at him.

His face was unreadable. As always.

“How is my daughter?” I asked. My voice was calm. “I want to speak with her.”

He cleared his throat once. Then again.

“We’ll talk about that after the wedding,” he said. “When you’re Logan’s wife, I’ll let you speak to her.”

He looked at the mirror for a split second too long. Then down at his phone, clearing his throat.

Again. And again.

My stomach sank. Raymond never cleared his throat unless he was lying. He never looked away during a conversation unless he had something to hide. His habit of staring at his phone right after I brought her up—he didn’t even try to act normal. He doesn’t have her. My blood turned cold.

She’s in danger.

The car slowed, pulling up to the Grey estate—Valemont Hall. 

A red carpet stretched out from the arched entrance to the edge of the drive. On both sides, reporters stood, their cameras already raised. Penelope stepped out first, lifting the hem of her dress as if the carpet wasn’t worthy of her touch. Raymond followed. 

The door beside me stayed closed. I didn’t move.

My hand trembled on the inside door handle. My other clenched around my phone. I breathed. 

 In, one, two, three. Held it. Out, one, two, three. Again.

All eyes were about to be on me. Cameras. One more. In, one, two, three. Held it. Out, one, two, three. 

I stepped out.

The sound of camera shutters grew louder, sharper. The flashes blurred my vision. I walked forward slowly, the sharp tip of my heels catching in the carpet with each step.

All at once, the lenses turned away from me. The gasps and clicks shifted behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and froze.

A sleek black car had pulled up behind ours and the back door opened. Logan slid out.

He wasn’t in black today. A navy-blue suit clung to his frame, sharp and cut to perfection. A dark bow tie at his throat. Crisp shirt. For a second, I almost didn’t recognize him. But his eyes—his eyes were exactly the same. Cold. Sharp. Focused. They locked onto mine.

He moved closer, wheeling toward me. And just as he reached me, he leaned in slightly and mouthed the word, Smile. I did.

A fake one, stretched just enough to please the cameras, not enough to reach my eyes. Without another word, he turned, rolling himself forward.

I followed beside him, each step careful. 

Together, we moved past the doors of Valemont Hall. 

A couple stepped forward almost immediately after we entered the hall filled with people. 

“You must be Liana Dakota,” the lady said. “I’ve heard so much about you. You’re stunning in person.”

“Truly,” the man next to her which I assume was her husband added. “Logan’s a lucky man.”

Before I could say anything, Logan cut in. “Excuse us,” he said to me. Then to the couple, “We need to speak in private. This way.” He didn’t wait for a reply. Just turned and rolled ahead. The couple followed without a second glance at me. He was gone. Just like that.

I stood alone in a room full of people. Everyone was busy talking, sipping champagne. No one noticed me. No one tried to talk to me. That was fine. I preferred it.

I walked slowly, scanning the room. One of the side doors was open, leading outside. I stepped through it and found myself near the pool. The water was still, clear, too blue to be real. It almost looked peaceful. I moved closer, needing the quiet. Maybe I’d hear the call. 

I stood there, watching the surface ripple gently under the wind. My fingers wrapped around my phone. No notifications. No message. No call.

“You should be inside,” Penelope’s voice came from behind me. “You’re supposed to make us look good.”

I didn’t turn around. “Go back in.”

“I’m talking to you,” she said, stepping closer.

I faced her now, calm but tired. “Stop pretending you’re my mother. You’re barely three years older than me.” I said. 

Her jaw tightened.

“You don’t get to order me around. No matter how hard you try, you’ll always be the other woman. Nothing more.” I said, making sure I hit a nerve. 

Something shifted in her eyes. Her hand snapped out and shoved me hard in the chest. The edge of the pool disappeared from under my feet.

I fell into the pool. 

I couldn't swim. I kicked and thrashed, but my body didn’t rise. The pool was deeper than it looked. My hands reached up, legs moved, but it didn’t help. My dress dragged me down. My lungs burned. I tried again. And again.

Then everything slowed. The sounds faded. The light above became a blur. 

The water took control.