Vivian sat by the window of her hotel room, watching raindrops race down the glass. She hadn't slept all night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Isabella's facealive, smirking, triumphant.
The cheap alarm clock showed 8:30 AM. In thirty minutes, she was meant to meet Damien at the Bluejay Café. Part of her wanted to pack her bags and catch the first train out of New York.
But a bigger part needed answers. Her phone buzzed. A text from Julian: Are you okay? Call me if you need anything. She put the phone down without answering.
Julian had been kind last night, driving her back to the hotel in quiet, respecting that she wasn't ready to talk. But he'd known Isabella was living and hadn't told her. How could she trust him now?
A knock at the door made her jump. "Room service," called a man's voice. "I didn't order anything," Vivian answered, not moving from her spot.
"Vivian, it's me." Her heart skipped. Damien. She glanced at the clock again 8:35 AM. He was meant to meet her at the café, not here.
Slowly, she walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Damien stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched. His eyes darted nervously around like he was watching for someone.
Vivian opened the door but blocked the entry. "You're early. And at the wrong place." "I know. I'm sorry," Damien said quietly. "Can I come in? It's not safe to talk in the open." Vivian paused, then stepped aside.
As Damien entered, she caught a whiff of his colognethe same one he'd worn ten years ago. The familiar smell made her chest ache.
"How did you find my hotel?" she asked, keeping her distance.
"Your name was on the party guest list." Damien ran a hand through his hair, a worried habit she remembered well. "I need to tell you.
Coming to that café would've been a mistake. People are watching you now." "People? What people?" Vivian folded her arms.
"Stop being secretive and just tell me what's going on. Is my sister alive? Obviously, yes. Why did everyone lie to me for ten years?"
Damien sank into the room's only chair. The confident man she'd known was gone, replaced by someone who looked tired and afraid.
"Yes, Isabella is alive," he admitted. "She never drowned that night at the lake. It was staged." "Why?" Vivian demanded. "To protect her."
Damien leaned forward. "Someone was threatening her. Someone dangerous. Your father thought the only way to keep her safe was to make the world believe she was dead." "And let everyone think I had something to do with it?" Vivian's voice rose.
"Let me carry that guilt? Let my father throw me out of my own home?" "That wasn't the plan," Damien maintained. "You were supposed to know the truth.
But after that night, you were so confused, so frightened. You kept saying you saw Isabella go under the water" "Because that's what I remember!" Vivian cried.
"But you didn't see the whole story," Damien said softly. "You hit your head when you fell on the dock. By the time you woke up in the hospital, the plan was already in motion. Alexander decided it was safer if you didn't know." "Safer for who?" Vivian demanded. "Not for me!" Damien looked down at his hands.
"I wanted to tell you. I begged Alexander to tell you the truth." "But you didn't," Vivian said coldly. "And now you're with her. With Isabella." Damien's jaw tightened. "It's complicated." "Doesn't seem complicated to me."
Vivian turned away, fighting tears. "You were supposed to love me." "I did love you," Damien said, his voice cracking. "I still " He stopped himself, shaking his head.
"Things aren't what they seem, Vivian. I need you to trust me." "Trust you?" Vivian laughed bitterly. "After everything?" Damien stood up suddenly.
"Someone's coming to your room at noon. Someone who works for a dangerous man named Elias Blackwood. Don't go anywhere with them."
"Who's Elias Blackwood?" Vivian asked, surprised by the urgency in his voice. "The reason Isabella had to disappear." Damien moved to the window, carefully peeking past the curtain. "He's a criminal, and he's obsessed with your family."
"Why would someone come to my room?" "Because you weren't supposed to be at that party," Damien said grimly. "Your request was a fake. Someone wanted to force a fight between you and Isabella."
"But who" "I don't know," Damien revealed. "Not yet. That's why you need to come with me to your family's house. Now." Vivian shook her head. "No way. I'm not going anywhere near my father."
"You have to," Damien urged. "Whatever's happening, you're in the middle of it now. And the DeWitt house is the safest place for you." "Safe?" Vivian scoffed. "The last time I was there, my father told me he never wanted to see me again." Damien stepped closer, his eyes begging.
"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But there are things you don't understand, things I can't explain here." He reached for her hand.
"Isabella didn't just hide for ten years. She was making a case against Blackwood. Evidence that could put him away forever. That's why she came back now." Vivian pulled her hand away. "And what does any of this have to do with me?" "Everything," Damien said.
"Blackwood believes you know somethingsomething that could destroy him." "But I don't!" "Maybe you do and don't remember." Damien checked his watch.
"We need to go. Now. Pack your things." Vivian stood her ground. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the full truth. What happened that night at the lake?
What does Blackwood think I know?" Damien ran his hand through his hair again, clearly irritated. "I wish I could tell you everything, but I promised" He stopped mid-sentence. "Promised who? Isabella?" Vivian asked, her voice sharp.
"Not Isabella," Damien said quietly. "Your mother." Vivian froze. "My mother? My mother died when I was a baby." Something flashed in Damien's eyespity, maybe, or guilt. "That's another lie, Vivian. Your mother is living.
She's been watching over you from a distance all these years." The room seemed to spin. Vivian gripped the edge of the desk to settle herself. "No. That's not possible." "It is," Damien maintained.
"And she can explain everything, but only if you come with me now." Vivian stared at him, trying to tell if he was lying. The Damien she'd known couldn't hide his feelingshis eyes always gave him away.
But this man in front of her was different, harder to read. "Why should I believe anything you say?" she asked finally. Damien reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small silk box. "Because of this."
Vivian recognized it instantlya jewelry box from the summer they'd been in love. The summer before Isabella "died." "You kept it?" she whispered.
"Open it," Damien pushed. With shaky fingers, Vivian took the box and lifted the lid. Inside was a metal locketnot the one Damien had given her years ago, but similar. She picked it up carefully.
"Open the locket," Damien said softly. Vivian did. Inside was a tiny picture of a woman with familiar gray eyesher eyes.
"That's your real mother," Damien said. "Her name is Margot Vale." "The family lawyer?" Vivian looked up in shock. "She's been protecting you all these years, in her own way," Damien said.
"Even from a distance." Vivian stared at the tiny photo, feelings swirling inside her. If this was trueif all of it was trueher entire life had been built on lies. A sharp knock at the door made them both jump. "Vivian DeWitt?" called a rough male voice. "I have a message for you." Damien's face went pale.
"That's not hotel staff," he whispered. "That's one of Blackwood's men. He's early." The lock rattled. "Miss DeWitt, I know you're in there." Damien grabbed Vivian's arm. "Is there another way out?"
"The fire escape," Vivian whispered, pointing to the window. As they moved toward it, Vivian's phone buzzed loudly on the bedside table. The knocking at the door became pounding.
"Last chance, Miss DeWitt," the man called. "Mr. Blackwood just wants to talk." Damien slid the window open. "Go," he pushed. "I'll hold him off." "But" "Trust me," Damien begged.
"Just this once. Go to Julian Parker's office on Broadway. I'll meet you there." The door split around the lock. It would only take one more good kick to break in.
"Go!" Damien hissed, shoving the locket into her hand. Vivian climbed out onto the fire escape, cold rain soaking her quickly. She looked back through the window to see Damien facing the door, shoulders squared.
The last thing she heard as she scrambled down the old stairs was the crash of the hotel room door being kicked open, followed by a man's angry shout and the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with flesh.
She clutched the locket as she ran, the face of a mother she'd never known pressed against her palma mother who, if Damien was telling the truth, had been closer than Vivian could have imagined. And if that was true, what other lies was her family hiding?