Chapter Thirty-One
A Risk Worth Taking
Ariana
Present
Two days after the gala, while Nathan was out of town on business, Shane and Maven planned my escape.
Maven arrived just after dusk, her presence intentional and visible, her car parked squarely in the driveway beneath the cameras Nathan had installed to keep the world out and me in.
We ordered takeout, poured wine, and talked loudly about nothing in particular.
At one point, she posted a photo to her story, the two of us leaning together and giggling as we held up forkfuls of Thai noodles.
It set the stage perfectly, leaving digital footprints to prove I was in the house and nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
When we were sprawled out on the couch watching Bravo, she covertly passed me a burner phone hidden in a colorful box that should have housed macarons.
It did have one macaroon in there, and I plucked it out and ate it to hold up the charade as Maven smiled mischievously at me.
I turned my attention back to the TV, but read the note on the phone.
It was directions — how to set it up to forward calls and texts from my real one to it. And then there was one instruction loud and clear at the bottom.
Leave your phone here.
Maven left a little before ten, giving me a big hug right in the camera’s line of sight.
I stayed behind and followed my usual routine, careful not to rush it.
When I was in the bathroom, I set up the burner phone and tucked it into the back waistband of my pajamas.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and plugged my phone into the charger on my nightstand after sending a goodnight text to Nathan — all with my heart thudding in my throat.
I climbed into bed with a book and read for twenty of the longest minutes of my life.
The house settled around me, every familiar creak and hum easing into silence.
When I finally turned off the light and clicked on our white noise machine, I lay there in the dark, listening to my own breathing until even my nerves seemed to grow tired.
Only then did I move.
Tonight wasn’t about my permanent escape, although everything in my being wished that were the case. It was about solidifying a plan. It was about being patient and careful, about not making any wrong moves too soon.
But I would get to see Shane.
That was enough for me.
I slipped from the bed and crossed the house barefoot, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it would give me away.
The hallway was unlit. I tiptoed along the wall with the burner phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline.
The door we never used that connected to the side of our house was just beyond the nearest camera’s line of sight, something Shane had somehow clocked during the exec dinner, long before either of us had known how badly I would need that knowledge.
From the burner phone, I tapped into our security app, quickly disarming the system.
I unlocked the door as quietly as I could, opened it carefully, stepped into the cool night air, and quickly armed the house again.
I’d disabled the notifications to Nathan’s phone discreetly before he left, but he still had the app on his phone.
One look and he’d see whether the system was armed or not.
I prayed he didn’t pick that exact moment to look, that he wouldn’t dig too deep into the logs.
It was all a risk — this whole thing.
But it was a risk worth taking.
Maven waited down the road with her engine idling, the car dark and unobtrusive. I didn’t look back at the house as I walked toward her. I didn’t let myself hesitate. The door closed behind me, and with it, something tight and painful inside my chest finally loosened.
The drive to Shane’s passed in near silence, save for Maven asking if I was okay. I simply nodded, and she grabbed my hand and squeezed, a silent promise that it would all be okay somehow.
Shane was already waiting when we pulled into his driveway.
He stood there with his hands in his pockets, his posture rigid as if he were holding himself in place through sheer restraint.
The moment I stepped out of the car, that restraint gave way.
He crossed the distance in a few long strides and pulled me into his arms, solid and warm and unmistakably real.
I sank into him, my face pressed to his chest, breathing him in as he held me.
“You’re safe,” he murmured, though it sounded as much like reassurance to himself as it did to me. “Okay? Trust me. I’ve got you. I’ve thought this all through.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him no matter how he’d thought it through, none of us were safe from Nathan Black.
He kissed my hair before releasing me enough to thank Maven with a hug. Then he guided me inside, the door closing behind us with a soft, final click.
And I allowed myself to believe him.