They didn’t know they needed to be searching the shadows of the footage from the property’s cameras for a tiny waif of a woman with silver hair.
Hair that?—
Jace’s brows come up, eyes studying mine. Then his mouth twitches at the corners. “Almost had me.” He leans close, voicedropping so it won’t be overheard by those milling around the charity dinner we’re both attending. “What really happened?”
“Not doomscrolling,” I mutter. “But I can’t talk about it here.”
I’m not dumb enough to ignore that I need to tell someone what happened, and that Jace—who was there that day years ago and afterward—would understand precisely why I needed privacy for the conversation.
“Drink at my place later?” he offers.
“Marie going to be there?”
I like his wife but I’m not sure I’m ready for anyone else to know what’s happening.
“No.” He scowls as he leans back in his chair. “She’s with Jean-Michel in Germany.”
“Problem at that new site?”
Jean-Michel Dubois is one of the most powerful men in the world—he owns the vineyard we’re currently sitting in, his influence so vast that the seats are full, even though he’s not here to attend the fundraiser for his daughter’s charity. He’s also in biotech, owns a hockey team, and is a venture capitalist, along with having his own philanthropic interests.
I have more money than I could spend in a lifetime, and Jace isn’t far behind me…
But we’re leaps and bounds behind Jean-Michel.
Something I’m glad for. The power he wields, the fact that he’s managed to use it for good, supporting smaller businesses with products that actually help people while also giving millions upon millions away each year, not to mention the responsibility he shoulders for his many employees and business ventures and charities and?—
My throat closes, just the slightest bit, as panic crawls up the back of my throat.
I don’t want that.
I never even wanted as much as I have now.
I just wanted to be free to love?—
“Yeah,” he mutters. “But she’ll be home tomorrow.” His mouth kicks up. “Mostly because my woman is a badass.”
He’s not wrong.
Marie Henderson, née Austen, began her career as Jean-Michel’s assistant.
Now she’s one of his most trusted associates and business partners, an absolute beast in the boardroom and fucking perfect for my friend.
Especially since he got his head out of his ass about her.
Now they’re living in wedded bliss and my friend is happy.
I’m glad. He deserves it.
Even if I’m jealous.
Because I had to give all of that up in order to?—
“Hi.”
It’s one word, but even before I turn around to see the woman who’s said it, I feel my temper begin to fray.
Bailey had been a mistake.
