25

But she never told me the full truth.

Does she not trust me? Have I done anything to make her think she shouldn’t? A lot. There’s a lot I’ve kept from her too.

Lies on all sides.

I need to talk to her, to hear her side of the story. But I’m afraid of what I might find out. Afraid that the fragile, forbidden relationship we’ve built will crumble. But as the minutes tick by, the silence of my office deafening, I wonder if I ever really had her to begin with.

My cell rings and Marty’s name flashes on the screen. Part of me wants to ignore the call, but I know better than to defy him. I stab the answer button.

“Marty,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I trust you’ve heard the big news,” he drawls.

My throat constricts. “Yes, I... I saw the pictures.”

“Excellent. This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.” I want to hurl at the smug note in his voice. At the insinuation that I’m a willing part of anything he’s demanded of me. Of what I know he’s going to ask of me.

“She’s a student, Marty,” I say. I have to try even though I know it won’t work.

“You’re not stupid, Jonathan. You know what to do. Once you have her under your spell, you convince her to persuade her father to make generous ‘donations’ to the university.” He chuckles. “I’m sure a bright girl like her will understand the benefits of investing in her education.”

Bile rises in my throat as I consider the depravity of his plan. It’s despicable, unforgivable. And she’s going to think that’s all she means to me when she finds out. Because she will. She’s that kind of smart.

“I... I’ll try,” I manage, the words feeling like ash in my mouth. “She…might not like me. Not like that.” I have to put the idea in his head. Have to at least try.

“Oh, you’ll do more than try, Jonathan. You’ll do everything you can to make that girl fall for you,” Marty warns. “Do I need to remind you of the consequences if you fail?”

I know he’s not bluffing. Only now it’s not just my career on the line. Cathy will be under public scrutiny. Now more than ever. There’s a very real threat that who we are to each other will be discovered. But if I go along with his twisted plan...Cathy may never forgive me when the truth comes out. I’ll have betrayed the woman I love in the worst way possible. Revulsion wars with resignation inside me. I’ve never felt so helpless, so cornered.

“No, you don’t need to remind me,” I say, defeat weighing down my words.

There’s a beat of silence, then Marty gives a happy chuckle that makes me feel subhuman. “Excellent. And I want to see some of my funds deposited directly into my account. I’m tired of waiting. Especially since I know more will be coming in. I’ll expect a transfer into my account today, and regular updates on your...relations with Miss Fowler.”

The call disconnects, but Marty’s violation lingers. I toss my cell on my desk and bury my face in my hands. If she ever finds out the truth of what I’ve agreed to, she’ll hate me. I’m utterly, hopelessly trapped...with no way to protect the woman I love from the fallout to come.

Cathy

The cacophony of noise in the bustling airport baggage claim area washes over me in a discordant wave—a jarring juxtaposition to the relative serene quiet of the flight I just disembarked. I shift restlessly from foot to foot, craning my neck to scan the conveyor belt for my luggage, desperate for any sense of forward momentum.

Because looming ahead is the one inevitability I’ve been equally dreading and yearning for ever since leaving New York behind—Jonathan. A frisson of anticipation sparks low in my belly. It won’t be long before I see him again. It’s only been days, but it feels like forever.

I gnaw at my lower lip, an all too familiar ache settling between my thighs as flashes of us together skitter through my mind. His elegant hands roaming the planes of my body, the scorching slide of his mouth over mine, the reverent way he touches me as he slides into my body.

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I tug my jacket tighter, trying to rein in the heated swirl of desire until I can sate my aching need. But in spite of the delicious craving, there is a sliver of apprehension that I can’t quite dismiss, regardless of how hard I try.

Our time together has an expiration date. That time looms closer with each passing day. Jonathan won’t—can’t—take this thing between us any further, no matter how deeply it resonates in my soul.

And yet...I can’t seem to let him go, either. Not when being with him is the only thing that quiets the incessant hum of anxiety constantly thrumming beneath my skin. Not when he makes me feel more vibrantly myself than anyone else ever has.

He doesn’t know who I am, yet he knows me deeper than anyone ever has.

I haven’t heard from him, but then I remember my cell is still in flight mode. I dig my cell from my pocket and turn off flight mode. Notifications begin to ping as it connects. Jonathan. My heart picks up as I flick on my messenger feed, anticipation thrumming through me.

But it’s not him.

The names on the influx of frantic texts flooding my screen make my stomach plummet like a dead weight. Adeline. And Dad.

“What?” I shouldn’t be hearing from them. They should still be on their honeymoon wrapped up in each other. My fingers feverishly tap to read the frantic messages.

Adeline: Oh God, Catherine, I’m so so sorry.

Dad: I’m handling this. We’re doing everything we can to stop it.

Stop what? My heart hammers erratically as dread coils ever tighter in my gut. With a few more swipes, the picture becomes horrifyingly clear.

Staring back at me in vivid pixel detail is an image from Adeline and Dad’s wedding reception—a candid shot of me wrapped in an embrace with the two beaming newlyweds, our radiant smiles captured for eternity taken on the night of their wedding.

And based on the barrage of texts overloading my phone, that once private family moment has been leaked far and wide across all media platforms, along with my full name and connections to my high-profile father’s business empire.

A strangled sound catches in my throat as I frantically scan my surroundings. Sure enough, furtive glances and hushed whispers now seem to be directed my way from every angle, realization prickling ice-cold along my skin. That’s why people have been looking at me. The whispers and covert glances I’d noticed yesterday and all morning now make sense.

My anonymity, my simple life of blending into the background...it’s all been razed in one fell swoop. Now I’m exposed, a spotlight shining on my every move whether I want it or not.

“Cathy, kiddo, I’m so sorry.” Dad’s gruff voice crackles over the line as soon as I answer his frantic call, his tone tight with anger and regret.

“How did it happen, Dad? We’ve been so careful.” Everyone at the wedding was our closest friends and family. Everyone there knows and has always respected mine and my father’s wishes when it comes to my privacy.

Dad’s voice growls down the line. “I don’t know how this happened, but I swear on my life, I’ll get to the bottom of it and make whoever did this pay for violating your privacy like this.”

But I already know who did this. The flash of blond hair I’d made myself think I’d imagined must have been real. Chris was there. He did what he’s threatened to do for years and made good on his promise.

I draw in a shaky breath, panic constricting my airway because it’s too late to put this genie back in the bottle. The damage is done. Just like that, my quiet, beautifully insular life has been blasted wide open, no longer my own.

“Cathy…”

“It’s all right, Dad. It was bound to happen someday.” I somehow choke the words out. He’s on his honeymoon. He deserves to have a handful of days where he can just enjoy himself. Adeline too. They’ve both been through so much.

“I’ll come home. We both will.” I hear Adeline in the background agreeing with Dad.

“Will you two just relax? I’m fine. Honestly, it was a small miracle we were able to keep me secret for so long. I’ll be fine. We’ll talk when you get back, but I don’t want to hear from you for at least another week,” I say.

The cell rustles. “Cathy, as your new stepmom…”

I force cheer into my voice. “Adeline, as your new stepdaughter who is also an adult, I’m telling you to relax. We will get to the end of this, but a week won’t make any difference. I mean it. Go and enjoy your vacation.” I hit her where I know it will yield results when she begins to protest. “Dad needs it.”

Adeline pauses. “Just…we’ll find out who did this and then they’ll pay.”

“Absolutely.” I’ll say anything so they won’t worry.

We end the call but I know they won’t stop worrying. I’ll do my best to keep them on their honeymoon as long as possible but in order to do that, I’ll have to pretend as though my stomach isn’t hollowing out and leaving a deep, dark cavern in its place.

My cell pings again, and Chris’s contact name flashes up. I open the stream and message after message pops up. Me at the wedding. Me at lunch with Maddy and Lily. Me shopping. Me waiting for a cab. Me smiling and chatting with Dad and Adeline when we went for a breakfast before the wedding. Photo after photo of candid shots of me revealing not only my private life, but those closest to me.

I have to call him.

The phone feels like a lead weight in my clammy palm as I muster the courage to dial Chris’s number. My finger hovers over the call button, chest constricting because I know there’s no going back. He holds all the cards. There’s no use putting it off. With a fortifying inhale, I tap the screen and lift the phone to my ear with a trembling hand.

It rings only once before his instantly recognizable timbre grinds out a terse, “Well, well. If it isn’t the little princess herself, crawling back to beg for my mercy.”

Anger and dread war within me, but I keep my tone as steady as possible. “Stop releasing those photos, Chris. I’ll...I’ll do what you want, just please, stop with the leaks.”

A harsh bark of laughter crackles through the speaker. “That’s more like it. I knew you’d see sense eventually.” The mocking tone makes my skin crawl with revulsion. “But just to be crystal clear on what I want—Tim’s job is mine. No more playing games.”

I squeeze my eyes shut against the roiling nausea in my gut, because we both know that request is utterly impossible on so many levels and yet, he can’t see it.

Maybe I can slow him down a bit. Get a few days to just think.