Chapter 21

Hailey

The buzz of my phone jolts me from sleep before my alarm has the chance this morning. My muscles protest after last night’s acrobatics as I grope for the device on the nightstand, squinting against the light of the screen. As my eyes adjust, Franklin’s words come into focus, each one a targeted missile designed to wound.

Franklin: Thought you could ignore me? Think again.

Franklin: I’ll show everyone who you really are. And your future earnings? They’re mine.

My heart stammers in my chest as I scroll through his messages, each more vindictive than the last. Then comes an image—a photo of me, barely clothed in a whisper of lingerie. Another follows, and this time, there’s no barrier between my skin and the lens. I can’t bring myself to look at any others. Shame is a hot flush that spreads across my cheeks. Why did that ever seem like a good idea?

“Hailey?” Christian asks. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I lie, but tears betray me, spilling over despite my efforts to dam them.

Christian reaches for the phone, and I relinquish it, watching as his eyes darken as he reads. When he sees the photos, something in his expression shifts. “Tell me about these,” he says, voice tight with anger.

I draw in a shaky breath, trying to stitch my fraying nerves together. “Franklin and I…we were serious. I thought…I believed we’d get married one day.”

The words feel hollow now, a bitter reminder of how easily I fell for his act. Looking back, it’s clear that Franklin never loved me, not the way I wanted to be loved. I shake my head. The moment I couldn’t support him anymore, the moment I became more of a burden than a benefit, he turned cold. Distant. It had never been about me or about a partnership. It was about what I could give him.

Now, I see his manipulation for what it was—survival. Franklin was always scrambling to keep his head above water—probably still is—and I was just another lifeboat he latched onto.

But I’m not that girl anymore. I won’t let him drag me down with him again.

Christian’s hand tightens over mine, pulling me out of the memory. “He can’t bully you into something if he won’t even disclose what’s missing,” he says. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, but I’m here to help. We’ll deal with this together.”

I nod, feeling a weight slowly lift. I’m ready to fight back. I don’t need to be afraid of Franklin and his threats.

“Did you want to take these photos?” Christian asks.

“Not particularly,” I whisper. “But I wanted him to be happy. To love me.”

“Hey,” Christian says with a nod, thumb brushing a tear from my cheek. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

His assurance calms me, but my stomach doesn’t entirely uncoil.

Christian’s jaw clenches as he captures the screen with quick, precise movements. Then he taps out a message with a ferocity that matches the thundering rhythm of my heart.

“Who are you sending those to?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. Though I don’t know why it matters. Once Franklin decides to do it, they’ll be everywhere.

“Someone who can help,” Christian answers. “I promise, Franklin won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what if he posts the pictures? With my name and I don’t want my mistake to cause you problems?” The words tumble out in a rush, echoing the panic inside me.

Christian looks at me, his eyes fierce. “He won’t get that chance. I’ve sent everything to my family lawyer, Miller Crawford. He’s good, very good. Franklin’s about to learn he can’t mess with people’s lives without consequences.”

More people viewing these pictures and more people I never want to meet . “If I have anything of Franklin’s, it needs to go back. I don’t want any part of him near me.”

Christian nods. “That’s fine, Hailey. But he hasn’t told you what’s missing.”

I can’t look at him.

“He has to disclose what he’s looking for. I’m here to help you.” His hand finds mine, strong and warm, a promise of protection.

Addison fusses, and with a nod, I go to her. She’s hungry, and as I prepare her bottle, I notice the sun is shining for once. We should use that to our advantage today.

I scramble eggs for all of us, and Addison eats on Christian’s lap, happy and full of giggles.

“I was thinking I’d take Addison down to the seawall at Stanley Park for a stroll this morning.”

“Can I come with you?” Christian asks.

“You’re not working? We’d love that.”

Christian kisses Addison on the forehead.

When we’ve finished breakfast, we all get dressed, and then Christian drives us in the Range Rover. “I feel so much better with you in this vehicle,” he remarks. “I had no idea the minivan was so bad.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” I laugh. “You’re just used to those little dick compensators.”

“What?”

“You know, most women figure a guy needs a sporty car to make up for having a small dick.”

His brow furrows. “I don’t have a small dick, and women gag for my Porsche.”

I’ve found a nerve. This is fun. “I’m not super knowledgeable on dick sizes, but yours fits tightly. But really, the minivan is a mom car.”

“That’s right. My dick size is extra large.” He pulls into the parking lot at the Totems, and we get out.

I find it funny that he’s so sensitive. I wince slightly as we walk, the dull ache a reminder of how truly large his dick is. Christian doesn’t seem to notice. He’s lost in thought until we reach the seawall. The ocean breeze tousles my hair as we start off, Addison in the stroller.

“Tell me about your grandmother,” Christian says, his voice soft against the rush of the waves.

The question catches me off guard, but he smiles encouragingly. “My parents were always just the two of them,” I begin, my gaze fixed on the horizon where the sea meets the sky. “They had their world, filled with causes and ideals that felt like something out of the sixties—a love for communes and free spirits.” I pause, the memory bitter. “They left me with Grandma when I was eleven, and it was the two of us against the world. She was there for skinned knees, mean girls, and boys who broke my heart. I loved her more than anything. But…” My voice trails off.

“But what?” Christian prompts.

“Once she passed away, I was pretty much alone.”

Christian reaches for my hand, and I savor the comfort.

Then, an odd chirp sounds from his pocket. Christian pulls out his phone. “It’s a notification from the Ring doorbell at home,” he says. His eyes widen as he views the video feed, the blood draining from his face.

“Who is it?” I ask, my throat tightening.

He doesn’t answer, just grabs my hand tighter. “I need to take care of something. My dad has been asking to see Addison. Can I drop you there for the afternoon?”

Something about his tone sends a shiver down my spine. But I nod, trusting him despite the fear. Did Franklin do something? We make our way back to the Range Rover, and soon enough, we’re over the Lions Gate Bridge and winding through West Vancouver’s plush neighborhoods.

He pulls up to his father’s house, high in the hills on the north shore. His father’s warm welcome washes over us, especially Addison, who clings to me for only a moment before her giggles fill the air, mingling with the sound of the ocean below.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Christian whispers as he slips away. I want to believe him.

His stepmother, Tasha, smells of jasmine and something citrusy, her arms enveloping me in a maternal hug I haven’t felt since my grandmother passed.

“It’s been too long,” she says, looking at me with genuine affection in her eyes.

“Too long indeed,” echoes John, Christian’s father.

As we settle into the living room, Addison sits comfortably on Tasha’s lap.

“How are things going with Addison?” John asks.

“She’s doing great and feeling a lot better. Giving her medicine at home is so much better than being in the hospital. I’m loving this work,” I tell them. “I’m not even sure it’s fair to call it that.” Addison smiles and giggles. “Who doesn’t love that face?” I say with a smile.

“The infection gave us quite the scare.” Tasha holds Addison tighter.

“Indeed,” I agree. “But she’s getting so much stronger.”

We move on to talk about how great Dana’s doing, though I don’t mention she’s seeing Tate. I’m not sure what they know, and it’s not my story to tell anyway.

After a little while, John claps his hands together. “We were thinking burgers on the grill for lunch. Would you like one?”

“I don’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense.” Tasha waves my concern away. “We’re just glad to get more time with Addison.”

“That sounds good, but let me just check in with Christian,” I tell them. Did he go home or to the hospital? I wonder as I text him.

Me: How’s it going? Everything okay? Would you like me to get a rideshare home?

It takes a few minutes, but I get a reply.

Christian: No. Please stay where you are for now.