Chapter 7

The whispers continued, a low hum of gossip and pity that filled the grand ballroom.

"Poor Emely. First her parents, now this."

"He was so devoted. What a turnaround."

I managed a faint, brittle smile.

Suddenly, the room fell silent. Every head turned toward the grand staircase.

Kandy stood at the top, a vision in a couture gown, dripping with diamonds. Her smile was radiant, triumphant. She descended the stairs, basking in the sudden, focused attention of New York's elite.

Grady met her at the bottom. He took her hand, his eyes shining with a love so bright it was almost painful to watch.

He cleared his throat, ready to make the official announcement, to introduce his true love to the world.

But before he could speak, the lights flickered and died.

The ballroom was plunged into absolute darkness. Panic erupted. The sound of screams and crashing furniture filled the air.

I instinctively backed into a corner, trying to stay out of the chaos. A hand clamped over my wrist. Another pressed a chemical-soaked cloth over my mouth and nose.

The world spun. I struggled, but my strength faded quickly. The last thing I heard before consciousness slipped away was a woman's terrified scream.

I woke up to the sound of Kandy's voice, a furious, hushed whisper.

"You idiots! I told you to do it after the party, not during! And you grabbed the wrong person!"

She was arguing with someone. "I'm not paying you the rest of the money!"

My mind cleared instantly. Kandy had arranged a fake kidnapping, a damsel-in-distress plot to make Grady her hero. But her hired thugs had messed up. They'd taken me instead of her.

Or maybe... they weren't her thugs at all.

"Boss, you think she's faking?" one of the men asked, his voice rough.

"Who cares? Knock her out," another voice, deeper and more menacing, replied.

There was a dull thud, and Kandy's voice was silenced.

I kept my eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness. I subtly flexed my fingers, feeling the rough texture of the man's belt near me. There was an empty gun holster. These weren't the petty criminals Kandy would have hired.

The low hum of a boat engine vibrated through the floor. The salty smell of the sea filled the air.

My heart sank. I recognized the second man's voice. It was Victor Cain, a ruthless business rival of the Allens. He wasn't playing games.

We were on a boat, heading out to sea.

After what felt like an eternity, the boat stopped. I heard the sound of a video call connecting.

"Well, well, Grady Allen," Victor's voice boomed. "Look what I have here. Your new love and your old flame. You can only save one. Who will it be?"

I felt a phone being pointed at my face. I kept my eyes shut, my face slack.

I could hear the sound of other boats approaching-Grady's security detail.

He was here.

On the screen of the phone, I could see his face. He was on a yacht, his expression a mask of cold fury. But when the camera panned to Kandy, who had a red mark on her shoulder where she'd been grabbed, his composure cracked.

"Don't you dare touch her, Cain," Grady snarled, his voice vibrating with rage. "If you harm a single hair on her head, I will destroy you and your entire family."

I had my eyes closed, but I couldn't stop the single tear that escaped and traced a cold path down my temple.

I expected this. I knew who he would choose. It was why I was doing all of this. But hearing it, feeling the finality of it, still hurt.

Victor laughed, a cruel, ugly sound. "I don't think I'll give you a choice at all."

Rough hands grabbed me. Another pair grabbed Kandy's unconscious form. We were shoved into a large glass box. The lid was sealed shut.

The box was thrown overboard. It hit the water with a massive splash, and with heavy weights attached to the bottom, it began to sink immediately.

I was grateful I'd had the foresight to pretend to be unconscious. I still had some strength left.

I kicked off my high heels and, using the sharp heel of one shoe, I started pounding on the glass.

The pressure of the water was immense. The glass finally cracked, then shattered. Shards of it sliced at my arms and legs as the ocean rushed in. I ignored the pain, grabbed Kandy, and pulled her out of the sinking cage.

I kicked frantically, fighting my way toward the surface. My lungs were burning. I broke through into the night air, gasping, my body screaming with exhaustion.

I found a piece of floating debris from the shattered box and pushed Kandy onto it.

"Live, Kandy," I whispered, my voice a raw croak. "Live and be happy with him."

If she lived, his obsession would have a home. He wouldn't be haunted by her ghost.

I started to push the makeshift raft toward the distant lights of the shore. But then it happened.

My arm went numb. The disease, triggered by the cold and the exertion, was flaring up.

My grip on the wood loosened. I had no strength left.

My body, heavy and useless, began to sink into the cold, dark water.

I looked up at the shimmering surface, at the distant lights, and accepted my fate.

This was it.

Just as the darkness began to consume me, I thought I saw a figure diving toward me, a hand reaching out. A hallucination, I thought. A final, desperate trick of a dying mind.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was staring at the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room.

A nurse rushed to my side. "You're awake! Thank God! You've been unconscious for two days."

She fussed with my IV drip. "We almost had to stop your treatment. We don't know who you are, there's no ID, no one has come to pay the bills. Your lung infection is serious, it could come back."

My voice was a dry rasp. "Did... did anyone come to see me?"

The nurse's face softened with pity. "No, sweetie. No one." She sighed. "The other woman, though, Kandy Paul? Her fiancé has had specialists flying in from all over the world. He hasn't left her side."

I felt a strange sense of release. A sad, quiet smile touched my lips.

It was truly over.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. A familiar voice called my name.

"Emely?"

I turned my head. My breath caught in my throat.

It was my brother, Jeremiah.

Tears, hot and unstoppable, flooded my eyes and streamed down my face.

"I couldn't reach you," he said, his voice thick with emotion as he rushed to my bedside. "So I came to find you."

He pulled me into a fierce, protective hug. "It's okay, Emely," he whispered, stroking my hair. "You're with me now. We're going home."

All the pain, all the grief, all the strength I had forced myself to maintain, shattered. I clung to him and sobbed, my body shaking with the force of my release. I just nodded, unable to speak.

When I tried to stand, my legs gave out. Jeremiah caught me, his arms a strong, steady presence. The nurse rushed to help.

"Where are you going?" the nurse asked as Jeremiah guided me slowly toward the elevator. "She's very weak."

"To the roof," Jeremiah said, his voice calm and steady. "The helicopter is waiting."

The nurse stared, her mouth agape.

A few minutes later, we were lifting off, the city shrinking below us. The private jet ascended through the clouds, heading toward a new country, a new life.

I wiped the last tear from my cheek and looked out the window at the endless blue sky.

I whispered a final goodbye to the man I was leaving behind.

Be happy, Grady. We're even now. I'll never see you again.