Vivienne's POV
Thomas is lying.
I said it the moment I woke up, before Damian could tell me good morning, before Sophie arrived with coffee. I said it like a prayer, over and over, until the words lost meaning.
Thomas is lying. Thomas is lying. He has to be lying.
Damian stood by my living room window where he'd probably been standing all night. He didn't look tired. He looked like a machine that never needed rest.
The FBI is questioning him now, he said without turning around. Agent Marks will call when they're done.
He wouldn't say I ordered the hit. He was my bodyguard for two years. He protected me. He took a bullet for me! My voice cracked. Why would he lie?
Maybe someone got to him. Threatened his family. Paid him off. Damian finally turned to face me. Or maybe he's confused from the coma. Brain injuries can cause false memories.
I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe that.
The apartment door opened and Sophie rushed in carrying a paper bag and two coffees. She looked like she'd been crying.
Please tell me you haven't seen the news yet, she said.
What now? I asked, too tired to care anymore.
She pulled out her phone and showed me the headline: CLAIRE DONOVAN AND JULIAN HARRINGTON ENGAGED: 'She's The One I Should Have Chosen From The Start.'
I stared at the photo of Julian on one knee, holding a ring, while Claire cried perfect tears of joy. The article was full of quotes about real love and finally finding happiness and grateful for second chances.
They'd been together for three weeks. Three weeks since my assassination attempt. And now they were engaged.
There's more, Sophie said quietly, setting coffee on the table. Patricia's legal team filed new papers this morning. They have three doctors ready to testify that you're a danger to yourself and others. The hearing is scheduled for next week.
She pulled out newspapers from her bag. Each headline was worse than the last.
ASHFORD HEIRESS: SUICIDE ATTEMPT OR PUBLICITY STUNT?
SOURCES: VIVIENNE ASHFORD'S DRUG PROBLEM SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL
FAMILY FEARS FOR UNSTABLE HEIRESS
They're everywhere, Sophie said, her voice shaking. Every tabloid, every news site. Patricia's people are feeding stories to anyone who'll listen. They're saying you've attempted suicide twice. That you're addicted to painkillers. That you've been in and out of psychiatric facilities.
None of it was true. But the lies were spreading like poison.
Let them have it, I said, my voice flat and dead. Let them have everything. The money, the company, the Ashford name. I don't care anymore.
Sophie grabbed my hands. Don't say that. We can fight
Fight with what? I pulled my hands away. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. My own bodyguard says I tried to have myself killed. Julian is marrying Claire. Marcus has the company. Patricia is taking my money. My throat closed up. I've already lost, Sophie. I just haven't died yet.
Stop. Damian's voice cut through the room like a knife. He walked over and stood in front of me, forcing me to look up at him. Feel sorry for yourself later. Right now, you need to decide if you're going to roll over and die, or if you're going to fight back.
I don't know how to fight! I shouted. I'm not a soldier like you. I'm just—I'm just a useless socialite who doesn't know how to do anything real
Then learn. His dark eyes bored into mine. You think you're helpless? You survived three bullets. You survived everyone you trusted betraying you. You're still here, still breathing, still standing. That's not weakness. That's strength you haven't learned to use yet.
His words hit something inside me. Something that had been buried under years of being told to smile, be gracious, never make waves.
Start with the truth, Damian continued. Find out who really ordered the hit. Everything else is just noise.
I looked at Sophie, who nodded encouragingly. Then back at Damian.
The FBI has been investigating for three weeks, I said slowly. They have nothing. What am I supposed to do that they can't?
You're not thinking like an Ashford. Damian crouched down so we were eye level. If this assassination connects to your family's business—and everything points that direction—then the evidence is somewhere. Your father's files. His computers. His private records.
My brain started working again, slowly, like waking up from a bad dream.
His study, I whispered. At the mansion. Patricia locked it the day after he died. She said it was 'being preserved for estate settlement.'
Or she's hiding something, Sophie said, catching on fast. If your father was involved in something that got him killed—something that made someone want to kill you too—the proof would be in that study.
I haven't been inside that room since his funeral. My hands started shaking again, but this time from something other than fear. Anger, maybe. Patricia changed all the locks. She has security patrolling the grounds twenty-four seven.
Then we don't ask permission. Damian stood up. We go tonight. Break in, find what we need, get out before anyone knows we were there.
That's breaking and entering, I said. That's illegal
Someone tried to murder you. His voice was flat and hard. Someone is framing you as suicidal and unstable. Someone is systematically destroying your life. You really want to worry about being polite right now?
He was right. Everything was already broken, my reputation, my relationships, my safety. What did I have left to lose by breaking a few rules?
Patricia will call the police the moment she finds out, Sophie said. You could get arrested.
Only if we get caught. I looked at Damian. You said you were in the military. Can you get us in and out without being seen?
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite respect, but close. Yes.
Then we do it tonight. My voice sounded stronger than it had in weeks. We find out what my father was hiding. We find out who wanted him dead. And we find out who's trying to kill me.
Sophie's phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and her face went pale. Oh no.
What? I asked.
Agent Marks just sent an alert. Sophie's hands shook as she held up her phone. Thomas Chen gave the FBI more details about his statement.
My heart stopped. What details?
He says you didn't act alone. Sophie's voice was barely a whisper. He gave them names. People he claims were helping you plan the fake assassination.
What names? Damian asked sharply.
Sophie looked at me with tears in her eyes. Marcus Ashford. Patricia Ashford. And... She couldn't finish.
Who? I demanded.
Julian Harrington. Sophie's voice broke. Thomas is claiming all four of you conspired together. That it was a plan to fake your death, collect insurance money, and disappear. But the shooter went rogue and actually tried to kill you.
The room tilted. That's insane. Marcus and Patricia hate me. Julian left me. Why would we
It doesn't matter if it's true, Damian interrupted. It matters that the FBI now has to investigate all of you. Which means they'll be watching Marcus and Patricia closely.
That's good, right? Sophie asked. If they're watching them
It means breaking into the mansion tonight just got a lot more dangerous. Damian pulled out his phone and started typing. The FBI will probably have surveillance on the property. We'll have to avoid them and Patricia's security.
Can you do that? I asked.
He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something that might have been a smile. That's what you're paying me for.
My phone rang. Agent Marks.
I answered with shaking hands. Hello?
Ms. Ashford, we need you to come to the FBI field office immediately. Her voice was all business. We have questions about Thomas Chen's statement.
I already told you, I didn't
This isn't optional. We're sending agents to pick you up in thirty minutes. Don't leave your apartment. She hung up.
I stared at the phone. They're coming here. In thirty minutes.
Then we have thirty minutes to disappear, Damian said, already moving toward my bedroom. Pack light. Only essentials. We're not coming back here.
Wait, what? Sophie stood up. Where are you going?
Somewhere safe until tonight. Damian looked at me. If the FBI questions you now, they'll keep you there for hours. Maybe days. We need to move while we still can.
My heart pounded. This was real. I was actually going to run from the FBI. Break into my family's mansion. Become everything Patricia was accusing me of being.
But what choice did I have? Stay here and let them lock me up while whoever wanted me dead finished the job?
Sophie, go home, I said, making my decision. If the FBI asks, you don't know where I am. You came here with coffee, I was gone. That's all.
Vivienne
Please. I hugged her tight. I can't drag you into this. You're the only friend I have left.
Sophie hugged me back, crying. Be careful. Please be careful.
She left quickly, and I ran to my bedroom to pack. My hands shook as I threw clothes into a bag. This was crazy. This was insane.
But Damian was right. If I wanted answers, if I wanted to survive, I had to stop being the perfect, obedient Ashford princess.
I had to fight back.
I was zipping my bag when Damian appeared in my doorway.
We have twenty minutes, he said. Then he paused, studying my face. You sure about this? Once we run, there's no going back. The FBI will treat you like a fugitive.
I'm sure. And surprisingly, I was. Someone tried to kill me. My family is destroying me. Everyone I trusted betrayed me. I'm done being a victim.
He nodded slowly. Good. Because where we're going, you'll need to be strong.
Where are we going?
Somewhere Patricia and the FBI won't think to look. He checked his watch. Grab your bag. We leave in five minutes.
I followed him to the living room, my heart racing. This was it. The moment everything changed.
Damian checked the hallway through the peephole, then opened the door.
And froze.
What? I whispered. What's wrong?
He slowly closed the door and locked it. His face had gone completely blank—the expression I was learning meant danger.
The FBI isn't waiting thirty minutes, he said quietly. They're already here. Six agents. Three at the elevator, three at the stairwell.
How do you know?
Because I set up my own cameras in the hallway last night. He pulled out his phone and showed me the feed. Six people in FBI jackets, weapons drawn, moving toward my door.
We were trapped.
What do we do? My voice came out high and panicked.
Damian was already moving to the window, looking down at the street forty floors below. How much do you trust me?
What kind of question
Yes or no. Do you trust me?
I looked at this man I'd known for less than twenty-four hours. This cold, hard soldier who treated me like a mission instead of a person.
But he was here. He was trying to protect me. And right now, he was all I had.
Yes, I whispered.
He opened the window. Then we're going to need to use the fire escape.
I looked down at the forty-floor drop and felt my stomach flip.
You're joking.
I never joke. He strapped on his gun and threw my bag over his shoulder. Move. Now.
Behind us, someone pounded on the door.
FBI! Ms. Ashford, open the door!
Damian held out his hand to me.
I took it.
And together, we climbed out the window into empty air.