Chapter Four

The next morning, I stayed in bed, clutching the duvet to my chest, staring at the replica of my childhood dresser.

For a split second, I forgot where I was. I waited for the sound of my father’s heavy footsteps in the hallway and the smell of cheap coffee.

Then I saw the gold band on my finger. The Vane seal.

The weight of it was enough to bring the ceiling crashing down on my reality. I wasn't at home. I was in a ghost of it, forty-two stories above a city that didn't care if I lived or died.

A soft chime sounded at the door. It didn't wait for me to answer.

Sarah stepped in, carrying a tray of breakfast and a garment bag.

She was wearing her best friend smile,the one I had trusted for three years in Chicago. The one Julian had paid for.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" she chirped, seting the tray on the desk next to the laptop which was now dark and the feed of my father’s empty cell gone.

"Julian said you had a rough night. I brought your favorite: avocado toast and those weird green smoothies you love."

I looked at her, and for the first time, I didn't see a friend. I saw a handler.

"How much?" I asked, my voice raspy.

Sarah paused, a piece of toast halfway to the plate. "How much what, El?"

"How much does he pay you to pretend you like me?"

The mask didn't slip immediately. She was good.

She let out a little laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, honey, you’re still in shock. Julian told me about Mark showing up at the office. It’s okay to be paranoid, but don’t take it out on me."

I stood up, walking toward her until we were inches apart.

I grabbed her wrist,the one wearing a designer watch I’d never noticed before.

"He told me, Sarah. He told me you’ve been on the payroll since St. Jude’s. Every secret I told you about my father, every time I cried on your shoulder about being broke, you were just filing a report, weren't you?"

The silence stretched, thin and brittle. Slowly, the warmth drained from Sarah’s face. She didn't look guilty. She looked bored. She pulled her arm away and smoothed her skirt.

"He pays me more in a month than you made in a year , Elena," she said, her voice dropping the high-pitched cheer.

"And honestly? It wasn't that hard. You’re so desperate for someone to care about you that you practically hand over the keys to your soul."

She tossed the garment bag onto the bed.

"Julian wants you ready in twenty minutes. There’s a press conference for the Vane-Montgomery merger. You’re attending as his personal assistant."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"He said you’d say that." Sarah walked toward the door, stopping with her hand on the frame.

"He also said to remind you that the 'medical facility' your father is in has a very strict policy about unpaid bills. They tend to turn off the ventilators by noon."

The room went cold. "He wouldn't."

"He spent ten years building this, Elena. You really think he’s going to let a little thing like a heart monitor get in his way?" She checked her watch. "Nineteen minutes."

She left, the lock clicking behind her.

I dressed in a trance. The garment bag contained a dress that was the exact shade of emerald green I’d worn to prom the night I lost my necklace. It fit perfectly. He knew my measurements down to the millimeter.

When I stepped out into the main living area,

Julian was waiting. He was standing by the table, reading a tablet.

Arthur Vane was nowhere to be seen, but Vivienne was there, sitting on a white leather chair, nursing a cup of tea like it was poison.

Julian looked up. His eyes darkened as they traveled over the dress. For a second, a flash of something that looked like genuine hunger crossed his face.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

"You're a monster," I said, my voice flat.

"I'm a provider," he corrected. He walked over to me, ignoring Vivienne’s sharp intake of breath.

He reached out and adjusted the star necklace around my neck. "Your father’s vitals are stable, Elena. Keep it that way by smiling for the cameras."

"Julian, this is absurd," Vivienne snapped, standing up. HER diamonds clinked as she moved. "She’s a commoner. Bringing her to the merger announcement is an insult to my family."

"Your family is currently being sued by three different federal agencies, Vivienne," Julian said without looking at her. "My 'insult' is the only thing keeping your father out of prison. Now, get in the car."

Vivienne’s face turned a mottled red, but she silenced herself, casting a look at me that promised a slow and painful death.

We descended to the lobby in a private lift. As we stepped out into the atrium of Vane Enterprises, the flashbulbs began to pop. The press was a wall of noise and light.

Julian kept his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd. I kept my mask on the smile that told the world I was fine but inside, I was searching.

I looked for a way out, a sympathetic face, a security guard who wasn't wearing a Vane earpiece.

There were none.

We reached the podium. Julian took the mic, his voice smooth and commanding as he announced the partnership with Montgomery Holdings. He played the part of the visionary CEO perfectly. Vivienne stood at his side, the picture of a loyal fiancée.

I stood two steps behind them, a silent shadow.

Suddenly, a movement in the back of the room caught my eye. A man in a disheveled trench coat was arguing with a security guard. He looked frantic. He looked like Mark.

My heart leaped. If Mark was here, if he was angry enough to break the deal Julian had made with him…

"The Vane family has always stood for legacy," Julian’s voice boomed.

At that moment, the man in the back broke free. He didn't run for the stage. He held up a camera, the lens long and professional.

*Flash.*

He wasn't Mark. He was a reporter.

"Mr. Vane!" the man shouted. "Is it true your father is under investigation for the disappearance of Silas Vance? And does it have anything to do with the woman standing behind you?"

The room went deathly silent.

I felt Julian’s hand tighten on my waist until it bruised. I looked at him. For the first time,

Julian looked... surprised. He turned his head toward the side of the stage where Arthur Vane was standing in the wings.

Arthur was smiling. A slow, predatory smile.

He’s doing it, I realized.

Arthur leaked the story. He’s trying to destroy Julian using me.

"No comment," Julian said, his voice dropping an octave. "Security, remove him."

As the guards swarmed the reporter, Arthur stepped out from the shadows and walked toward the podium. He took the mic from Julian’s hand, his eyes locked on mine.

"My son is young," Arthur told the press, his voice dripping with false concern. "And sometimes, youth leads to obsessions that cloud judgment. But Vane Enterprises will always be transparent. If Ms. Vance is here against her will, she has only to speak."

The entire room turned to me. A hundred cameras, a hundred eyes, all waiting.

Julian turned to me too. His blue eyes were pleading and threatening all at once. I could feel the gold ring on my finger. I could see the empty cell.

But then, I looked at Arthur. I saw the way he looked at his son with a cold, calculating desire to see him fail.

Arthur didn't want to save me. He wanted to use me to kill Julian’s career so he could take back the throne.

I was caught between two monsters. One who wanted to own me, and one who wanted to execute me.

I stepped forward to the mic.

"I'm not here against my will," I said, my voice echoing through the hall.

Julian exhaled, a visible shudder of relief.

But I wasn't finished. I leaned in closer, my eyes fixed on Arthur Vane.

"I'm here because Julian Vane is the only man who knows the truth about what happened to my father," I said, the lie tasting like copper in my mouth. "And we are going to tell that truth. Together."

The room erupted into chaos. Julian’s grip on my arm was like iron as he hauled me off the stage.

"What the hell was that, Elena?" he hissed.

"A move," I whispered, looking him straight in his icy blue eyes. "You said you wanted me to be your partner. I just started the game. Now, tell me where the hell my father really is, or I’ll tell them about the red ribbon in your drawer."

Julian stared at me, and for the first time in ten years, he looked terrified of the girl he had built a cage for.

Behind us, in the middle of the chaos, Arthur Vane’s smile vanished.

The bird hadn't just beaten its wings. It had pecked back.