Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Sophie
Piper stares at me across the small wrought-iron table for so long that I finally reach for my wine.
After I sip, I look at her. “I’m going to need you to say something.”
“I’m deciding whether asking you if you need help burying the bodies would be supportive or whether it would create too much paperwork for you.”
Despite everything, I laugh.
It feels strange in my throat.
The patio at Vino & Vine is one of our favorite places, and normally our happy-hour meetings are easy—two glasses of the house pinot noir, the charcuterie board we pretend is dinner, and Piper talking enough for both of us.
I’m so glad she’s here. I needed a friend more than I realized.
After our drinks arrived, she listened while I told her what happened in Vegas—the archive, Adrian, Voss’s message, and the truth about what Lucian and Caleb had done to Dad.
They hadn’t simply waited for him to destroy himself.
They had spent years learning exactly which pressures would move him and making sure another terrible option was always within reach.
“They were wrong, Soph. Completely, what-the-actual-fuck wrong.”
“Thank you for clarifying,” I say dryly, appreciating her love and support.
Our server sets down our charcuterie board, and Piper waits until he walks away before her gaze drops to my bare left hand.
“Where are your rings?”
I tell her how I walked out and left them behind at the penthouse.
Her expression softens.
“Don’t.” If she gives me too much sympathy, I might cry.
Piper takes an olive, then studies me in the unnerving way people do when they know exactly which subject you’re hoping they won’t mention.
“What was Vegas like?”
I blink. “I just told you.”
“No. You told me what you found out in Vegas.” She lifts her glass. “What was Vegas like?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Then it should be easy to answer.”
I hate her a little.
She knows it.
I look beyond the patio railing toward the passing traffic. “Wonderful.”
The word hurts.
Piper says nothing.
“We took a helicopter ride, ate tacos at this ridiculous place I loved. Lucian taught me baccarat.” My throat tightens. “And I found the cupcake dispenser at the Royal Sterling.”
“The cupcake dispenser?”
I nod as she nearly swoons.
We both laugh, and then she looks at me more seriously. “And how was your…” She clears her throat. “Private time.”
Heat moves into my face.
“Oh.” She nods. “Like that, was it?”
In protest, I raise my hand. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyebrows did.”
She reaches for a cracker. “Continue.”
I take a drink because there is no graceful way to say it.
“It was…” Stunning, amazing, hot, dizzying.
She waits.
But everything that happened in Vegas is mine.
For one short, spectacular stretch of time, I believed I’d found my happily ever after.
I look away and take a long drink, hoping to find my composure at the bottom of the glass.
If I hadn’t experienced all of that, maybe my life would be simpler.
“Oh God. Sophie…” Piper sets down her glass. “Did you fall in love with them?”
My chest constricts. “How can I possibly love men who did that to me?”
She says nothing.
I hate her knowing look. “What aren’t you saying?”
“Nothing.”
“Piper.”
She sighs. “You answered a different question.”
My throat tightens.
“I asked whether you love them. You told me why you shouldn’t.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, Soph. It really isn’t.”
For years I’ve told clients that feelings are information, not instructions. Fear does not automatically mean danger. Hope does not make an investment sound. Wanting something desperately does not make having it wise.
Apparently my professional insight is easier to apply when the disaster is happening to someone else. “I miss them.”
Piper reaches across the table and places her hand on top of mine.
“I wake up looking for them.” My eyes sting. And because we’ve been friends for so long, all my emotion comes bubbling out. “I keep expecting Caleb to put coffee beside me or Lucian to tell me I haven’t eaten enough. I hate that there’s no one there to annoy me.”
Her mouth twitches.
“Do not laugh.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“And I dreamed about them.”
She sobers.
I don’t tell her the details. Those belong to me.
But I remember reaching for both men, asking them not to leave, and waking with my hand stretched across an empty mattress.
“In that moment, I was happy,” I whisper.
“Oh, Soph.”
Tears blur my vision. “So yes… I love them.”
There.
The admission doesn’t change anything, doesn’t magically transform what they did into something romantic or forgivable.
It simply makes something I have been fighting finally stop fighting back.
I love them.
And they hurt me.
Both things are true.
Piper remains quiet while I wipe my eyes and take another drink. “Please, don’t tell me love conquers all and that everything will be okay, or that everything is for the best.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Or that because I love them, I should go back.”
“I would never insult you like that. This is heavy stuff, and only you can do what’s best for you.”
She gives me a minute to think before asking, “Have they contacted you?”
“No.”
“Come by?”
“No. But Hawkeye Security contacted me to find out if I was okay with continuing the security at my office, and they told me Caleb and Lucian gave up their access to the feed.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The call from Inamorata had shocked me. She recommended keeping the security in place since I’m still married to two very high-profile men, but anything unusual would now be reported only to me.
“And they’re not insisting I use their driver, even though he texts every day to let me know he’s available. ”
Piper nods. “So they’re doing what you asked.”
“So far. But that doesn’t mean they’ve changed.”
She leans back in her chair.
Oh God. I drop my head into my hands. “What am I going to do?”
“You don’t have to decide tonight. Or tomorrow. Or even next week.”
My instinct is to argue.
To analyze.
To turn everything I feel into something measurable enough to produce a conclusion.
But there isn’t one.
Not yet.
I love Lucian and Caleb.
What they did was wrong.
I miss them.
I’m still angry.
And she’s right. None of those truths requires me to do anything tonight.
Piper lifts her glass.
“To not knowing.”
“That may be the worst toast you’ve ever made.”
“Drink anyway.”
I clink my glass against hers.
For once, I let my question remain unanswered.
My phone buzzes against the tabletop.
My heart suddenly thundering, I look at the screen.
Mom.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m relieved it isn’t Lucian or Caleb. And I’m stupidly disappointed too.
My beautiful girl. I love you more than all the stars in the sky.
My chest tightens. Once more, she must be having trouble sleeping through the night.
Then another message appears.
And, sweetheart? Tell Lucian and Caleb thank you for what they just did.