57

Vivian's POV

My chest tightened. “I talked to my cousin last week, but not since then.”

Leonora arched a brow. “How did you manage that with no phone?”

“I broke into your brother’s office and stole a burner.”

A slow grin spread across her face. “That’s giving rebellious. I love it.”

I pointed a finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas. Your brother would kill me if he thought I was being a bad influence.”

“Please.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not influenced—I do the influencing. I don’t need you, Adri, or Dorian telling me what to do.” She clutched her phone to her chest dramatically. “Dorian can pry my phone out of my cold, dead hands.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, he absolutely would. Or at least he’d try—especially the moment I piss him off.” She rolled her eyes. “Dorian loves a power trip.”

Leonora never missed an opportunity to take a jab at Dorian when he wasn’t around. I usually held my tongue, trying not to seem like I was siding too much with the so-called enemy. But this time, I couldn’t let it slide.

“Dorian is trying to keep you safe. Both of us,” I reminded her. “He has a lot on his plate.”

“Don’t I know it.” Her voice dropped to a mutter. “His plate is so full he can’t squeeze me on it.”

I studied her carefully. “If there’s something you want to say, you can tell me. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Leonora scoffed. “You sleep in Dorian’s room. There are no secrets when pillow talk is involved.”

That was an amusing image. If only it had any basis in reality. My chest ached at the thought. “Some things are sacred.” I pressed a hand to my heart. “Anything said during an Audrey Hepburn marathon—especially about you and your brothers—will never cross my lips.”

She eyed me up and down, then snorted. “You’re so corny.”

“But an excellent listener.”

“Fine,” she groaned, slumping back. “It’s not exactly a secret anyway. My dad died, which sucked. Then my brothers let my mom ship me halfway around the world, which sucked even more. I couldn’t do anything to bring my dad back, but I didn’t have to lose Dorian and Adri, too. Knowing they were alive but just uninterested in being around me? That was the worst part.”

My fingers tightened around hers in a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not that they didn’t want to be around you. They were dealing with their own stuff, too.”

“Yeah, well, we could’ve dealt with it together.”

“You still can. It’s not too late to fix things with them if you want to. You just need to talk to them.”

She didn’t answer right away. We sat in silence, my hand still holding hers, as she quietly breathed through her emotions. When I finally let go, pulling back, Leonora turned and slipped something hard into my palm.

“Call your cousin and tell her you’re okay.”

I glanced down. Her phone.

For a second, I could only stare, my mind racing. Dorian had made it explicitly clear—no contact with Gemma. He didn’t think it was safe for any connection between us while I was staying here. But Leonora had trusted me. Trusted me enough to give me her phone. That was huge. Especially coming from a teenager.

I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Before I could talk myself out of it, I punched in Gemma’s number.

Leonora pretended not to listen, but I wasn’t fooled. I’d bet my last dollar she was eavesdropping on every word.

The call barely rang before Gemma picked up. “Vivian?”

I blinked. “How did you know it was me?”

She let out a long sigh, relief flooding her voice. “I’m getting used to you calling from random numbers. Is this another burner?”

“No, it’s…” I hesitated. “It’s a long story. I just wanted to call and let you know I’m okay.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her tone shifting, growing sharper. “You disappeared on me again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I hate this, Viv. I hate not being able to talk to you. I’m freaked out for you.”

“I’m good. Really. Everything is fine.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “Do you really trust this guy?”

I glanced up and met Leonora’s gaze. She was watching me now, her expression softer than before. And in that moment, I saw Dorian in her—the same full lower lip, the same sharp nose, the same indomitable spirit that screamed, No one tells me what to do.

A small smile tugged at my lips. I tightened my grip on the phone.

“I do, Gemma,” I said, my voice steady. “I really do. I trust him with my life.”