Page 53

Kai

The Dallas Convention Center is packed, the kind of packed that vibrates in your bones—hundreds of bodies moving, talking, jostling.

The turnout is bigger than expected. Way bigger. Probably because someone in my agency had the bright idea to extend the signing into a Q&A session, then a goddamn workshop. A full-day event, when I only signed up for two hours.

Smart business move. Terrible fucking idea for my sanity.

By the time I finally return to my hotel room, my ears are buzzing from the leftover noise, and I’m tense from too many handshakes and photos. I roll my neck, stretching out muscles that are long overdue for a proper workout.

I used to be happy with this. This is the dream—people waiting hours in line just to meet me. The Chase Mitchell effect.

But now, all I feel is Nicole—like a phantom limb.

These past couple of weeks, watching her fight to hold together the fragile pieces of my broken relationship with Lana like they were her own to mend? It’s done something to me.

I don’t deserve it. But fuck, do I want it. Need it.

I grab my iPad, settling into the couch. I should text her, call her, hear her voice. But first, I load up the security app—the one syncing my phone to the remote surveillance system I set up.

Invasive? Perhaps. But I'd rather break a few boundaries than have to put another person's face through a wall for hurting those I love.

As the interface loads, my eyes skim the locations.

Manny’s dot is in the house. But it’s the other two dots that make my stomach tighten.

Nicole and Lana.

What the fuck?

I blink and refresh the screen. The dots are still there. In Valencia of all places.

I stare at the screen, my mind grappling with what doesn’t make sense. Neither of them mentioned Valencia.

A glitch. Maybe it’s a glitch.

I zoom in, waiting for the screen to recalibrate. But no, the two dots practically on top of each other at Lake Orange. At—I check my watch—nine p.m. in California.

Something shifts in my chest—a pulse of unease before my brain even understands why. Just as I’m about to call her, my phone vibrates. It’s Nicole.

I answer immediately.

"You are the most over-the-top man on earth, Kai Keoni.” She begins without preamble, her warm, playful voice pouring through the line, momentarily loosening the tight band around my ribs.

She’s happy and safe.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand over my jaw. "And you are the most unpredictable woman—speaking of,” my eyes locks on the screen. "What are you and Lana doing in Valencia?"

A beat. Then, a soft chuckle. "How the hell did you guess where we were?"

"Just answer the question."

A pause—half a second too long. "Oh my God,” Nicole groans. "You put a tracker on my phone, didn’t you? Kai, you're such a creepy stalker."

I smirk. "Just borrowing a leaf from your book, love."

Another chuckle. This time, I picture her face reddening.

"Ugh. Whatever, but you hey, can’t just track me everywhere and make grand gestures."

"I can. And I will."

"Kai, I’m serious—"

"What are you two doing there, anyway?”

"As if you don’t already know,” she sighs. "Barry and I are checking out the restaurant on the pier."

Barry. Not Lana. I sit forward. "Lana isn’t with you?"

"No, she’s at home.” Nicole’s voice is light but she hesitates before adding. "Today was emotional for her . . . we talked, and she’s been holding in a lot. Anyway, it was good for her to get it off her chest. I imagine she's refueling now."

Refueling. My pulse thuds against my skull.

"The fundraiser planning is in full swing,” Nicole continues. "She wants to do a water theme this time, and she thought Lake Orange might be perfect."

“I see.” A chill races down my spine, and I stop listening.

Lana’s phone is at the restaurant. But Nicole thinks she is at home. Has someone stolen Lana’s phone? Or worse, taken her?

Nicole keeps talking.

". . . by the way, Barry says hello."

I barely hear her. "Tell him I said hi."

She groans. "He’s currently too busy flirting with the waiter. Anyway, you should see this place at night. Totally unreal. It actually reminds me a little of—"

I switch my phone to speaker, letting her voice become background noise while my fingers fly across my phone keypad.

Me: Where is Lana? Need to know NOW.

Manny: ?

Me: It’s important.

Manny: So is tucking in the twins.

Me: I swear to God, Uncle.

Manny: Fine. She’s in bed.

Me: Are you looking at her right now?

Manny: What am I, a creep? No. I’m looking at her car. Happy?

Me: No. I’m not fucking around. Find her.

Nicole keeps going. "So the theme is supposed to be cleansing—her words, not mine. I was on the fence, but you know what? Now that I’ve seen it, I think it could work—"

I glance down, gritting my teeth when I see that Manny still hasn’t replied.

Come on, what’s taking so long?

"You still there, Kai?” Nicole’s voice pulls me back.

I blink, forcing myself back into the conversation. "Yeah, you’re on the fence.”

She snorts. "Well, of course, the function room can hardly take fifty guests—"

Finally, my phone vibrates with a new message.

Manny: Hmm. This is interesting.

Me: WHAT??

Manny: I called her and she said she was upstairs having a soak. Her door was locked. I picked the lock on a hunch.

I don't give a fuck if he rigged the door with dynamite.

Me: Is she there or not?

Manny: She's not, and I wonder why she lied.

I break out in a cold sweat. For once, I know one thing Manny doesn't.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to sound normal when I interrupt her chatter.

"Nicole."

"Yes?"

"I need you to leave that restaurant and have Barry take you to the police station. Now."

A pause. "The police station? Why the fuck would we go there?"

Because I can’t get there in time to save you, love. "I’ll explain later. Just trust me. Leave. Now."

She laughs. "Kai, you're not making any sense. You want me to go to the police station?"

"Exactly. Vin will meet you there."

"But we were just getting into the wine you sent—"

My pulse slams into my throat. "What wine?"

"What wine indeed!” Her voice is teasing. "The 1970 Rosé and hand-written card the waiter brought us. Don't think I didn’t recognize it. You had that same bottle in your cellar in Gstaad."

My vision tunnels. Shit. Shit. Shit. I brought that bottle back for Lana.

"Nicole. Did you open it yet?"

I hear the faintest sound—the clink of glass, the soft inhale of her taking a sniff.

"Of course, we just did,” she says lightly. “And from the way Barry’s eyes are practically rolling back, I’d say it tastes amazing."

The ground drops out from under me.

"Nicole. Listen.” I force the words past the ice in my throat. "Do not drink that wine."

A soft, wet sound. A swallow.

Too late.

My stomach twists into a brutal fist. “Fuck.”

"What is it, Kai?"

"It wasn’t me who sent you that bottle."

A beat of silence. Then her breath catches the exact moment it hits her.

“Kai.” Her voice is quieter now. Hesitant. Like she already knows the answer. "Please tell me you're joking."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "No, love."

A sharp clatter. The glass hits the table—hard. Then, a breath. Shaky. Shattered.

A whisper, barely audible. "Oh. My. God."