“He mentioned you’d been in contact while you were in California.” Aria examines her nails with studied casualness. “Helping you out, checking in on you. Making sure you and the boys were safe.” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “He even let it slip to me—and I’m sure to Charles—that you two met up before Charles and Sienna’s wedding. For a date.”
The world tilts sideways.
“That’s not—” I start, but the words stick in my throat because I’m too busy processing.
Ryan told Charles we’d been in contact. That we’d dated. That there was history between us.
And Charles—Charles who controls information like currency, who positions people like chess pieces—Charles would have shared that information.
With Cal.
Oh God.
Cal, who had me under surveillance for months before Dominic called it off. Cal, who probably still has access to those files, those records, those carefully compiled reports on my life in California. Cal, who Charles just asked to investigate the paternity of my children.
And if Charles told Cal that Ryan claimed to have been helping me, checking on me, maybe even dating me before I got pregnant?—
The pieces click together with sickening clarity.
That’s why Cal has been so quiet. Why Jace has been so distant. Why Silas has been looking at them both like they’ve betrayed something fundamental.
Because Charles planted the seed that Ryan might be the boys’ father. And Cal and Jace—instead of asking me, instead of trusting me—they’ve been spiraling. Doubting. Maybe even investigating.
“Parker?” Sienna’s voice cuts through my thoughts, concerned. “You okay? You just went really pale.”
I force myself to breathe. To think. “When did Ryan tell you this?”
Aria shrugs. “A few days ago. We had drinks. He was quite chatty about you, actually. Seemed very invested in making sure I knew that you two had... history.”
A few days ago. Right around when Cal started acting weird. When the tension between the three of them started building.
“And he told Charles the same thing?” I press.
“I assume so. He mentioned having a conversation with your brother about wanting to pursue things with you properly this time. Now that you’re back, now that Dominic isn’t around to interfere.” Aria’s smile is sharp. “He seemed quite confident you’d say yes. It’s not like you’re dating anyone with how busy you are with your sons and Charles’s best friends circling you now more than ever.”
My hands are shaking. I lower the mask carefully, setting it back in its velvet box before I drop it.
“Parker,” Mom says gently, “if there’s something between you and Ryan, you can tell us. We’re not going to judge you for?—”
“There’s nothing between me and Ryan,” I interrupt, my voice harder than I intend. “We didn’t date. We weren’t in contact while I was in California. He’s lying.”
The words hang in the air.
“Why would he lie?” my mother asks, genuinely confused.
Because he wants me,I think. Because he sees me as an opportunity—alliance with the Carters, access to power, a pretty face to put on his arm at events like this. Because men like Ryan Matthews don’t hear “no,” they hear “convince me.”
But I can’t say any of that out loud without explaining why it matters so much. Without revealing that I’m already taken, that I wake up most mornings tangled between three men who’ve claimed every part of me, that the thought of Ryan Matthews touching me makes my skin crawl.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. “But I’m going to find out.”
Sienna is watching me with that knowing expression again—the one that says she sees through all of it. She knows. Maybe not the details, maybe not the specifics, but she knows that my objection to Ryan isn’t about him being unsuitable or the wrong family or bad timing.
It’s because I’m already someone else’s. Three someone else’s.
“You’re very quiet,” Mom observes after a long moment. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Before I can answer, Sienna sets down her champagne flute with purpose. “You know what? Maybe we should try a different color, Madame Laurent. The gown is beautiful, but I feel like since this is Parker’s first formal event back, we should lean further from subtlety and more...” She trails off, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror with deliberate intent.
