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Vivian's POV

Gemma lifted her head from the giant pool float and glanced at me over her sunglasses. “If Dorian wants to kidnap me too, tell him to go ahead.”

She had no clue how close that reality came. I had no intention of informing her, either.

“Really? That’s all it takes to trap you? A pool with a view?”

“No, not just that.” She raised a hand and started ticking items off her fingers. “A pool with a view, a full-time maid, a personal chef, and quitting my job. For all of that, I’d give up my life in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not sure Grant would approve.”

She waved dismissively. “He’d be fine. Dorian’s got you for all his... needs. I’ll just be here, lounging by the pool, snacking.”

“Hey!” I splashed water at her. “That is *not* what I’m doing here. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Sure, sure. But are you or are you not sleeping with him whenever you get the chance?” She raised her hands in mock surrender. “No judgment. Now that I’ve seen him, I get it.”

I leaned back on my float, squinting up at the bright blue sky.

Dorian and Gemma had met for barely three minutes that morning. He had nodded in her direction before dragging Leonora out the door for what his sister sarcastically called a "nonstop, super fun brother-sister bonding day."

Gemma now knew that Dorian was ridiculously attractive, but she still had no idea that my reasons for being here went far beyond his looks. It wasn’t about his wealth, either, or the fact that I’d experienced more pleasure here than anywhere else in my life.

I loved him.

Still.

I had hoped being locked in that room would’ve snapped me out of it, but the ache in my chest remained as strong as ever. I loved Dorian Delacroix… and I had no idea what he felt for me.

Gemma and I dried off by the pool before heading inside. She practically melted at the sight of fresh bruschetta and crunchy bread waiting on the counter.

“Movie snack!” she declared, swiping the tray and carrying it to the living room.

“Since when is bruschetta a movie snack?”

“Since your rich boyfriend has a personal chef who makes bruschetta and access to every streaming service ever.”

We settled on the couch and started watching *Taken*—Gemma’s pick, despite my protests that it was a bit too on-the-nose. Halfway through, the front door suddenly slammed open, crashing against the wall.

I sat up, heart racing. I’d always felt safe here, but maybe Dorian had been right. Maybe bringing Gemma wasn’t the best idea. What if someone followed her?

Leonora stormed past the living room, her face a storm cloud of fury.

“Don’t slam the door!” Dorian’s voice bellowed from outside just as Leonora’s bedroom door slammed shut.

“Uh-oh,” Gemma whispered, sinking into the couch. “Looks like that brother-sister bonding didn’t go well.”

A moment later, Dorian slammed his office door.

I winced. “Guess not.”

We finished the movie, but my mind was elsewhere. All I could think about was going to check on Dorian, to see if he was okay and if I could help in any way.

When Gemma was finally ready to leave, she gave me a tight hug and nudged me back toward the house. “Go check on your guy.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you call him, I can see you’re worried.”

“Things with his sister are… tense. His mom sent her here without warning, and now Dorian’s kind of playing the father figure. I’m trying to help, but there’s only so much I can do. I just want them to get along. He’s trying to do what’s best for her, but Leonora doesn’t always see that.”

“Wow.” Gemma shook her head, a knowing smile on her face. “You’re in deep, Loon. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone.”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the truth from her even though it was far too late. Gemma had been here only a few hours, and she already saw right through me.

I hugged her one more time. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Now that Dorian’s okay with it, I’ll be allowed back?” Gemma rolled her eyes again. “I don’t know what he thought I was going to do—wear a wire? I’m cool, you know.”

“I know. And now Dorian does, too.”

I watched the car pull away before heading straight to Dorian’s office.

“Come in,” he called out before I could even knock.

I peeked through the door. “Can you see through walls now?”

“I heard footsteps. Since they weren’t stomping, I figured it was you and not my sister.”

“Boring ol’ deduction. No magic powers, huh?”

He smirked slightly. “I never said I don’t have them—just that I didn’t need them this time.”

I closed the door gently behind me. A part of me wanted to leave it open. Being alone in enclosed spaces with Dorian always made me feel strange things. Even this morning, when he had me pinned to the counter, accusing me of all sorts of ridiculous things, I wanted him to touch me.

I exhaled, facing him. “So, how did—”

“Gemma’s fine,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Gemma,” he repeated, slower this time. “She seems okay.”

“That’s high praise coming from you, especially since you barely spent time with her today.”

“I didn’t need to.” He closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t have left you alone with her if I wasn’t sure about her.”

Was that for my sake or hers? Did he care about what happened to me as much as I cared about him?