Episode 234
COLD AS ICE
Misty
I stare at the words, my skin prickling like I’ve been plunged into ice water.
I left something for you.
He used to say that. After punishments. After the “lessons.” He’d leave things. A flower. A coin. Once, a dead bird. Always with that same line, like a signature.
“Is it him?” Evangeline whispers.
“I don’t know.” My voice is low, uneven. “But it sounds like him.”
Her breath hitches. She clutches her belly.
I check the timestamp. Message came through two minutes ago. Whoever sent it could be nearby. On the island. Maybe even watching us right now.
“We need to find it,” I say.
She swallows hard. “Find what?”
“The thing he left.” I gesture to the phone, now trembling slightly in my hand. “We can’t ignore this.”
She nods, but I see the fear in her eyes. The same fear I used to see in my own reflection.
I step into protector mode. I have to. I couldn’t protect myself back then. Maybe I can protect Evangeline now. Pay her back for how I blackmailed her with the same information I used to get here to the island.
“Where have you been today?” I ask.
Evangeline blinks. “What?”
“Today. Where were you? Anywhere off-limits? Any deliveries?”
“Just the pool deck earlier. Then the loading dock when the florals came in. And I helped the spa staff set up the VIP cabana for Ariel and Alex tomorrow.”
Great. Lots of places. Too many people. Too many opportunities to plant…whatever was left.
“Let’s check your suite first,” I say.
She hesitates. “Misty, he can’t possibly be here. The guys have the best security in the business.”
“You think my father doesn’t have his ways?”
I say nothing more. I don’t have to.
We slip out the massage room like we’re being followed.
In my head is my father’s voice, all those years ago.
Hold it. Hold your breath. Want to cry? You do it underwater. No one wants to hear it.
Bastard made me drown in silence.
I’m not drowning anymore.
We reach Evangeline’s suite. She fumbles with the keycard, drops it, curses under her breath. I snatch it from the ground, swipe the lock, and push the door open.
We check the living area. Onto the bedroom.
And I see it.
A baby onesie.
Folded.
Neatly.
Placed on the dresser like a gift.
It’s white.
And burned at the edges.
Evangeline lets out a small gasp. “I didn’t buy that.”
“I know.”
There’s no note. No explanation. Just the ruined garment, like a warning.
I know your secret.
I left something for you.
It’s him. It has to be.
And if he knows about the baby?
Evangeline and my little sibling aren’t safe.
I clench my fists. “We’re not waiting around for him to make the next move.”
“What are we going to do?” Evie whispers.
I turn to her, heart hammering, and for once, I don’t feel like the coldest person in the room.
“I’m going to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.”
She looks at me like she’s seeing someone new.
Maybe she is.
Because I’m not afraid of my father anymore.
I’m just angry.
And that makes me dangerous.
Ask anyone.
Evangeline sits on the edge of the bed, her hands shaking, the way mine used to after one of his “lessons.” “What if he’s already watching us?” she asks, her voice thin, barely audible.
“He probably is,” I say. “But he wants you afraid. He wants you paralyzed.”
I walk over to the dresser and pick up the onesie. It’s singed along one sleeve, charred but not destroyed.
A statement. A message. I can reach you. I’m already close.
My throat constricts. Change erupts inside me. I’m done being the bitch in heels. The narcissist craving attention she didn’t get from Mommy and Daddy.
I’m my own person, raised by a man who tried to break me.
But I’m here. A little fractured maybe but still standing.
“You’re not alone in this,” I say to Evie.
She meets my gaze, her eyes brimming with tears. She’s always been composed. An elegant perfectionist. Matchmaker and event planner to the elites.
She’s none of that now.
“I thought he was just another powerful bastard,” she says. “They're all cold as ice. I've seen it before. One I could use for my own gain. One I could walk away from.”
“He’s not,” I say. “He doesn’t let go.”
She nods. “And the baby…”
“He always liked to wait,” I say. “Wait until you felt safe. Wait until you believed maybe, just maybe, you were finally out of his reach.”
“And then?” she asks.
I don’t answer. I can’t.
I move to the window. The sun is starting to dip, casting long golden shadows over the garden paths below. Staffers bustle in preparation for the bachelorette events, completely unaware that a predator might be among them.
“How did he find us?” she asks.
“Money talks,” I say. “Security here is tight, but it’s not impenetrable. All it takes is one staffer with debts or a grudge. One shipment delivery. One leak.” I pause. “Or someone who already knows.”
She frowns. “You mean one of the contestants?”
“Maybe,” I say. “But they didn’t hear it from me. Who else have you told?”
“No one,” she says, a little too quickly.
“Try again.”
She opens her mouth but the phone buzzes again, interrupting her.
Another message.
This one’s longer.
You were always good at running, Misty.
It’s addressed to me.
My hands go cold.
“Shit,” I mutter.
He’s not just watching Evangeline. Not just watching the baby.
He’s watching me.