Am I?
I shake my head, my senses razed thin due to the whiskey soaking my throat.
Sebastian texted me a while ago. Cece and I had just entered my apartment, neither of us breaking the strange silence that had wrapped around us.
But I’d noticed her fingers persistently resting on my wrist. My steady pulse was probably the only reason she didn’t think to question my unnatural quietness.
Sometimes I think I should give her access to my smart watch’s health stats. I rarely take it off, and she can easily see if my pulse spikes at any given time. But that would put another burden on her shoulders when she already has so many.
I take a quick swig of my whiskey. It wasn’t ideal or even habitual for me to be drinking in the afternoon. But I desperately needed to get rid of this uneasy sorrow building in my chest.
I can’t be mourning monsters, can I?
Glancing up, I stared at the hallway, a different kind of desolation filling me. Cece’s there. Just beyond that darkened corner. Being in a place she expressly doesn’t want to stay at.
I know she wants to go back to her apartment. But according to Seb, her place is swarming with reporters. Same for her parents’ house.
I hope Vivienne is safe in Kingston. Samuel definitely would’ve hired security for his precious daughter.
My mind drifts again. The vultures need a story. Especially since the Astor estate is empty and mylocation details are locked up tighter than ever.
I’ve kept my life fairly out of the tabloids. It was a decision I’d made when I turned eighteen. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t randomly pictured with a date every now and then.
And once Cece and I started dating, I’ve tried to keep our personal details out of them—as much as I could.
All this confinement… and this is where I end up.
As the last remaining face of a decades-long, nasty scandal.
Fuck.
I wouldn’t lie. I didn’t know half the charges slapped on my parents, Gareth, and Charles. And there’s a part of me that’s unable to register the severity.
It doesn’t matter what I think, though. I trust Blackthorn. And I trust Cece.
If it wasn’t for her, I’d be trapped in that mechanical numbness of the Astor presidency.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted this. I still want the presidency. But it came with a tightly coiled labyrinth of corrupted bureaucracy that I was having trouble navigating through.
And when Cece found a tiny, out-of-place knot, she pulled at it. Unraveled it. Collapsing their hidden empire with it.
I wonder if she’s sleeping soundly now. Her eyes were jittery yet heavy the moment we’d changed out of our clothes. She didn’t even do her skincare before collapsing on our bed, groggily pulling at the duvet.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I ignore it again. My lawyers and the board haven’t left me alone for more than two minutes—at least technologically.
I’m not sure if I’m interested in fielding their questions right now.
The only thing I was interested in was Sebastian’s last message.
Sebastian: CSIS has handed over the case info to RCMP. As have I. The other four hive businesses will go down this week. Also, your parents requested the lawyers on your Astor Holdings retainer. I’ve blocked them out of it.
Good. They won’t be getting any support under the Astor name. Not on my fucking watch.
A second later, it’s Cece’s phone that buzzes next to mine.
I see‘Favorite Dongsaeng’flashing on the screen. Even with the bleakness of the situation, I find a reluctant smile pulling at my lips.
“She’s sleeping…Dongsaeng,”I deadpan when I answer.
