Chapter 12
Sebastian
I'm going to kill whoever told my father about Isla.
He cornered me on the balcony twenty minutes ago, I'd gone out looking for Isla, only to find him instead and I've been standing here listening to him dismantle everything I've built with her.
"—some passing infatuation with a girl who's clearly using you?"
Every word out of his mouth is a knife. Not because I believe him. But because I know exactly how this ends. My father always wins. That's what Thornhills do.
"She's not using me," I say, but even I can hear how weak it sounds.
"Sebastian." His voice shifts to that particular tone, disappointed, condescending. "I've had people looking into her. Her background, her family situation, her financial status. Do you know what they found?"
He recites facts I already know, Isla's mother, her sister's medical bills, the financial strain her family lives under daily. Things she told me herself because she trusted me with them.
Now my father is using them as weapons.
"Her mother is drowning in medical debt. Her sister has ongoing health issues that cost thousands monthly. And conveniently, right after you bid on her, she suddenly has money to spare. Money she's been sending home."
Of course she sent it home. That's who Isla is. She takes care of her family. It's one of the things I—
"That doesn't mean—"
"It means exactly what you think it means. She saw an opportunity and she took it. And I can't entirely blame her, she's a smart girl, clearly. But I can blame you for being naive enough to fall for it."
Naive. Like I'm a child who doesn't understand the world.
"You're wrong about her."
But there's a split second, barely perceptible where I hesitate. Not because I doubt Isla. But because I'm so conditioned to believe my father, to trust his judgment, that my brain stutters before my heart can catch up.
That hesitation is a mistake.
"Am I? Then let me share one more piece of information.
" He leans in, and I can smell his expensive cologne.
"One of your friends was kind enough to fill me in on some conversations she overheard.
Isla bragged to her friends about how easy it was to 'land a Thornhill.
' How this was her ticket to job prospects, connections, a better life after graduation. How she had you completely fooled."
No.
Absolutely not.
Isla would never say that. Never even think about it. I've held her while she cried about belonging, listened to her talk about her dreams that have nothing to do with me or my name.
"I don't believe you."
"Then you're a fool. But I'm not going to stand by and watch you throw away your future for a gold-digger."
Gold-digger. The word makes my blood boil.
"She's not—"
"I'm giving you a choice, Sebastian." He cuts me off, and now the threat is explicit.
"End this tonight, publicly, and I'll forget this whole embarrassing episode.
Or continue with this girl, and I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what she is.
I'll expose her scheme, her family's situation, everything.
I'll ruin her reputation at this school so thoroughly she'll have no choice but to leave. "
The world narrows to this moment. This choice.
Him or her. The legacy or the girl. Everything I've ever known or everything I've discovered I could be.
"You wouldn't."
But I know he would. My father doesn't make empty threats.
"Try me. Thornhills protect their own. And right now, I'm protecting you from yourself."
I should tell him to go to hell. Should defend Isla immediately, completely, without hesitation.
But I'm frozen. Caught between twenty-one years of conditioning and two weeks of freedom.
"I need to think," I hear myself say.
The words are ash in my mouth. Betrayal in three syllables.
"You have until midnight. That's when I'm scheduled to give my donor speech. If you haven't ended this by then, I'll do it for you. Publicly."
He leaves me on the balcony, alone with my cowardice.
I grip the railing so hard my knuckles turn white. Try to breathe through the panic.
I need to find Isla. Need to tell her what just happened. Need to figure out who lied to my father and why.
I head back inside, scanning the ballroom for her red dress. She's not at our table. Not by the bar. Not on the dance floor.
My phone buzzes. Marcus.
Marcus: Your father is here. Looking murderous. What happened?
Me: He knows about Isla. Someone told him lies. He's threatening to destroy her if I don't end it.
Marcus: Who told him?
Me: I don't know. But I'm going to find out.
I spot Harrison by the photography backdrop and make my way over.
"Have you seen Isla?"
"Not in a while. Twenty minutes maybe?" He looks concerned. "Everything okay?"
"No. My father's here and someone's been feeding him lies about Isla. Who would do that?"
Harrison's expression shifts. Guilty.
"Harrison. What do you know?"
"I didn't think—" He stops. "Look, Vivienne mentioned to her mother that you were serious about this girl. Her mother plays tennis with your father. I think that's how he found out you were at the gala together."
"That's how he knew to come. But someone told him specific things. Conversations Isla supposedly had. Things she supposedly said about me."
"I don't know anything about that. But…" He hesitates. "Tyler's been acting weird tonight. And his date, Chelsea? She's been circulating, talking to people, asking questions about Isla."
Chelsea. Tyler's date. The same girl who was bitter that I won the auction instead of Tyler.
"Where is she?"
"I saw her heading toward the restrooms maybe five minutes ago."
I find Chelsea in the hallway outside the women's restroom, touching up her makeup.
"Sebastian! Having a good night?"
"Cut the bullshit. What did you tell my father about Isla?"
Her smile falters. "I don't know what you're—"
"Don't lie to me. He said someone overheard conversations. Someone told him Isla was bragging about landing a Thornhill. That was you, wasn't it?"
Her face flushes. "I was just being honest about what I heard—"
"You didn't hear anything because she never said it. You made it up."
"I didn't make anything up! She—" Chelsea stops. "Fine. Maybe I filled in some blanks. But everyone's been thinking about it. She's obviously using you. I was just trying to help you see that."
"Help me? You potentially destroyed her reputation and our relationship because you were jealous?"
"I wasn't jealous! I was trying to save you from making a huge mistake." She crosses her arms defensively. "Tyler should have won her. You humiliated him by bidding so high. This was supposed to be payback."
"Payback." I'm vibrating with rage. "You ruined, you might have just ruined everything because Tyler's ego couldn't handle losing an auction?"
"It's not just about that. You're Sebastian Thornhill. You're supposed to be with someone appropriate. Someone from our world. Not some scholarship student who—"
"Get out."
"What?"
"Get out of this gala. Now. Before I have security remove you."
She stares at me, shocked. Then grabs her clutch and stalks away, muttering about how I'll regret this.
I don't care about her. Don't care about Tyler or his wounded pride. I only care about finding Isla and fixing this.
I pull out my phone and call her. It goes straight to voicemail.
Text: Isla, where are you? I need to talk to you. It's important.
No response.
I search the ballroom again. Check the bathrooms, the coat check, the lobby. Nothing.
My phone buzzes. But it's not Isla. It's Ivy.
Ivy: If you hurt her, I will end you. And not metaphorically.
My blood runs cold. Why is Ivy texting me? How does she know something's wrong?
Me: Where is she? Is she okay?
Ivy: She's with me. And no, she's not okay. What did you do?
Me: I didn't do anything. My father—it's complicated. I need to talk to her.
Ivy: She doesn't want to talk to you.
Me: Please. Just tell me where you are.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Ivy: North balcony. But if you're not here to grovel and fix this, don't bother coming.
I run.
The north balcony is on the opposite side of the building. When I get there, I find Isla sitting on a bench with Ivy standing guard like a protective lioness.
Isla's face is streaked with tears. Her makeup is ruined. She looks devastated.
And I did this. My hesitation, my father, my world, I did this to her.
"Isla—"
"Don't." Her voice is hollow. "I heard everything. Your father's threats. His lies about me. And you—" Her voice breaks. "You said you needed to think."
Fuck.
"You were there. On the balcony."
"I heard everything."
"Then you know I was trying to figure out how to handle it. How to protect you—"
"Protect me? By considering ending things? By hesitating when your father said those horrible things about me?" She stands, and Ivy moves beside her. "I waited for you to defend me immediately. To tell him he was wrong. But you didn't. You said you needed to think."
"Because I needed to figure out who lied to him! I needed time to—"
"You needed to decide if I was worth fighting for." Her eyes are hard now. Hurt crystallized into anger. "And apparently, I'm not."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it? Your father gave you an ultimatum. Him and your legacy, or me. And you couldn't answer immediately. You had to think about it."
"Isla, please—"
"I was so stupid." She's talking to herself now, not to me. "I thought you'd changed. Thought you were different. But you're the same Sebastian Thornhill you always were. When it matters, when you have to actually sacrifice something, you choose the legacy."
"I choose you!"
"Now. You choose me now. After you've had time to think about it. After I've already seen that moment of doubt." She wipes her eyes, smearing mascara. "That's not how love works, Sebastian. When someone you love is threatened, you don't pause. You don't consider. You defend them immediately."
"I was trying to be smart about it—"