Chapter Five

When I woke up, I was lying in the bed in the guest room under two down comforters.

Sebastian was standing beside the bed, his face hard.

"After the disaster you caused, you should have been in there three days and three nights. It's only because Vivian is kind enough to let it go that she begged me to let you out."

"I knew you hadn't given up on me. But Lila, get this through your head: I could never be interested in a girl twelve years younger than me—a girl I raised. You and me—it will never happen."

He didn't look me in the eye when he said it.

The door slammed shut, pushing every explanation on the tip of my tongue back down.

I leaned back against the headboard, closed my eyes, and let out a long sigh.

"Sebastian, I really, truly don't like you anymore."

…

Over the next few days, the Cross estate was bustling. Everyone was busy preparing for the wedding in two weeks.

As soon as Vivian was halfway healed, she was hobbling around on crutches directing the staff as they decorated the conservatory. When she saw me, she slipped her arm through mine like we were close friends, as if everything that had happened had simply vanished.

"The venue and decorations are almost done. We're just missing a bridesmaid. I think Lila would be perfect. She'll get some of the wedding luck—who knows, maybe she'll find a boyfriend among the groomsmen."

I didn't have her acting skills. I pulled my arm out of hers and was about to say no when a cool voice came from overhead.

"She can't be a bridesmaid."

We both turned. Sebastian was standing on the staircase, an unfinished merger file in his hand.

"Why not?" Vivian looked a little surprised.

Sebastian didn't answer. He just looked at me.

It was a heavy look. His brow was faintly furrowed, like something was bothering him—like even he couldn't say what.

I didn't want to guess, so I spoke first. "I'm family. A younger generation. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to be a bridesmaid."

The truth was—I'd be in London soon. I was never going to be at that wedding.

Sebastian nodded along, and only then did Vivian let it drop.

I'd just let out a breath when Vivian spoke again. "Well, since Lila can't be a bridesmaid, how about, as your wedding gift, you give me that wedding dress you designed? I love it so much."

My fingertips trembled. Without meaning to, I looked at Sebastian.

I'd designed that dress at eighteen. It won the gold prize at the New York Emerging Designers Competition. I couldn't count how many Upper East Side socialites had offered me a fortune to wear it at their own weddings. I'd turned every one of them down.

Because I'd drawn it for myself. I used to dream of wearing it to marry Sebastian.

Sebastian knew what that dress meant. But he didn't want to disappoint Vivian. "Lila, sell it to me. Name your price. Ask for anything you want."

The corner of my mouth twitched.

Suddenly, I saw it clearly. It was just a dress. If I could draw that one, I could draw a better one next. I used to tie every bit of my talent to one man. Not anymore.

"That's not necessary. Vivian's right. I should give you my blessing. Consider the dress an early wedding present for the two of you."

I called the studio where the dress was stored right then and there. In less than an hour, they'd delivered it to the estate and put it in Vivian's hands.

Vivian got what she wanted and was too delighted to bother tormenting me anymore. She hurried off to the fitting room.

I watched her go, calm, then turned and went back to my room.

As I reached the landing, I caught a glimpse of Sebastian out of the corner of my eye. He was still standing where I'd left him, staring after me, lost in thought.

…

Late that night, I was in my room packing the last of my things. My visa would come through any day now. I'd be gone soon.

I'd just shoved my suitcase into the back of the closet when someone kicked the door open. Sebastian stormed in and grabbed my wrist.

"What did you do to that dress?"

"Vivian only had it on for half an hour, and she broke out in a rash all over. She's so itchy she can't sleep. Lila, are you trying to kill her?"

Under the dim lamplight, the fury in his eyes cut like knives.

I shook my head. "I never touched that dress. It's been in the climate-controlled room at the studio this whole time. They delivered it straight here. I have no reason to hurt her."

Sebastian's face darkened. He flung me down onto the bed.

"No reason? Everyone in New York knows how you feel about me! Of all the things you could do, you went after Vivian. You'd better pray she's okay, or else—"

Before he could finish, a maid burst in. "Sir, come quick! Miss Moore's fainted!"

Sebastian's face changed. "Watch her. Don't let her leave," he snapped, and ran out.

That night, every light in the estate was on.

I sat on the living room sofa with my nails dug deep into my palms. I watched the old clock on the mantel move from midnight to seven in the morning.

The moment it chimed, hurried footsteps sounded in the front hall.

Sebastian's eyes were terrifyingly dark, wild with something vicious. He took a riding crop from Harris, the butler—one from the stables—and walked toward me, one step at a time.

"Lila, do you understand that Vivian and the baby she's carrying almost died?"

Baby?

Vivian was pregnant?

After the shock, it clicked. In my last life, this was right around when I'd found out I was pregnant. In this life, I'd given that night to Vivian. So of course it was her carrying the child now.

I raised my head and tried to reason with him with the last bit of calm I had.

"I didn't tamper with that dress. The kidnapping, the letters that mysteriously showed up at the party, and now the dress—don't you think that's all a little too convenient? Even if I really wanted to hurt her, could I pull it off again and again, perfectly, every single time? You're the one who always insists on evidence. Why won't you even look into it?"

I thought Sebastian, as sharp as he was, would catch the clues buried in all of it.

But his eyes were red with rage. "So you're saying Vivian set you up? I love her. I'm marrying her. Why would she need to set you up?"

That was the part I couldn't figure out either. "I don't know…"

Before I could finish, the crop whistled through the air and cracked across my back.

"Lila, you're hopeless."

The pain turned my face white. I tried to get away on instinct, but two of the security guards rushed in and pinned me facedown on the rug.

"Lila, are you going to admit what you did?"

Another lash. I was shaking all over. I clutched the fringe of the rug with both hands and didn't make a single sound.

"I'll ask you one more time—are you going to admit it?"

I kept my lips pressed tight.

I hadn't done anything wrong. Why should I admit to it?

In my last life, I knelt for ten years. I admitted fault for ten years, until in the end it cost me my life. In this life, even if he beat me to death, I would never again say I was wrong to this man.

My stubbornness set off his real temper. The crop came down again and again. Soon my whole back was a bloody mess.

In the end, it was Harris who couldn't watch anymore. He stepped forward and caught the crop. "Sir, if this goes on, someone's going to die. You'll regret it."

Only then did Sebastian stop. He threw the crop to the floor. "Lila, don't let this happen again."

I finally couldn't hold on. My head dropped, and I passed out.

…

For the next week, Sebastian stayed at the hospital with Vivian and never once came home.

I lay facedown in bed, in too much pain to get up. It was Mary who changed my dressings in secret.

The day the wounds scabbed over, the British consulate called: my visa had been approved. On the same day, my acceptance letter from the art school in London landed in my inbox.

I had no reason left to stay.

I went to the bank and closed my accounts. I went to the carrier and shut off my American number, keeping only a temporary SIM that would expire that same day. Then I picked up my suitcase and went downstairs.

I'd just pushed open the front door when I ran into Sebastian, coming home.

His eyes rested on the suitcase for one second, and his face went cold.

"Lila, how old are you? You're still pulling this running-away stunt? How many times have I told you not to have those feelings for me? And you keep going after Vivian, over and over. I punish you, and now I'm the one in the wrong?"

I was just tired.

I didn't know how many more times I'd have to say I don't like you anymore before he'd believe it. So I stopped saying it.

When I didn't answer, Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and softened a little. "Fine. Maybe it's good for you to get away for a while. Vivian's pregnancy has been unstable lately, and I'm busy with the wedding. If you stay here, who knows what you'll do next."

He took the suitcase out of my hand. "I'll drive you to the airport myself."

I didn't argue. I didn't explain. I just followed him quietly.

The car took us all the way to Terminal 7 at JFK. As I got my bag and started to get out, he finally asked, "Where's your ticket to?"

My lips moved. Before I could make a sound, he went on as if talking to himself.

"Just go somewhere nearby for a while. Boston, Philadelphia—either's fine. Don't go too far. Once Vivian and I are done with the wedding, I'll come and bring you home."

This time, I didn't say anything at all. I just nodded obediently. "Okay."

I walked into the terminal with him watching me go.

Only after the black Maybach had merged into the traffic and disappeared did I take out my phone.

I blocked Sebastian's number, his texts, his email, one by one. Then I took out the temporary SIM, snapped it in half, and dropped it in the trash.

The screen at the gate read: British Airways BA178, London Heathrow.

I didn't look back. I walked onto the jet bridge.

Bring me home?

No need, Sebastian.

I'm never coming back.