I turn to stare out the window, watching Boston's nightlife blur past in streaks of neon and shadow. Street vendors hawking late-night food, couples stumbling arm-in-arm, the occasional police car's lights reflecting off glass storefronts. The city I once knew intimately now feels like a stranger—familiar streets holding secrets I've spent years avoiding, corners where memories lurk like ghosts waiting to ambush me when I least expect it.
"Nothing," I say instead.
I close my eyes only to see her face again and have her words echo in my head, a broken record that won't stop spinning. "You actually believe—"
The unfinished sentence hangs in the air like a loaded gun. Together with "Your parents—" What was she going to say about my parents? The security footage flashes through my mind for the millionth time—grainy black and white images of her walking into my mother's closet. Taking those two necklaces from the jewelry box.
My jaw clenches. She took them. End of story.
A knot forms in my stomach, hot and tight as those words "Your parents—" and "You actually believe—" claw at something buried deep in my consciousness. Something I've refused to examine since that day I sat in my father's study, watching the security footage play on a loop.
"You good?" Ethan's voice breaks through the spiral.
I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging until it hurts.
What if—
No. I shut that thought down hard. But Isabella's eyes flash in my memory, bright with that same fierce truth they held when we were teenagers. When she promised she'd never lie to me.
"You actually believe—"
The unfinished accusation echoes, and that nagging feeling transforms into something darker.
I press my forehead against the cool window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of neon. The doubt has taken root now, and I can't shake it.
This is the last thing I need right now. With the media circus around my broken engagement barely contained and my parents breathing down my neck, I should be focused on damage control, not chasing ghosts from fifteen years ago.
But Isabella's unfinished sentences haunt me, refusing to let go.
I need to know what she wanted to say.
4
Ares
Boston's skyline stretches dark beyond my windows, save for the occasional high-rise light piercing the night. Rain streaks down glass, distorting distant city lights into watercolor blurs. The steady patter creates a melancholy rhythm that does nothing to quiet my mind. Isabella's unfinished accusation loops endlessly: "Your parents—"
What was she going to say?
The nightstand clock blinks 3:47 AM. I stare at the ceiling, close my eyes, but the darkness only sharpens memory's blade. That day—the day everything shattered—plays behind my eyelids like a movie stuck on repeat. Isabella and Evelyn being escorted from the estate. And me, frozen, watching as the two women I saw as family disappeared from sight.
"Did you really think she loved you?" Mother's voice cuts through time, dripping venom. "A servant's granddaughter? She saw dollar signs, not you. And you were foolish enough to let her close."
"Fuck." I sit up, raking fingers through my hair. Sheets pool at my waist as I grab my phone. Three missed calls from Father light up my screen.
I ignore them.
Sleep is a lost cause now. I throw off the tangled sheets and pace the room, my mind a battlefield of memories and questions. The night passes in a haze of restlessness—shower, whiskey, failed attempts at work emails. Nothing anchors me.
Hours later, I'm still trapped in my thoughts, perched in the leather chair by the panoramic windows of my suite. The city below stirs to life, oblivious to the chaos in my head. My reflection stares back at me—hollow-eyed and unshaven—a ghost haunting my own life.
The door opens, and Ethan strides in, coffee in hand, wearing that knowing smirk that begs for a fist.
"You look like shit," he announces, dropping into the chair across from me.
I accept the coffee, letting bitter match my mood. "Thanks."
He pulls out his tablet, his smile fading to something more serious. Screen-glow carves shadows across his face as he scrolls. "Did some digging. Want to hear what I found about her?"
