Page 95 of Reaper's Desire

Julian moves forward and cuts the zip ties binding her wrists. Vivienne rubs at the red marks on her skin, her hands trembling, and pulls her phone from her pocket.

I hold my breath.

"It's me," Vivienne says when someone answers. Her voice is shaking. "I need to cancel the contract. The one on Isabelle Montague. I want it revoked. Ended. Immediately."

There's a pause. I can't hear what the person on the other end is saying, but I can see Vivienne's face go even paler.

"I don't care about the down payment," she says desperately. "Keep it. Just cancel the contract. Tell everyone it's over. Tell them she's off limits. Please."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"And Julian," I speak up suddenly, and every head in the room swivels toward me. "I want Julian to be left alone, too.Whoever is after him for failing to complete the contract, they stop."

Vivienne swallows hard, her eyes darting around, but my father nods. She relays that information, too. "Yes… I… okay. Another five hundred thousand for that. I see. It'll be done."

She drops the phone and looks at us. "The contract is canceled."

"And Julian?"

"Isabelle—"

I ignore him. "Julian."

"They will leave him alone." Her voice is bitter and hollow as she speaks. The phone slides off of her lap and hits the floor.

And then, in that moment, as Julian looks at me as if he's never seen me before, shock written across his features, I feel the weight of the past weeks lifting.

It's over. The contract that's haunted me since Ibiza, that's driven us across Europe and forced us into this impossible situation, that's nearly killed me—it's finished.

I'm safe. We're safe.

My father turns to Vivienne, and the coldness in his expression hasn't softened at all. "Get out," he says quietly. "You can have a head start before I call the police."

"Jacques—"

"Get out of my home. Get out of my life. I'm filing for divorce. You can take what's legally yours, but nothing else. Not one dollar of the Montague fortune. Not one piece of property. Not one connection or contact or favor."

"You can't do this?—"

"I can. And I will." He takes a step toward her, and she flinches back. "If I ever see you again, Vivienne, if you ever contact Isabelle again, if you try anything at all—anything—I will make sure you disappear in a way that even Julian wouldn't have imagined. I have connections you can't begin to understand," myfather continues, his voice never rising above that terrible calm. "I have resources you've never seen. And I will use every single one of them to make sure you suffer for what you've done to my daughter."

Vivienne is sobbing now, her entire body shaking. She tries to stand and nearly falls, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

"You destroyed this yourself," my father says. "You made your choices. You placed that contract. You stole that money. You tried to have my child murdered. And now you're going to live with the consequences." He gestures toward the door. "Get out. Now. Before I change my mind about letting you walk out of here alive."

Vivienne stumbles toward the door. She's still crying, still trying to speak, but no coherent words come out. She reaches the doorway and looks back one last time, her face a mask of desperation and defeat.

My father doesn't even look at her.

She leaves. And then it's just the three of us—me, my father, and Julian—standing in the wreckage. My father turns to me, and for a moment, we just look at each other.

Then he pulls me into his arms again, holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry I didn't see what she was doing. I'm sorry I let this happen."

"It's not your fault," I manage, my own voice breaking.

"It is." He pulls back just enough to look at me, and I can see tears in his eyes—actual tears, something I've never seen from him before. "I should have been paying attention. I should have noticed the money disappearing, seen what kind of person she was. I should have protected you."

"You're here now," I whisper. "That's what matters."