Page 49

Angelique

I t’s strange how much can change in just seven days. A week ago, I stood on Marlow Bridge with the tips of my toes hanging over the ledge and my heart barely beating. I’d already said my goodbyes and decided there was nothing left for me here.

But now I’m slowly healing, clinging to life, learning how to breathe all over again.

It’s not perfect, because I still have my moments where I cry randomly, and I still wake up from nightmares soaked in sweat, but I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore.

I feel like I’ve surfaced, even if it’s just enough to catch my breath.

That’s what daily sessions of therapy for the past seven days has done. Every one of them hard and terrifying but also giving me a little more clarity. And today, for the first time in a long time, I feel something I haven’t felt in ages—hope.

I stare at the email glowing on my laptop screen, my fingers hovering over the trackpad.

The name of the lawyer Charlie found for me sits in bold at the top.

She’s one of the best in New York, known for her ruthless cross-examinations and her refusal to let abusers get away with just a slap on the wrist.

“She’s confident we can win,” I whisper out loud, more to myself than anyone else.

Reign is beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his thigh against mine while he scans the same email.

He hasn’t gone far from me this entire week, and sometimes I catch him watching me like I might vanish if he blinks too long.

If this had been a few days ago, maybe I would’ve, but right now I’m too angry. I want justice.

“Charlie really came through,” I murmur, scrolling down to the draft of the legal complaint already being put together.

The attorney isn’t just building a case against Alec.

She’s pursuing legal action against my mother and the company as well, citing gross negligence, failure to provide a safe working environment, wrongful termination in retaliation for reporting misconduct, and willful retention of an employee with a documented history of predatory behaviour.

“He always does,” Reign says quietly.

I nod, then lean back into the cushions, exhaling slowly.

“Do you still feel good about going forward with this?” he asks gently.

I glance at him. “Yeah. It’s time.”

His hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together. “Then we go all the way.”

He’s already pulled together everything he could find on Alec, and Charlie helped me draft the full affidavit.

Reign was even able to get his father to hire a private investigator to dig into Alec’s past, his finances, travel, every relationship he’s ever had.

It’s not just about me anymore. This entire case is for every girl Alec’s hurt and left in the dark .

Reign’s thumb brushes against mine. “The PI found one girl who filed a sexual misconduct complaint against him at a summer intensive five years ago. It got buried, but she’s willing to talk.”

I sit up straighter. “Seriously?”

He nods. “She says watching what you’re doing gives her courage.”

My throat tightens. “Do you think there’ll be more?”

He hesitates, then shifts a little closer. “The PI thinks he might’ve found a second victim. A girl from The Big Apple Company three years ago. She suddenly quit mid-season, no warning, never said why, but he tracked her down and she’s agreed to talk.”

Three years ago? I was still at the company three years ago. It’s the same year I became a principal dancer, which must mean the girl he’s talking about is Simone, Alec’s partner before me.

My stomach twists. “Is she okay?”

“She’s guarded,” he admits. “She said she’s not sure if she’ll go public, but she doesn’t want to stay silent anymore. She asked for your affidavit because she wants to read your words before she decides.

“Send it to her,” I whisper. “She deserves to know she’s not alone.”

Reign nods. “I already did.”

I stare at the laptop screen as it turns black in front of us and imagine the ripple effect this will have.

One truth bringing about another. All it takes is one voice to break the silence and I’ve spent too long being afraid of what speaking up would do to me and to those I care about, but now, I realize I should’ve been afraid of what staying silent was doing all along.

It wasn’t just eating me alive; it was letting him keep everything he took, but not anymore. I push off the couch and stand, stretching my arms over my head as I take a long, shaky breath. Reign watches me, waiting.

“I want to meet her,” I say. “If she comes forward, I want to be there. I want her to see my face. I want her to know what I didn’t know back then.”

“That you survive,” he says.

I nod, eyes stinging again. “Yeah. That you survive, and that surviving doesn’t mean staying quiet.”

He stands too, pulling me into him. His chin rests on the top of my head, and I close my eyes against his chest, letting myself soak in the safety of him for a moment longer.

I know what’s ahead won’t be easy. Lawsuits, headlines, cross-examinations, being dragged through the mud by Alec’s legal team—everything my mother warned me about.

But for the first time, I don’t feel like running. I feel like standing my ground.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers. “So, fucking proud.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face deeper into his shirt, letting that settle in my bones. His pride and my own.

We stay like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other in the quiet of the living room, the weight of everything finally beginning to shift. Not gone—but redistributed. Lighter.

And then, when I pull back and meet his gaze, there’s a fire in my voice I haven’t heard in myself in far too long.

“Let’s take him down.”

Reign’s lips curve into a half smirk. “Oh, we will.”