4. Katie
— ? —
Katie
I’ve never been to this part of the city before.
The buildings here are all glass and steel, reaching up toward the sky like they’re trying to prove something. Everything is polished and expensive.
Henry’s building has his name on it.
WILSON TOWER.
Forty floors of commercial real estate, and he owns the whole thing. I found that out last night after I hung up the phone and finally Googled the man I’d just asked for help.
Henry Wilson. Thirty-three years old. Founder and CEO of Wilson Development. Net worth estimated at somewhere around two hundred million dollars.
Two. Hundred. Million.
Kyle’s family thought they were wealthy because his dad owned a small manufacturing company and they had a house in the nice part of town. Turns out the actual money was sitting quietly in the corner, drinking whiskey at family dinners and leaving early.
The elevator doors open on the fortieth floor, and a receptionist who looks like she belongs on a runway greets me with a perfect smile.
“Ms. Brooks? Mr. Wilson is expecting you. Right this way.”
She leads me through an office with modern art on the walls, high ceilings, and large windows overlooking the city. A water feature that makes soft trickling sounds like we’re in some kind of zen garden.
Then she opens a door, and there’s Henry.
He’s sitting behind a humongous desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. He looks different here. Less awkward than he did standing in my doorway with a fruit basket. More... in control.
“Katie.” He stands. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for not hanging up on me when I called you crying.”
A small smile. “Sit down. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”
“Whiskey, if you have it.”
His eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t comment. Just walks to a cabinet, pours two glasses, and hands me one before settling into the chair across from me.
I take a sip of the whiskey and find it incredibly smooth and obviously expensive, likely costing more per bottle than my entire weekly grocery budget.
“So.” Henry leans back, swirling his own glass. “You want to make Kyle pay.”
“Yes.”
“And you called me because...?”
“Because you’re the only person who believes me.” I meet his eyes. “And because you owe me.”
Something flickers across his face, signaling a sudden hint of either guilt or respect.
“Fair enough.” He sets down his glass. “What did you have in mind?”
Okay. Here goes nothing.
“I want to fake date you.”
Silence. Henry stares at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head.
“You want to fake date me,” he repeats slowly. “To get revenge on my nephew.”
“Yes.”
“And in exchange, I get...?”
“Forgiveness. For not warning me about the affair when you had the chance.”
More silence. He picks up his glass again, takes a long sip, sets it down.
“That’s it? That’s all you want from me?”
“I want Kyle to suffer.” My voice cracks. “I want him to watch me with someone better. Someone more successful. Someone who actually treats me like a human being instead of a possession he got bored with even if it’s scripted.”
Henry’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften.
“He’s still posting about me online.” The words spill out. “Every day there’s something new. A quote about mental health awareness. A vague comment about ‘toxic people.’”
I pull up my sleeve. The marks are purple and yellow now, finger-shaped shadows on my skin.
Henry’s jaw tightens.
“My landlord asked if I was ‘doing okay’ because someone told him I had a breakdown at my wedding. I can’t go to the grocery store without people whispering.”
“Katie...”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking for money. I just want him to see me happy. I want him to see me with someone who makes him feel small and insignificant for once in his miserable life.” I drain the rest of my whiskey. “And you’re the only person I know who can do that.”
Henry is quiet for a long moment. Then he stands and walks to the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at the city below.
“Kyle has been an embarrassment to this family since he was fifteen years old.”
I blink. “What?”
“He cheated on his SATs. Got caught stealing from his aunt’s purse.
Crashed three cars before he was twenty-one and blamed other drivers every time.
” Henry turns to face me. “But my sister always protected him. Made excuses. Paid off whoever needed paying. And because he’s her son, the rest of us looked the other way. ”
“I didn’t know any of that.”
“You weren’t supposed to. The Everettes are very good at burying things.
” He walks back to his chair but doesn’t sit.
“I’ve watched Kyle destroy people his whole life.
Ex-girlfriends. Business partners. Anyone who gets in his way.
And I’ve never done anything about it because family is family, right? That’s what we tell ourselves.”
His eyes meet mine.
“But what he did to you was different. You were going to be part of this family. You trusted him. And he didn’t just betray you, he tried to make you think you were insane for catching him.”
“He almost succeeded.”
“I know.” Henry’s voice is heavy. “That’s why I showed up at your door with that ridiculous fruit basket. Because I couldn’t live with myself anymore.”
“So you’ll help me?”
He remains quiet for another long moment until his expression shifts, signaling that his decision is firmly made.
“There’s a business conference this Saturday. Black tie. Very exclusive.” He pulls out his phone. “Kyle will be there. His father’s company is trying to secure a contract with one of the vendors.”
My heart starts pounding.
“I’ll send a car at seven.” Henry’s eyes lock onto mine. “Wear something red.”
“You’re saying yes? Just like that?”
“I’m saying Kyle has embarrassed this family for the last time.” His jaw tightens, and I see real anger in his eyes. “And I’m saying I’ve wanted to punch him in his smug face since he was fifteen years old.”
A surprised laugh escapes me.
“This doesn’t have to go any further than Saturday,” Henry continues. “One night. We show up together, let people talk, and see how Kyle reacts. If you want to end it after that, no hard feelings.”
“And if I don’t want to end it?”
Something flickers in his gaze. “Then we’ll discuss terms.”
***
Saturday night.
The black Mercedes pulls up to my apartment building at exactly seven o’clock. I’m waiting outside because Henry’s seen the state of my place once already. Once was enough.
The driver opens the back door, and Henry steps out.
He’s wearing a tuxedo that fits him like it was sewn directly onto his body. No tie, top button undone. I suddenly feel wildly underdressed even though I’m wearing the most expensive thing I own.
Well. The most expensive thing I own now.
Henry insisted on sending the dress. Said it was an investment in our cover story. I argued for about thirty seconds before I opened the box and saw what was inside.
The dress is a floor-length red silk with a slit running up to mid-thigh and a neckline that enhances my cleavage in ways I didn’t even think were possible.
Henry’s eyes travel down my body slowly.
“You look...”
“Ridiculous? Overdressed? Like I’m trying too hard?”
“Stunning.” His voice is low and sincere. “You look stunning, Katie.”
My face heats. “Thanks. You clean up okay yourself.”
He offers his arm. “Shall we?”
***
The venue is a rooftop garden at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. Waiters circulating with champagne.
Everyone in this room absolutely screams money, surrounded by designer gowns, jewelry expensive enough to fund a small country, and the kind of easy confidence that only comes from never having to worry about paying a single bill in your entire life.
I don’t belong here.
But Henry’s hand is warm on my lower back, and when he guides me into the room, he does it like I’m the most important person at this party.
“Remember,” he murmurs against my ear. “You’re not just my date. You’re my partner. Own it.”
“I don’t even own my apartment.”
“They don’t know that.” His breath is warm on my neck. “Shoulders back. Chin up. You’ve got this.”
I take a deep breath and straighten my spine.
We’re maybe ten steps into the room when I spot Kyle.
He’s standing by the bar with a drink in his hand, laughing at something the man next to him said. Erin is nowhere to be seen. Of course she isn’t. She’s not important enough for an event like this.
He hasn’t noticed us yet.
“Ready?” Henry’s voice is low.
“Born ready.”
We make our way through the crowd, and Henry starts introducing me to people.
CEOs. Investors. A state senator whose name I recognize from the news.
He calls me his partner and his companion.
His brilliant “friend” Katie who’s between opportunities right now but has the sharpest mind he’s ever encountered.
Each introduction builds me up a little higher. Makes me stand a little straighter.
An hour in, I’m actually having fun.
“The secret to these events,” Henry murmurs as we grab fresh champagne, “is that everyone here is faking it. They’re all terrified someone will figure out they don’t deserve to be here.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.” His smile is crooked. Almost boyish. “I spent my first five years in business convinced someone would tap me on the shoulder and tell me there’d been a mistake.”
“And now?”
“Now I own the building and have thousands of employees.” He shrugs. “Funny how that changes things.”
I laugh, and his eyes warm.
“That’s better,” he says softly. “You should laugh more.”
“Hard to laugh when your life is a dumpster fire.”
“Then let’s add some fuel.” His gaze shifts to something over my shoulder. “Kyle’s watching.”
My stomach drops.
“Don’t look.” Henry’s hand slides to my waist, pulling me closer. “Just follow my lead.”
He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is intimate and tender.
“Is he still watching?”
“He looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.”
We spend the next hour being absolutely, disgustingly couple-y. Henry fetches me drinks. Laughs at my jokes like they’re the funniest things he’s ever heard. At one point, he pulls me onto the dance floor and holds me close enough that I can smell his cologne.
He smells good, really good.
“You’re a natural at this,” I murmur against his shoulder.
“At what?”
“Pretending to be in love.”
His features betray a sudden flash of emotion before dropping right back into a mask.
“Pretending what?” he responds jokingly.
Before I can respond, a hand clamps down on Henry’s shoulder.
“Uncle Henry.”
Kyle’s voice is tight but his eyes are wild.
“We need to talk. Now.”
“I’m busy.” Henry doesn’t even turn around. “We’re dancing.”
“You’re dancing with my EX-WIFE.”
“I’m aware.”
Kyle moves around to face us, physically blocking our path. His sweaty face is flushed. He’s had too much to drink, I can tell.
“What the hell is this?” he hisses. “What are you DOING with her?”
I smile sweetly. “We’re dating, Kyle. Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“DATING?” His voice rises loud enough to turn heads. “You’re dating my UNCLE? That’s sick! That’s disgusting!”
“Is it?” Henry’s arm tightens around my waist. “Seems pretty normal to me. Two consenting adults who enjoy each other’s company. Like when you date someone’s sister.”
“She’s USING you!” Kyle’s face twists with rage. “Can’t you see that? She’s using you for your money!”
“And you used her while you fucked her sister.”
The statement completely shatters the room.
Freezing the nearby crowd and instantly killing the chatter, leaving the string quartet playing to a room full of people who are suddenly hyper-focused on us.
“That’s a LIE.” Kyle’s voice shakes. “She MADE THAT UP. She’s CRAZY, Henry, I told you, she has problems-”
“You told me at your party.” Henry’s voice is ice. “You brAGGED about it. You said Erin was ‘everything Katie wasn’t’ and you’d been taking her on dates for months.”
Kyle’s face drains of color.
“So don’t stand here and tell me she made it up. Don’t insult my intelligence.” Henry steps forward, and Kyle actually backs up. “You’re a liar. You’ve always been a liar. And the only reason I never said anything before is because your mother begged me to give you another chance.”
“You... you can’t...”
“I can. I am.” Henry takes my hand. “We’re leaving.”
“She’s a WHORE!”
The word rings across the rooftop.
Every single person in the room is staring now. Henry goes very, very still.
“What did you just call her?”
“A whore! That’s what she is! She’s been throwing herself at men since college, everyone knows it, and now she’s throwing herself at you because-”
Henry moves.
He moves with blinding speed, crossing the distance between them in an instant to grab a handful of Kyle’s collar and yank him forward.
“Call her that again.” His voice is deadly. “I dare you.”
“Get OFF me-”
“Call her that again, and I will destroy you. Not just socially. Not just professionally. I will dismantle every single thing you’ve ever cared about until there’s nothing left but rubble.”
Kyle’s eyes are wide, terrified.
“Do you understand me?”
“I... yes... yes, I understand-”
“Good.” Henry releases him with a shove that sends Kyle stumbling backward into a waiter. Champagne glasses crash to the floor.
Henry turns to me and offers his hand like nothing happened.
“Ready to go?”
I take it.
We walk out of the party together, Henry’s hand warm in mine, leaving Kyle standing in a puddle of spilled champagne with three hundred people staring at him.
The elevator doors close.
Silence.
The panic drumming in my chest and the sudden tremor in my hands have nothing to do with the fight. They’re entirely a reaction to the quiet heat of Henry’s thumb tracing small circles on my palm.
“I’m sorry about that,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“Are you kidding?” I turn to face him. “That was the most satisfying thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
A surprised laugh escapes him. “Yeah?”
“You should have seen his FACE. When you grabbed him? I thought he was going to wet himself.”
“He might have.”
We’re both laughing now, the tension breaking, and somewhere in the middle of it, I realize I’m still holding his hand.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “For tonight. For defending me. For... everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know. I want to, even if you’re just pretending to care.”
“I was not-”
The elevator dings and the doors open. Neither of us moves.
“Katie.” Henry’s voice is different now. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“This was supposed to be fake. That was the deal.” His eyes search my face. “But I don’t think I’m very good at pretending.”
My breath catches.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...” He steps closer. “I’m saying you deserve better.”
I look at him and I don’t see Kyle’s family.
I see the man who showed up at my door when I had nothing. Who believed me when no one else would. Who just threatened to destroy his own nephew for calling me a name.
“Okay,” I hear myself say.
Henry smiles.
And for the first time in months, I feel something other than anger.
I feel hope.