The bar was tucked under a tower of glassware, half-shadowed. The music shifted—softer, meant to soothe. It didn’t.
Mom ordered water instead of champagne. Before the glass even hit the counter, someone called her name—one of the board members, older, polished, smiling too wide. She hesitated then turned toward him, clutch now gripped tight in her hand.
I leaned against the end of the bar, waiting for when Luke could break away from his conversation and join me. That was when Elise made her move. She cut through the crowd as though she’d been trained for this. Red lipstick, jet-black hair pined in an elaborate updo, black dress, and a calm that looked rehearsed. She didn’t bother pretending we weren’t already watching each other.
When she stopped in front of me, she held out a thick envelope. “For you.”
I didn’t want to take it. I did anyway. Then I opened it and withdrew a stack of papers. A quick scan told me the contents had something to do with King Enterprises, and at the top, a stamp of my mom’s credentials. The world tilted on its axis, my vision tunneled, and my stomach hollowed out as I read. “What is this?” But some part of me knew, and holy shit it wasn’t anything good.
Elise leaned in, her voice almost gentle. “My dad asked me to make sure you got that.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t want to embarrass you and your mom with the feds swarming the place and arresting her in front of everyone.” Her gaze flicked toward Luke, now talking with his father. Then to Dunn, her dad, who gave her a slight nod. “He’s being generous, Mila, and giving you both time to get the hell out of here—and town. You should appreciate that.”
My pulse hammered. “What is this supposed to be?”
“A bargaining chip.” Her lashes lowered, then she tapped the top page with one manicured nail. “Your mom accessed restricted King files over a year ago—files that my father later acquired—her credentials, her time stamp, all neatly recorded. And then there’s you, who disappeared with her right after. Convenient timing, don’t you think?” Her gaze flicked toward Luke before settling on me once again with venom dripping from the cold depth. “You’re with the wrong person—Luke is meant to be mine—and it’s going to cost you and your mom more that I think you want to give.”
I couldn’t feel my hands.
“That’s not what happened. My mom hasn’t done anything.” But the flash drive—the memory of Mom in the kitchen, smashing it with a hammer—swam to the forefront of my mind. It had to be a mistake. Mom was capable of a lot for our survival, but not that. It wasn’t her style.
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. But the board won’t care. Grant King won’t. And the feds definitely won’t. So here’s your out.” Her tone went deceptively soft. “Walk away from Luke, tonight.”
My throat locked. “And if I don’t?”
“My father makes your mother the story instead, and she goes down for espionage.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “You get painted as bait. Luke gets dragged into a scandal for falling for you that will cause his family to lose faith in him. With Luke and I back together, a peaceful merger is inevitable. If not, the merger burns. Everyone loses. Except us.”
Except us—because Dunn was planning a hostile takeover, buying up King’s stock with shell companies. No matter the outcome, they would come out ahead.
The swish of fabric pulled my gaze. Behind Elise, Mom’s hands shook, the water in her glass sloshing over the edge, tiny drops painting her emerald dress to deep jade.
“My dad already showed your mom the files,” Elise added. “The story’s already been written for her, too. So don’t pretend this isn’t real.”
Everything went soundless.
Her perfume hit next—sweet, cold, poisonous.
“This is me doing you a favor,” she whispered. “You walk, this dies quietly. You stay, they will take you down and call it protection.”
I almost laughed. Because of course she called it mercy.
But the worst part was, I believed her. Not emotionally. Strategically. From what I knew of her father, he didn’t bluff. He built outcomes.
Was this why they’d called Mom back? To set her up? I dropped my gaze to the papers. If so, they’d succeeded. But still, my voice scraped out. “This won’t fix things for you. Luke is never going to?—”
“This isn’t about me,” she snapped. “It’s about trajectory. Luke and I belong to the most powerful families in this town. Your mom’s collateral. Don’t make it messy.”
She stepped back, perfect composure sliding into place. “Be smart, Mila.” Then she vanished, absorbed back into the fold of donors and secrets.
Mom stepped forward, crowding me. Her lipstick was still flawless. Her voice wasn’t. “This is bad, Mila. And way too soon. I haven’t—” Her hand shook before she steadied it. “We don’t have options. Not yet.”
My throat burned. “What do you mean?”
“You need to let him go,” she whispered. “Tonight. Quietly.”
Her voice broke.
