The day after we got home from Mexico, I’d moved my things out of Julian’s while he raged about Griffin’s “stunt” of leaving the team. Imani and Cleo had been there, acting as human shields, but it hadn’t stopped the tirade.
Three hours of listening to how Griffin was ungrateful, reckless, and throwing away everything Julian had built. How dare he embarrass the team. How dare he prioritize his own career over loyalty.
The press had called Griffin brave. He was refreshingly honest and he had taken a long-overdue stand against team politics.
Julian called it betrayal.
Standing in my childhood bedroom, shoving clothes into boxes while my father ranted like I was the one who’d left Aedris. Like I was supposed to apologize for Griffin’s decisions. Explain them. Fix them.
I’d wanted to scream that none of this was my fault. That I’d done everything he asked, but I couldn’t magic him a personality transplant.
It wouldn’t have mattered. Julian didn’t care about logic when he was angry. He cared about control. And right now, Griffin was the one thing he couldn’t control.
At least the media loved it. Small mercies.
“I didn’t want to just... assume anything.”
“Assume what? That you live here?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Princess, why do you need your own place?”
“Because I can’t just live off you forever.” The words came out more defensive than I meant. “I need my own money. My own space that I pay for. I need to stand on my own two feet.”
Understanding flickered across his face. “This is about independence.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He took my hands. “Then we need to talk about Monaco.”
My breath caught. “What about Monaco?”
“I’ve been putting it off for years, but it’s time.” He squeezed my hands. “Better tax situation, easier to get to the factory when I need to be there.”
“You want to move to Monaco.”
“I want us to move to Monaco.” His thumb traced my knuckles. “You, me, and Hazel. Most of the grid and their families live there. There’s more support there too. For...” He paused, something unreadable crossing his face. “For the future. Whatever that looks like.”
Heat crept up my neck. Was he hinting at kids?
“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been researching universities. Found three with excellent Psychology programs. Close enough that you could commute.”
My expression softened. “You’ve been researching for me?”
This man. Every time I thought he’d outdone himself, he proved me wrong.
“Of course I have.” He said it like it was obvious. “But that brings us back to money. And there’s something I need to know first.”
Dread coiled in my stomach at his tone.
His jaw flexed. “How much did Julian pay you to be Hazel’s nanny?”
If I told him, he’d lose his mind. And I’d really rather not have Griffin pacing the kitchen, shouting about my father and waking Hazel from her nap.
“That’s not relevant.”
“How much, Vi?”
I looked away. Dammit, why couldn’t I hold out against this man?
“He didn’t.”
