“No!” she screams back, her chest heaving. “You and your friend are going to stay the hell away from me!”
If she wants a fight, I’ll give her one. I’m out of patience.
“Listen to me very clearly, Veronica Kayde.” My voice drops to a dangerous, low vibration. “Either you let my friend examine you, or I call Gabe and tell him every single detail about what happened tonight. Every. Single. One. And you know exactly what happens then. The freedom you’re so desperate to keep? Gone. He won’t send you back to your parents' house; he’ll lock you in one of his penthouses withtwenty-four-hour security at the door. You’ll never see the sun without a permit.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing here as Cam?” she chokes out, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “Watching me? Babysitting me? I thought we were becoming friends.”
“We were never friends.” The lie tastes like ash, but if I have to be the villain to keep her still, I’ll play the part. I can’t believe I’m stooping this low, but I keep twisting the knife. “Think of your mother, Veronica. She already worries about you as it is. Do you want her to find out the danger you were in tonight?”
Her eyes widen. I just hit the one nerve I promised myself I’d never touch.
“I hate you,” she says, her voice trembling as she enunciates every single syllable. “I hate you so fucking much.”
“Good. Use that if it keeps you going. Now sit down.”
“No,” she snaps, her chin lifting in a final spark of defiance. “I agreed to the exam, but I never agreed to stay here. He can do it at my place. Not here. Not near you.”
Twenty minutes later, I walk Tomas across the hall to Veronica’s apartment. I have the keys. I’ve always had the keys, but I decide to knock. When she opens the door, the sight of her gut punches me. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen. She’s gripping a glass of clear liquid, and the way she’s holding it tells me it’s definitely not water. She looks at Tomas, then cuts her eyes to me with freezing disdain. “Only he comes in.”
I’ll give her this one win. “Fine.”
Tomas heads inside, and Veronica slams the door in my face. I walk back to my own apartment; I contemplate pulling up the new camera that I installed in her living room. I did it after the whole sex-club fiasco,but I decide to give her and Tomas privacy. I need to get to work. I put on the glasses I use when working. A few minutes later, my front door opens. Tomas walks in and finds me hunched over my screens. He doesn’t wait for the question.
“She doesn’t have a concussion, but she’s going to be sore for a few days,” he says, his voice professional but strained. “I advised her to stick to over-the-counter pain meds. She doesn’t need more drugs.”
I snap my head toward him, my heart rate spiking. “What do you mean?”
Tomas sighs. “I’m not sure what she took before I got there, but she was definitely on something.”
“Tomas, I’ve watched Veronica for years. I’d know if she was an addict.” My voice is defensive; the instinct to protect her still overrides everything else.
“I’m not saying she’s an addict,” Tomas counters calmly. “I’m saying she was on something when I examined her tonight. Now, do you want to tell me what happened? Because she didn’t say a single word.”
Fuck.
I tell him everything: the stalking, the attack, the laptop, the phone call to Gabe. I’ve never felt judged by him before, but the look he's giving me now says what I already know: I crossed a line.
“I had to do something to keep her here,” I mutter, but even to my ears, it sounds pathetic. Using her mother against her was a low blow.
“Listen, Miles. I don’t have to be the one to tell you that was a shitty move. All of it was.” Tomas picks up his bag, his expression grim. “Maybe it’s best if someone else takes over. I’m sure Ian and Gabe can find another hacker to look into the photo and the blackmailer. It’s becoming too much for you, and I guarantee it’s already too much for her. Whenshe finally finds out what everyone has been keeping from her…well, it won’t be pretty.”
I spend the rest of the night scouring the footage of every moment leading to the attack. I scrub through the frames until my eyes burn behind my glasses. To my growing frustration, I find nothing. But I know I’m missing something. People like this don't just appear out of thin air; they leave a trail. I just have to find it.
I pull up a live feed of her living room. On the screen, she’s huddled on the couch. Crying. That isn't the work of her brothers or their overbearing rules. My words did that. My lies. But letting her know that "Miles" and "Cam" are the same person was never supposed to be an option. Tomas’s words replay in my head. He wants me to walk away, to let Ian or Gabe find someone else to handle this. But I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that I can't quit this. I won't. Someone has a target on Veronica’s back. I made a promise to protect her, and I intend to keep it, even if that means protecting her from herself. She already hates me. How much worse can it get? This isn’t the first time I’ve made her feel like shit about herself. A dark sense of déjà vu settles in my chest as I watch her sobbing. Only last time this happened, it was Cam who hurt her.
“Camilo Villanueva, I’m so happy you could make it.” Abigail Kayde pulls me into a warm, welcoming hug. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of years. Now that you and Gabe travel so much, it’s hard to keep up with either of you.” She places her hand on my cheek; it’s a motherly touch.
I pull back and offer her the practiced, charming smile of a man who has nothing to hide. I look over at my best friend, Gabe, who is standing next to his father, looking every bit the Kayde businessman.
“Well,” I say, my voice full of charm, “I figured I should get as much traveling as possible out of my system before I finally settle down and join the family business.”
She wraps her arm around mine, and I walk inside to where the party is getting underway. I pass Mr. Miguel Kayde, and I think he’s about to jump me. "That’s a great idea. Tell me, how is Colombia? And your aunt? Does she still live with you?"
“Colombia is good. I haven’t been home in a couple of months.” She looks at me with sympathy. “But I’ll be going back in a couple of weeks. For her birthday.” Mrs. Kayde knows who the “her” is. Tia Susana is living in the house. She’s going to be helping me with the business while she resides in Colombia.
Mrs. Kayde’s steps falter. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I just lost my step.” She smooths her dress, her gaze turning back to me. “Tell me, Camilo, what do you do with yourself when you aren't traveling or preparing to take over your grandfather’s empire?”
