Pier.I stare at Helia. Speechless. He’s wearing that look again. The one I hate. Calm, detached, smug. “She’s Miss Hills.” He repeats. “She’s related to the Grevelstokes. Jon. Eveliina.”I know the Grevekstokes damn it. And now everything comes rushing back.The Hills’ daughter. The one accused of killing Helia’s father. Her father. I remember reading about it in the news. The girl who supposedly committed suicide.It makes sense now.Perhaps escaped to France, Corte, to avoid the authorities. The silence. The surgeries. The scar. I remember the mugshot. Young, wild-eyed, frightened. Nothing like the poised woman standing beside me.Then Mum’s words echo in my head. ‘When I asked she be investigated, everything about her was either erased or securely encrypted.’Of course. It was Helia. He did it. He hid her. He erased her. He played everyone. Especially me.I look at him. “How…How did you hide her? How come her records didn’t show?”I don’t even know why I ask. Because I know H
Helia.I stare at her. Alexa.Her hair is shorter now, a quiet bob framing her sharp face. Her altered face. She’s changed. More refined. More poised. Her eyes, icy as ever. The scar, unmistakable, does more to highlight her beauty than mar it.But I know it’s her. Not just from the photo of her that I received. No. I’d know her anywhere. Because she still has that look unique to only her. Innocent look. I remember the first night we collided. The Hills’ Christmas gala. The overturned dessert table. Her chocolate-stained dress. Her wide, frightened eyes. Icy, just like now.“Helia…” She breathes. “What are you doing here?”Her voice is different now. Deeper. Measured. No longer the trembling girl from two years ago. She’s grown into a woman. A beautiful one. Not that she wasn’t before. I saw her beauty even then in the interrogation room, when I handed her the fake papers. In the car, when I drove her away.But my heart back then was hardened. Weighed down by duty. By guilt. B
Alexa (Prudence)Seven days. Seven whole days without a single word from Pier.I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t focus on work.‘Prudence, you don’t look good.’ My supervisor observed a few days ago. Of course I didn’t. How could I? I was a wreck inside. Torn apart by the storm of secrets and regret. My mind couldn’t stay still long enough to sketch a single coherent design.‘I approve these designs, Prudence. But you need to focus,’ she had said, then offered gently, ‘Take a few days off. Work from home. Resume properly on Monday.’I didn’t argue. I simply nodded. Quietly. My world was splintered by truths left unsaid, by lies I didn’t even mean to tell.“I’m so sorry.” I cry now, clinging to Pier like he’s the only thing tying me to this moment. “I should’ve told you the truth. You’re the only truth I’ve had in years.”His arms wrap tightly around me. I hold him tighter. Not wanting to let him go.I’m ready. Ready to talk. To tell him everything
Alexa (Prudence)I stare at Pier, unblinking. My words replay in my head. We just stare at each other.“You just spoke of your family members in the present,” he says, voice cold, cautious. “But your file states you’re an orphan.”My breath catches. I just stare. “You just talked about having Barney’s Chocolates fresh from the store every morning. But how can you, when you’re from San Francisco and Barney’s is exclusive to New York?”Hearing him say that, the air leaves my lungs all at once. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. We stare at each other in silence, and suddenly, it’s suffocating.“Talk, Prudence. Are you, or are you not, an orphan?” His voice rises.I stay quiet. He palms his face, turns away, hands on his neck. When he turns back, his eyes are hard.“By any chance, are you from San Francisco?” He asks again.I try. I really do. But I can’t bring myself to answer. There’s too much at stake. If I tell him the truth, that I’m Alexa, what if he believes I did it? That I
Alexa (Prudence)Corte, Corsica, FranceSaturday, 5th July. Four days later…Evening.I’m at Cherie’s Burger, sketching new designs for work. It’s been only four days since I started at Flirt, and I already have real assignments. I’ve been tasked with creating gowns for five celebrities, movie stars, attending a major film award next month. Just a month to design something grand. Something unforgettable.I’m one of the designers now. I have my own team.A smile curves on my lips as I remember the tension in the interview room. The way Marc Jean, Pier’s friend, looked at me. He led the recruitment panel. I still can’t place that expression on his face. Disgust? Maybe. Then he gave me a challenge: design a dress from scratch in three hours.I did. It was back breaking work. Tension exuding through out my entire body. And when I finished, the look on his face shifted. Shock. Then something like respect. He said he had no idea I could pull it off. Thought I was just a girl that seducer h
Pier.Tuesday, 1st July. Next day. Evening.It’s 6 p.m. I’m in my New York apartment, my office, specifically, reviewing projections Helia just sent over. The proposal for the affiliate program looks promising. I’m glad he sees the value in it too. Once the documents are drawn, I’ll be done here. Then I can return to Prudence.I miss her. Terribly.I picked up a few things for her. Chocolates from Barneys, a little taste of the city. Her file says she’s from San Francisco, but there’s little else on her past. Just “Martha” listed under employment. No family. Nothing personal. I need to know more. Maybe tonight, at dinner with the Ripples, I’ll bring her up. Maybe Helia knows something.Two hours later, we’re seated. Helia, Hulio, and me. Helia’s talking about the proposal, about how great it’ll be for Grevelstokes and Blackwood College. I should be listening, but my attention’s on Hulio. He’s glued to his phone, barely present. Every now and then, he catches me watching him. But says