Then they find me.
Standing on a balcony, watching.
He smiles.
And he begins walking toward Poppy.
“Hold position,” I say. “Let him approach. Don’t intervene unless he tries to harm her.”
“Julian—” Elena starts.
“Those are my orders.” My hands are white-knuckled on the railing. “Poppy can handle this. She needs to handle this.”
I watch Damien close the distance. Watch Poppy set down her champagne glass. Watch her remove her sunglasses and turn to face him with that stubborn set to her jaw I’ve come to love.
She doesn’t run.
She doesn’t call for help.
She faces him.
Damien sits on the lounge chair beside her. Casual as anything. Like they’re old friends catching up.
I can’t hear what they’re saying from here. Can’t read their lips at this distance. But I can see Poppy’s body language—the way she holds her ground, the way she meets his eyes without flinching.
“Marcus.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “Can you get audio?”
“Working on it. The directional mics aren’t positioned for that section of the pool. I’m working on switching you to Poppy’s open mic.”
I stand frozen on the balcony, watching the woman I love face a monster I created.
Unable to help. Unable to intervene. Trusting her to handle what comes next.
This is either the bravest thing I’ve ever done or the most foolish.
Probably both.
CHAPTER 23
POPPY
There’s something deeply surreal about sipping champagne at a poolside bachelorette party while two vampires pretend to be normal resort guests.
Elena has been “reading” the same page in her book for forty minutes. I’m not even sure she’s noticed it’s upside down. Sofia is doing yoga on a mat near the entrance, holding poses that would make my muscles scream after thirty seconds. She’s been in the same one for fifteen minutes without so much as a wobble.
Meanwhile, I’m surrounded by Violet’s college friends, all of whom are at various stages of tipsy and very interested in my love life.
“So the video,” says Madison—or maybe Morgan, I’ve lost track. “The one where he carries you into the ocean? That has like two million views now.”
“Two million?” I nearly choke on my champagne.
“Girl, you’re trending. #MysteryMan is everywhere.” She fans herself dramatically. “Where did you find him? Is he real? More importantly, does he have brothers?”
“We met on a dating app,” I say, which is technically not a lie. “And yes, he has brothers, but I haven’t met them yet.”
“Dating app?” Another bridesmaid—not sure of her name either—shakes her head. “I’ve been on every dating app in existence and the best I’ve found is a guy who listed ‘breathing’ as a hobby. Meanwhile, you get... that.”
She points to a picture of Julian on the phone, with “that” of course being Julian. Mysterious billionaire. Secret vampire. Currently watching me because he’s incapable of not worrying.
