LOGINLiam's POV I answer on the third ring."Talia.""Finally." Her voice is light. Warm. The voice she uses when she has already decided the mood of the conversation before it begins. "You've been impossible to reach.""I've been busy.""With what?"There it is.The old me would have answered without hearing the angle of the question. The old me would have said meetings or the merger or nothing important and given her exactly enough information to build the rest of it herself.The current me hears the question underneath the question."Work," I say."Work where?""Does it matter?""It matters if I'm trying to plan around you.""You are not planning around me. You are asking me where I am."There is a pause after that, a small pause and she recovered quickly."Liam. Don't make this difficult.""I am not making anything difficult. You asked a question and I replied.""You didn't answer it.""Correct."Another pause, longer this time. I can hear her adjusting. I can hear the specific quiet
Emma's POV We are at the Jardin des Plantes by twelve fifteen.Ace immediately becomes the tour guide.He has been to this garden precisely three times in his life and he has no accurate information about any of it, but accuracy has never mattered to Ace, and he takes Julian's hand without asking and leads him from tree to tree, explaining each one with the confident inaccuracy of a small person who has decided that inventing facts is more efficient than acquiring them.Julian listens to every one.He nods at the appropriate moments.He asks follow-up questions.He does not correct a single fact.When Ace informs him, with total conviction, that the tree they are standing under is called le arbre du grandpère and produces apples that only grow on Sundays, Julian nods gravely and asks whether Sunday apples taste different from other apples.Ace considers this for a long moment."They taste like Sunday," he says finally."Ah," Julian replies. "That makes sense."Grey is walking three p
Emma's POV Julian arrives at eleven on Saturday morning.He has been over before, but never during the day, and never when all three children are awake, and never on a Saturday, which is the day I have historically declined all invitations from all people who are not my mother because Saturday belongs to us and I have said this out loud enough times that it has calcified into a rule not even Adèle challenges.Julian is not challenging it.He is participating in it.That is a distinction I did not know existed until he made it, and he made it by asking me on Wednesday whether he could come with us to the Jardin des Plantes because he had been meaning to take his nephew there for a year and thought it might be nice to do a trial run with people who had already vetted the terrain.The way he phrased it made me laugh.The way he waited for my answer without pressuring me made me say yes.Ace answers the door.I did not know Ace was going to answer the door. I was in the kitchen wrestling
Liam's POVMarcus arrives at the George V at four in the afternoon.He does not call ahead. He does not need to. Marcus has been my assistant for eleven years and there is a specific rhythm to the way he moves when he is bringing me something he does not want to send electronically, and I have known since that evening I gave him certain instructions that whenever the rhythm arrived, it would arrive without warning.I open the door.He is carrying a leather folder under his arm.Not a large folder. That is the first thing I notice. Whatever is inside it is not thick. Not the volume of paper you would expect from an eight month investigation carried out through three private contractors in two countries, and my first thought, walking back into the suite in front of him, is that the folder is small because there was less to find than we feared.My second thought, arriving a beat later, is that the folder is small because Marcus is very good at his job.He closes the door behind him.He do
Emma's POVJulian calls me at seven forty-two.I am at the kitchen counter with a glass of wine I have not touched, and the children are in the living room with Adèle doing the wind-down that happens before bath, and I am staring at my phone the way you stare at something you have been trying not to stare at for two hours.It rings.I answer on the first ring."He came?" "Yes.""How long was he there?" "Less than twenty minutes.""That is shorter than I expected.""There was not very much to say. Are you home?""Yes.""Are the children up?""For another hour.""Can I come by after they are asleep?" I look at the wine.I look at the doorway to the living room where I can hear Ace explaining something to Adèle in his loud carrying voice and Grey saying no in the particular way Grey says no, which is not a refusal but a correction."You can.""Nine thirty?""Nine thirty is fine." "Emma.""Yes?" "He did not do what you thought he would do."I close my eyes."What did he do?" "I will
Liam's POVJulian Beaumont's office is small.That is the first thing I notice when I walk in, and it is not what I expected. I have spent the past two days constructing this man in my head as someone who occupies the kind of space I occupy, glass and steel and the quiet arrogance of a corner office on the top floor of a building he owns, and instead I am standing in a third-floor office on Rue de Miromesnil that smells faintly of old wood and coffee, with photographs of his family's factory on the walls and stacks of fabric samples on a table by the window.He does not stand up when I come in.That is the second thing I notice.Every man I have ever met in a professional context has stood when I entered a room. Julian Beaumont does not. He looks up from his desk, he acknowledges me with a small polite nod, and he gestures to the chair opposite him, and he waits.I sit."Mr. Beaumont.""Mr. Carson.""Thank you for seeing me.""You said it did not concern our businesses. I was curious w
Emma's POVI am at Cara's apartment. She has gone to stay with a friend of hers so that I can have some solo space. My mother arrives at two in the afternoon with an overnight bag, a casserole dish that smells like something that can fix most things, and the expression of a woman who has been wait
Liam's POVShe is gone by Thursday.Not just her things. Her.The apartment feels different without Emma in it and I cannot explain why in any way that would satisfy me if I try, so I do not try.I stand in the bedroom doorway and look at the cleared nightstand, the empty hooks behind the bathroom
Emma's POVThe guest room door is slightly open.It is always slightly open. Liam never fully closes doors he considers temporarily his, like he is leaving himself an exit route in every room he occupies, which honestly tracks.I push it open and stand in the doorway for a moment.It smells like hi
Emma's POVI do not sleep.I lie in that bed doing what I have quietly mastered over the past fourteen months... existing in complete stillness while approximately nine thousand things happen loudly inside my chest.At six forty three I get up because lying there waiting for the other shoe to drop







