Noah’s father saw an opening and took it, but I have no one to blame but myself for the growing distance between Mason and I.
I know I need to come clean and leave him to deal with everything.
It’s the right thing to do, and now that my circumstances have changed, I have to stop being reckless.
I can’t bring myself to leave Olivia to her own devices, not just yet.
Not when it feels this good to have some sort of control.
I feel an almost pathological urge to see it through.
With Mason watching even more closely, I know time is running out.
He’s not wrong for wanting to keep you safe. You’re just annoyed because he isn't being unreasonable—you’re the one being reckless. You’re taking too big a risk.
I’m supposed to be the level-headed one.
I’m supposed to find a way out that doesn’t involve scheming and back-alley deals.
I’m not even sure what the hell I’m doing, or what I’m hoping to accomplish, because the deeper I get sucked in, the more I realize how ridiculous it all is.
Olivia means well, but her history with one of the warring families won’t be enough to make a dent, much less end the war.
Unless there’s something she isn’t telling you…
Olivia shoves a lock of hair out of her eyes. “I know it isn’t your fault, but look, we just need to cool our heels for a few days. I’ve got another plan, just in case this didn’t work out. It’s riskier, and it will take longer, but it beats the alternative.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
Olivia picks up her plate of half-eaten food and takes it to the sink. “It means no more playing dress-up until I know what’s happening.”
A lump rises in my throat. “I see.”
“Look at the bright side, at least Mason will be off your case for a bit.”
“What about…you know who?” I press. “She’s not going to get in any trouble or anything, is she?”
Olivia shakes her head. “She can handle herself, don’t worry.”
I move toward her, the marble kitchen counter still between us. “Alright. Why don’t you and I go anyway? Blow off some steam.”
“Everyone is on high alert,” Olivia says, “so I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Sorry.”
The protest dies on my lips as Olivia’s phone rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket.
She offers me a sympathetic smile and leaves the kitchen.
Once she’s gone, I walk over to one of the counters and reach for the coffee pot. I curl my fingers around the mug and take a few sips. Then, I shift so I’m standing closer to the window witha few particles of late-morning sun warming the bridge of my nose.
Without Olivia, I don’t have a hope of seeing Miss Deveroux without a good excuse.
You do not need to talk to her. The less you say for now, the better.
Miss Deveroux might be the only person who knows the truth about my pregnancy, but it doesn’t mean I should spill my heart out to her.
I don’t even know how I feel about the whole thing.
I finish half of my coffee before my stomach grumbles. Slowly, I pour the contents of my cup down the drain and hang my head. After several deep breaths, I bolt up the stairs and into Mason’s bathroom, where I empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
