The door opened.
Not the way doors usually open. This was different. Deliberate. Like whoever was on the other side owned the air itself.
Darius's head snapped up. He was still on his knees. Still shaking. The color hadn't come back to his face.
Footsteps. Slow. Even. The kind of footsteps that don't hurry because they don't have to.
I turned my head.
A man stepped into the room.
Tall. Gray suit. No tie. His hair was silver at the temples. His face was carved from something harder than stone. He looked at me first. Just me. His eyes swept over the silk around my wrists, the coat someone had thrown over my body, the tear tracks on my face.
His expression didn't change.
But the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
"Alistair Hamilton," Darius whispered. His voice broke on the name.
My father didn't look at him.
Behind him, men in black filled the doorway. Six of them. Maybe more. They didn't speak. Didn't move. They just stood there like a wall.
Alistair walked to the bed. He untied my wrists himself. His hands were steady. Gentle. He draped the coat higher over my shoulders and stepped back.
"Can you stand?" he asked.
His voice was quiet. Calm. Like we were in a living room somewhere. Like I wasn't naked and shaking on a crime lord's bed.
I nodded. Pushed myself up. My legs wobbled but I locked my knees and stayed upright.
Alistair turned.
Now he looked at Darius.
Darius made a sound. Something between a whimper and a prayer. He pressed his forehead to the floor. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. If I'd seen the crest—if I'd known she was yours—"
"She's not mine," Alistair said. "She's hers."
Darius lifted his head. Confused.
Alistair's gaze shifted. Landed on Kaysen.
Kaysen was frozen. Pressed against the wall. His face was white. His mouth was open but nothing was coming out.
Rayna was beside him. She'd stopped leaning. Stopped smirking. Her arms were wrapped around herself like she was cold.
"You," Alistair said.
Kaysen flinched.
"You drugged my daughter. Stripped her. Tied her to a bed." Alistair's voice didn't rise. Didn't need to. "And offered her to him."
Kaysen's mouth moved. No sound.
"For a pianist's hands," Alistair continued. He said it like he was reading a grocery list. "You sold your fiancée's body to protect another woman's career."
"I—" Kaysen's voice cracked. "I didn't know who she was. I swear I didn't—"
"No," Alistair said. "You didn't."
Silence.
Then Darius moved.
He lunged. Fast. Faster than a man his size should move. His hand closed around Kaysen's throat and slammed him into the wall. Kaysen's head cracked against the wood. His eyes went wide.
"I'll kill him," Darius gasped. He was squeezing. Kaysen's face was turning red. "I'll kill him right now. I'll prove my loyalty. I'll—"
"Let him breathe."
My voice.
Everyone stopped.
Darius looked at me. His hand was still around Kaysen's throat but he wasn't squeezing anymore.
I stepped forward. The coat slipped off one shoulder. I pulled it back up. Looked at Kaysen.
His eyes were streaming. His mouth was open. Gasping.
"He needs to be conscious," I said quietly. "For what comes next."
Darius let go.
Kaysen collapsed. Hit the floor. Coughed. Choked. His hands went to his throat.
I watched him.
Felt nothing.
Alistair gestured. Two of the men in black stepped forward. They grabbed Kaysen under the arms and hauled him up. He tried to stand. Couldn't. His legs gave out. They dragged him.
Rayna made a sound. A small broken sound. She tried to step back but there was nowhere to go. Another man grabbed her arm. She pulled. He didn't let go.
"Wait," she said. Her voice was thin. High. "Wait, I didn't—"
No one answered.
They dragged them both out. Kaysen was still coughing. Rayna was talking fast. Saying something about a mistake. About not knowing. About how this wasn't fair.
The door closed.
Silence.
Darius was still on his knees. He looked up at Alistair. "What do you want me to do?"
"Wait," Alistair said.
Darius nodded. He didn't ask what he was waiting for. He just stayed on the floor.
Alistair looked at me. "Can you walk?"
I nodded.
He held out his arm. I took it. We walked out together.
***
The helicopter was waiting on the deck.
Wind whipped my hair. The coat billowed. I climbed in. Alistair climbed in beside me. The door closed and the noise dropped to a hum.
We lifted off.
I looked out the window. The cruise ship got smaller. The ocean spread out black and endless below us.
Alistair was quiet for a long time.
Then he opened a compartment under his seat. Pulled out a bottle. Château Margaux. Two glasses.
He poured. Handed me one.
I took it. Didn't drink.
He watched me. "Do you want me to handle this, or do you want to learn?"
I looked at the glass. At the wine. At my reflection in the dark window.
I thought about Kaysen's hollow face. Rayna's smirk. Darius on his knees.
I thought about the woman I'd been an hour ago. The one who wanted to be ordinary. Who buried herself to be loved.
She was gone.
"Teach me," I said.
Alistair smiled.
It wasn't a nice smile.
He raised his glass. I raised mine. We drank.
The city lights appeared on the horizon. We flew toward them. The lesson had already begun.
