Snow falls harder outside, sealing us in, isolating us from the rest of the world. It’s nice, sitting here, curled up together listening to quiet Christmas music and justbeing.
But then a phone buzzes. It’s on the kitchen counter where Blair plugs her phone in at night. We both pretend we don’t hear it, but then it happens again. And again.
She frowns and kicks the blanket off, walking over to grab her phone off the charger. "It’s Harper," Blair says, unlocking her phone. "She's probably freaking out about the gala."
She unlocks the screen and the smile drops off her face.
"Holy shit," she breathes.
She sits down and curls into my body and I watch her tap into the link in the message. Her eyes scan the screen and get wider the more she reads.
“What is it?” I ask even though I know. There’s only one thing itcouldbe.
"It's Vivienne," she says, looking up at me. "She's dead."
I keep my face perfectly still. "Is she?"
"She... she overdosed." Blair turns the phone so I can see the screenshot and the million emojis Harper sent. "At The E hotel. They found her this morning."
She clicks back into the article, scrolls down, reading more.
"She wasn't alone," Blair says, and I can’t get a read on her voice. It’s like she’s happy or disturbed or indifferent. Maybe a mix of all three. "She was with Richard Sterling. That judge? His wife already released a statement... Jesus, Gabriel. It says they were having an affair. He’s been arrested for possession and negligence."
She stares at the phone, then slowly lifts her eyes to mine.
Richard Sterling.
I hide a smirk behind the rim of my coffee cup.
Sterling has been a liability for the Savage Society for months. Fucking them over in court more than once. Cole decided to kill two birds with one stone. Ruining Vivienne’s reputation by having her overdose in the bed of a married man is ruthless. It destroys her legacy and incinerates Sterling’s life in a single move.
Blair searches my face. She’s looking for guilt. She’s looking for surprise.
She won’t find either.
"Tragic," I say.
Blair’s gaze sharpens. She’s smart. She knows how the world works now. She knows that Vivienne Ashford humiliated her publicly. She knows Vivienne gave Ryder the keys to the car that ran her off the road.
And she knows I protect what’s mine.
She looks at the phone again, typing a quick reply to Harper before setting it face down on the coffee table.
"You know, I’ve always loved karma," she says softly.
"Me, too.”
She slides closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
"I'm glad she can't hurt us anymore," she whispers.
"No one can hurt us anymore."
My hand slides under the hem of the shirt, finding the warm, bare skin of her thigh. I squeeze, feeling the soft give of her flesh.
"I promised to take you back to bed," I murmur, dipping my head to brush my lips against the sensitive spot behind her ear. "And I don't break promises."
"Wait," she says, though her breath hitches and her legs instinctively part to let me closer. She places a hand on my chest, stopping my descent. "We haven't done gifts yet."
