Chapter 22
Stella
The house had never felt emptier with Tate gone, and I hated that he’d walked out the door and taken something vital with him, leaving me with an ache that settled deep in my chest and refused to fade.
I missed him with an intensity that overwhelmed me. The way he listened when I talked, and how he challenged me, pushed me, and refused to let me shrink into the version of myself my parents preferred. And especially, the way his hands felt on my skin, so dominant and reverent all at once.
But now wasn’t the time to fight for him.
I knew that. There was still a threat hanging over my family, still an investigation that required focus and clarity.
Chasing after Tate, demanding answers, forcing a confrontation—it would only complicate things further.
It would distract him from the work that needed to be done.
So I would wait. I would be patient—sort of—but the moment this case was closed, the moment the danger had passed and he no longer had professional obligations standing between us, I wasn’t going to let him hide.
I wasn’t going to let him retreat into noble self-sacrifice or allow him to believe that walking away was somehow the right thing to do for whatever reason he’d told himself.
Xavier, my new bodyguard, seemed competent enough, but he kept to himself and radiated an unmistakable displeasure at being reassigned to my detail.
I got the impression there’d been some emergency shuffling at Noble and Associates because of Dad’s demands—people pulled from other assignments, schedules disrupted, all because my father couldn’t stand the idea of someone believing in me.
That guilt gnawed at me constantly. I hoped Tate wasn’t in serious trouble.
As far as I knew, no one had discovered the truth about our relationship—the real one, not just the investment offer.
Mom and Dad were so fixated on the money that it apparently never occurred to them there might be something else going on.
Between the worry and the anger, I felt more stir-crazy than ever. Xavier wouldn’t let me leave the property for anything and after three days trapped in the house I was starting to feel restless.
Then Bridget texted me. Hey! There’s a fun new club opening tonight and my friend gave up her VIP tickets to let us in early at five pm. Want to be my plus one?
I wasn’t really the clubbing type, but I was ready to do almost anything if it meant escaping these walls.
And, I’d told Bridget I wanted to get to know her better—it would be important for her to have an ally if she was going to pursue a relationship with Charlie.
I’d defended her to my parents, but Dad remained convinced they’d fizzle out, and Mom was still firmly opposed to Bridget, as well.
Would it be irresponsible to give my bodyguard the slip and go out for a night on the town? Absolutely. Was I tempted? God, yes.
Something rebellious had ignited in me over the past few weeks, a defiance I’d never known I possessed. After years of having my desires dismissed, my dreams belittled, and my choices overruled, I was sick of being the obedient daughter. Tired of asking permission to live my own life.
I really shouldn’t go out, I texted back, trying to do the responsible thing. Charlie probably told you about everything going on with my family. I need to stay in.
But your bodyguard can come with you, right?
I sighed, because Xavier had made it clear that I was not to go anywhere. He won’t let me leave, I told Bridget.
But if you go out, he’d have to follow you, wouldn’t he? He’s not going to just sit at your house while you’re out alone.
She had a point. When I’d fled the house that first time, Tate had caught up with me almost immediately and I had no doubt Xavier would do the same.
And if I got far enough ahead that he had to follow me to the club, well…
I’d already be out. He’d just have to stay close and keep me protected.
It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like I’d be truly alone if he was there, too.
Another text came through while I tried to justify a night out: Charlie told me about your fight with your parents.
For what it’s worth? I think you’re absolutely right.
It’s wonderful that you found someone who believes in your business.
I had to claw my way up too, and I know how much it hurts when someone in power crushes your hopes and dreams.
Something about the phrasing struck me as oddly intense, but I brushed it aside. Bridget had struggled. She clearly understood what it felt like to have obstacles thrown in your path by people who should have helped you.
Thanks so much, I replied. That means a lot.
There’s still a few hours. Let me know if you change your mind. I can pick you up.
I’ll think about it.
I spent the rest of the afternoon at war with myself. Every time I picked up my phone to tell Bridget I couldn’t do it, I found myself unable to send the message.
Part of me just wanted this threat to be over. I was almost tempted to flush out whoever was stalking me, force them out of the shadows and into the open where they could finally be dealt with. I wanted this nightmare to end, one way or another, so I could see Tate again.
Maybe that recklessness was what finally tipped the scales.
Let’s do it, I finally told Bridget.
I chose a dark pink dress that skimmed just above my knees and chunky heels so my feet wouldn’t be destroyed by morning, trying not to think about the fact that I was potentially about to do something monumentally stupid.
Sneaking out was easier than expected, now that I understood our security system better. Xavier would notice I’d escaped—I was counting on that. The key was getting enough of a head start to reach Bridget’s car before he could stop me. Once I was mobile, he’d have no choice but to follow.
I texted Oliver too, letting him know where we were going so he could join us.
I wasn’t sure if he could get a ticket last minute, but having another ally there would make me feel safer.
Oliver couldn’t fight—the man went to the gym but I doubted he’d ever thrown a punch in his life—but his presence would be comforting nonetheless.
I slipped through the neighbor’s backyard and emerged onto the street, walking with the confidence of someone who belonged there. My heart hammered against my ribs. I kept waiting for Xavier’s shout behind me.
Bridget grinned when she spotted me, leaning over to pop open the passenger door of her little blue car. Just as I slipped inside I heard it—
“Miss Hayward!”
“Step on it,” I told Bridget, and with a laugh she did.
Oliver texted back. Can’t guarantee a ticket but I’ll meet you there. Are you sure you should be going out?
It’s fine, I said, with more confidence that I actually felt. See you there.
“Oliver’s going to meet us there,” I told Bridget.
Her expression flickered with annoyance that she quickly smoothed away. “Oh. I thought it would be a girls’ night? Get to know each other better?”
I smiled at her. “I totally get that. I just think we should have another guy around, just in case. He can hang back, give us space.”
“I suppose that’s smart,” she agreed, though something in her tone suggested she wasn’t happy with the arrangement.
It was probably hard to fathom just how careful you had to be when someone was stalking you, if you’d never experienced it yourself.
I shouldn’t even be out here—I knew that.
But something reckless had taken hold of me, some desperate need to reclaim control of my own life after weeks of being hemmed in and having every choice made for me.
Bridget glanced in her rearview mirror. “Your bodyguard is following us.”
“Good.” Exactly as planned. Even if we lost him in traffic, I knew Tate had put a tracking device on my phone and Xavier would find me. “Just head to the club.”
I wondered if Xavier was calling Tate right now, reporting my escape. The thought sent a complicated thrill through me—part guilt, part hope. Maybe Tate would come himself. Maybe he’d show up and drag me home and I’d get to see him again, even if he was furious with me.
We drove into the heart of Las Vegas, keeping Xavier’s car at a distance, but we seemed to lose him at a red light that she ran and he was forced to stop at. Bridget bypassed the club and pulled into a street parking lot, sliding into a spot next to a sleek black rental car.
“Shouldn’t we use the club’s valet?” I asked as we got out, then immediately winced. Valet was expensive and not everyone could afford to be frivolous with money.
“Nah, the club’s just around the corner. A short walk won’t hurt us.” Bridget grinned and linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go have some fun.”
Oliver was waiting outside the club when we arrived. Bridget flashed her two VIP tickets at him. “Unless you’ve got one of these...”
Oliver grinned. “I’ve got something better.”
He approached one of the bouncers and struck up a conversation, all easy charm and flirtatious smiles. Bridget handed her tickets to the other bouncer, who examined them and waved us through. As we entered, Oliver slipped in beside us.
“What did you do?” Bridget asked, and I didn’t miss the slight irritation in her tone. She clearly did want this to be a night out with just us girls.
“Flirted shamelessly.” Oliver winked. “Let’s get some drinks, shall we?”
The club assaulted my senses immediately—pounding bass that vibrated through my chest, the overwhelming smell of alcohol and perfume, bodies packed so tightly the air itself felt heavy. I remembered instantly why I didn’t do this often.
But after a drink or two, I knew I’d relax. I’d have fun. And I probably wouldn’t be here long anyway. Surely Xavier would find a way in and demand I go home. I should enjoy myself while I could.