Vivienne's POV
I'm staring at the photo of Damien and Celeste when someone knocks on my door.
It's 8:00 AM. I haven't slept all night. I've been sitting on this hotel bed for hours, looking at that picture on my phone over and over, trying to convince myself there's an innocent explanation.
There isn't one.
Damien was with Celeste yesterday. The timestamp doesn't lie. While I was sitting in this hotel crying over him, he was with her.
The knock comes again. Louder this time.
"Vivienne? Are you awake? It's me!"
That voice. I'd know it anywhere.
Celeste.
My sister is the last person I want to see right now. But something makes me get up and open the door anyway. Maybe I want answers. Maybe I just want to scream at someone.
She's standing there looking perfect, like she just walked out of a magazine. Her hair is styled. Her makeup is flawless. She's wearing an expensive designer outfit that probably costs more than this entire hotel.
"Vivienne!" She throws her arms around me before I can stop her. "Oh my God, I've been so worried about you!"
I stand there stiff, not hugging her back. She smells like expensive perfume and lies.
"How did you find me?" I ask coldly.
"I have my ways." She pulls back and looks at me with fake concern. "Sweetie, you look terrible. Have you been crying?"
"What do you want, Celeste?"
She pushes past me into the room without being invited. "I wanted to check on my big sister. I heard you left Damien. Is it true? Are you really getting divorced?"
"How do you know about that?"
"Word travels fast in our circles." She sits down on my bed like she owns the place. "So is it true?"
"That's none of your business."
"Of course it's my business! You're my sister. I care about you." But her eyes are scanning the room, looking at my packed suitcases, taking everything in. "Where are you going? Are you leaving the city?"
"I don't know yet."
"Good. I mean, not good that you don't know. But good that you're getting away from him." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I saw Damien yesterday, actually. Did he tell you?"
My heart stops. "What?"
"He called me. Asked me to meet him." She examines her perfect nails. "He looked awful, Viv. Really awful. I almost felt sorry for him."
I think about the photo. Them in the car together. Her hand on his arm.
"What did he want?" I force myself to ask.
"He wanted to talk about you. About your marriage." Celeste looks up at me. "He was asking me questions about that night. The graduation party. He wanted to know exactly what I told you about the pregnancy scare."
"And what did you tell him?"
"The truth. That I made it all up." She shrugs like it's nothing. "He already knew that, obviously. He's known for seven years. But I think he wanted to hear me admit it out loud."
My hands clench into fists. "You ruined my life, and you're acting like it's no big deal."
"I didn't ruin your life. I gave you Damien Sterling! Do you have any idea how many women would kill to be in your position?" She stands up, irritation flashing across her face. "You got to be Mrs. Sterling. You got the penthouse and the money and the status. And all you did was complain about how lonely you were."
"I didn't want his money. I wanted him to love me."
Celeste laughs. It's a cruel sound. "Love? Viv, you're so naive. Men like Damien don't love. They possess. They control. They collect beautiful things and lock them away." She steps closer. "And now that you're leaving, he's finally realizing what he's losing. But it's not you he's upset about losing. It's the idea of failure. Damien Sterling doesn't fail at anything."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" She tilts her head. "Tell me something. If he loved you so much, why did he spend seven years ignoring you? Why did he keep you at arm's length? Why did he never once tell you how he felt?"
Because he was scared. Because his parents killed themselves and he was terrified of needing anyone.
But I don't say that out loud. I won't give Celeste the satisfaction.
"Maybe this is all for the best," Celeste continues, her voice getting softer. Sweeter. More dangerous. "You and Damien... you never really fit together. He needs someone stronger. Someone who can handle his world." She pauses. "Someone like me."
There it is. The real reason she's here.
"You want him," I say flatly.
"I never stopped wanting him." She doesn't even try to deny it. "He was mine first, remember? I dated him. I knew him before you ever did. And yes, he broke up with me, but only because he thought I was too young. Too immature." She smiles. "But I'm not that girl anymore. I've grown up. I've traveled the world. I've become someone worthy of him."
"Get out."
"Vivienne—"
"I said get out!" My voice is loud. Harsh. "Get out of my room. Get out of my life. And stay away from my husband."
"Your husband?" Celeste laughs. "You just filed for divorce! He's not your husband anymore. He's fair game."
"He was never yours to begin with."
"We'll see about that." She walks toward the door, then stops and turns back. "Oh, one more thing. That photo you got last night? The one of me and Damien in the car?"
My blood runs cold. "How do you know about that?"
"Because I sent it." Her smile is vicious now. "I wanted you to see what you're giving up. I wanted you to know that while you're hiding in this pathetic hotel room, I'm out there spending time with him. Getting closer to him. Reminding him why he fell for me in the first place."
"You're lying. Damien doesn't love you."
"Maybe not yet." She opens the door. "But give me a month. Give me the same month he's asking you for. Let's see who he chooses when it's all over."
She walks out, leaving the door open behind her.
I stand there shaking with rage. She sent the photo. She's been manipulating this whole situation from the beginning.
But why was Damien in that car with her? Why did he meet with her yesterday?
My phone buzzes. A text from Damien: "I'm coming to the hotel. We need to talk about Celeste. It's not what you think."
Another buzz. Another text, this time from the unknown number: "He's lying. Want to see proof? Check the parking lot. Now."
I walk to the window and look down at the parking lot below.
My heart stops.
Damien's car is there. And standing next to it, talking to him through the driver's window, is Celeste. Right now. This very moment.
She's leaning in close. Her hand is on his door. She's smiling at him.
And he's not pushing her away.
As I watch, she reaches through the window and touches his face. A gentle, intimate gesture. The kind of touch you give to someone you love.
And Damien... he closes his eyes like her touch hurts him.
My phone buzzes again. The unknown number: "Still think he's choosing you?"
I grab my suitcases and start throwing the rest of my things into them. I can't stay here. I can't be in the same building as them.
Another text from Damien: "Don't believe whatever Celeste told you. I'm on my way up. Please wait for me."
But I'm not waiting. I'm done waiting. I've waited seven years, and look where it got me.
I drag my suitcases to the door just as the elevator dings down the hall.
Damien's voice: "Vivienne!"
I don't look back. I head for the stairwell instead, pulling my heavy bags behind me. Seven flights of stairs. I don't care. I just need to get away.
"Vivienne, stop!" His footsteps are running now. "Please! Let me explain!"
I'm at the third-floor landing when he catches up to me. His hand grabs my arm gently.
"Don't touch me," I say, jerking away.
"Just listen—"
"I saw you!" The words explode out of me. "I saw you with her in the parking lot just now! She was touching your face, and you just let her!"
His face goes pale. "That's not— She grabbed me. I was telling her to leave me alone—"
"Stop lying!" Tears are streaming down my face. "You met with her yesterday. You met with her again this morning. And you want me to believe there's nothing going on?"
"There IS nothing going on! She's trying to manipulate you!"
"Or maybe you're the one manipulating me!" I'm screaming now, and I don't care who hears. "Maybe Celeste was right. Maybe you don't love me. Maybe you just don't want to fail. Maybe losing your wife looks bad for your precious company image!"
"That's not true and you know it—"
"I don't know anything anymore!" I pick up my suitcases and start down the stairs again. "The month is over, Damien. It never even started. I want that divorce. Sign the papers."
"No."
"SIGN THEM!"
"I won't." His voice is hard now. Desperate. "I won't sign them because I love you. And I don't care if you believe me or not. I don't care if it takes a month or a year or the rest of my life. I'm going to prove it to you."
"How? By chasing me around a hotel stairwell? By making promises you won't keep? By—"
My phone rings. We both stop. I look at the screen.
It's the hospital.
My hands shake as I answer. "Hello?"
"Is this Vivienne Sterling?" A nurse's professional voice.
"Yes."
"I'm calling about Marcus Sterling. He was brought into the emergency room an hour ago. There's been an accident."
The world tilts. Marcus. Damien's younger brother.
"What kind of accident?" I hear myself ask.
"A car accident. It's serious. He's asking for both you and his brother. Can you come right away?"
I look up at Damien. His face tells me he heard every word.
"We'll be right there," I say, and hang up.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. All our fighting, all our pain, all our anger—none of it matters right now.
"Let's go," Damien says quietly.
I nod.
We run down the rest of the stairs together, side by side, racing toward the parking lot. Racing toward the hospital. Racing toward the only person who matters right now.
But as we burst through the exit door, I see something that makes my blood run cold.
Celeste is still in the parking lot. And she's smiling. Not sad. Not worried. Smiling.
Like she knew this was going to happen.
Like she planned it.