We reached the pavement.
The glass doors slid shut behind us, sealing off the last of the noise.
Fabrizio checked his watch, then added, ‘I’m only in Skyline until tomorrow. I’d love to hear from you before I go.’
I nodded. ‘I’ll think it over.’
He held my gaze a beat longer than necessary.
Then, tyres screeched against the curb. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel[f]ire.net
A black Maybach rolled to a stop half a metre from my boots.
The rear door swung open.
Black bomber jacket, vintage-wash jeans, dark sunglasses with thin gold frames.
His hair was messier than usual, fringe damp against his temples.
He moved to my side, one hand slipping into his pocket, the other adjusting his cuff.
His eyes, behind the lenses, were fixed on Fabrizio.
Cold. Measuring. Not friendly.
Ashton didn’t remove the sunglasses.
He raised his chin slightly and said, ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’
‘This is Fabrizio Marchetti,’ I said. ‘CEO of Valmont & Cie.’
Then I looked at Ashton.
His mouth didn’t move, but I knew what he wanted me to say.
I smiled and said, as casually as if it were old news, ‘And this is my husband. Ashton Laurent.’
The sunglasses didn’t shift, but I saw his cheek twitch.
His eyes—well, what I could see of them—crinkled faintly.
Still, the rest of his face stayed neutral.
Fabrizio offered his hand first. ‘Mr Laurent. I’ve seen your name all over the headlines lately. Didn’t expect to bump into you here.’
Ashton shook his hand briefly. ‘Hi.’
‘You’re not quite what I imagined. In a good way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
Ashton gave a single nod.
He glanced between us, then asked flatly, ‘Was this a work thing?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We were discussing Valmont & Cie’s autumn–winter launch for next year.’
Fabrizio caught on quickly. ‘We’ve wrapped up. I’ll leave you to it. My car’s here.’
A silver SUV pulled up beside us.
He raised two fingers to his ear in a mock phone gesture. ‘Don’t forget to call me.’
Then he got in and the car pulled away.
Ashton waited until the SUV disappeared down the block before yanking off his sunglasses. ‘Who was that?’
‘I told you. He runs Valmont & Cie.’
I ignored him, turned and shouted to Daniel, who was still loitering behind a food truck, ‘Go find dinner or something. I’ll cover it.’
Daniel gave a thumbs-up without turning around.
Ashton and I drove across town and stopped at a carrier shop.
I signed for the replacement SIM card with my old number.
As soon as I slotted it in, the phone buzzed.
I didn’t need to ask what it was about.
Franklin’s fraud case was moving faster than expected.
Last I heard, the Vances had burned through every contact they had trying to stall it.
Looks like they’d finally run out.
Caroline’s voice hit me before the screen even lit up.
High-pitched, breathless, full of fake tears. ‘You finally picked up! Are you really going to throw your own father in jail?’
‘That’s not up to me. That’s up to the cops and a judge.’
‘You—’ She cut herself off, dragged in a shaky breath, then switched tactics. ‘I’ll return the money. All of it. There’s no need to take it this far. Just—just talk to Ashton for me. Please?’
‘It’s already too late. Let the court decide. If he didn’t break the law, he won’t be convicted.’
Silence for a beat. Then she snapped. ‘Mirabelle Vance!’
Her voice turned sharp and fast, like she’d been waiting to go off the whole time. ‘You ungrateful little bitch. We raised you, we paid for everything, and this is how you repay us? You want your father in prison? You’ve got no conscience. If I’d known, I would’ve dumped you on some stranger when you were six!’
She didn’t stop. ‘It’s not like we’re refusing to return the damn money, but you have to destroy everything, don’t you? You and your filthy rich husband think you’re untouchable. Just wait. I’ll smash that pathetic little studio of yours to pieces if you don’t make him withdraw the charges!’
I held the phone steady.
If anything, I felt lighter.
The more she screamed, the more obvious it was that she’d lost control.
Which meant I’d finally taken it back.
There wasn’t an ounce of family left between us.
But if she really showed up at the studio—
I hung up and FaceTimed Priya.
She answered immediately, but the camera angle was off.
Her forehead filled most of the screen, too close.
Behind her, the floor looked trashed. Chairs overturned. Papers scattered. One of the velvet necklace busts lay face down.
I tensed. ‘What the hell happened?’
Priya sounded drained. ‘Your mum showed up with her whole pack. They were shouting the second they stepped in. I tried to stay calm, but then—then Preston backed me into a corner. He was about to grab me when Yvaine and her boyfriend walked in.’
‘Slow down,’ I said. ‘Tell me everything. From the beginning.’
She sniffed. ‘They came looking for you. Wouldn’t stop pushing me to tell them where you were. I said you weren’t in Skyline, that you were out of town. Your phone was off, so they thought you were hiding on purpose.’
‘They didn’t believe you?’
‘Of course not.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I told them you lost your phone. Caroline called you three times anyway. When you didn’t answer, she started screaming. Preston and Serenna followed me around the whole damn place, demanding I give them your location.’
‘Preston got physical. I told him to back off. He didn’t care. Cornered me behind the front desk and kept shouting in my face. Yvaine and Cade walked in just in time. She ran to pull me out. Cade tried to get between us, but Preston wouldn’t back down.’