Chapter 8
1054 Words
A heavy silence settled between us after her words, thick and suffocating, like the air itself had shifted.
Disappear properly.
The phrase echoed in my head, over and over, until it started to feel real. Not dramatic. Not exaggerated.
Necessary.
My fingers tightened around the letter as I stared down at it, my chest rising and falling unevenly.
“I’ve already lost everything,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. “What else is there to take?”
“Your safety,” Victoria replied without hesitation.
My head snapped up.
“What?”
Her expression didn’t soften this time. If anything, it grew more serious.
“You think this is about money?” she asked. “About a company? Maisie, this goes far beyond that.”
A chill ran straight through me.
“They won’t just let you walk away,” she continued. “You’ve already become a problem.”
A problem.
The word made my stomach twist.
“I haven’t done anything,” I said, my voice tightening.
“You’ve done exactly what they didn’t expect,” she said. “You left before they could control you.”
That didn’t feel like a victory.
It felt like I had stepped into something I didn’t understand.
“They’ll realise soon,” she added. “If they haven’t already.”
My heart started to pound again, faster this time, more urgent.
“And then what?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
“They’ll start looking,” she said. “And they won’t be gentle about it.”
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too exposed.
My mind jumped to Daniel.
To Amelia.
To the way they had spoken about me like I was nothing more than a step in their plan.
“They wouldn’t…” I started, but the words didn’t feel convincing even as I said them.
Wouldn’t they?
I had thought I knew them.
I had thought I knew him.
And look how wrong I had been.
“They will do whatever they need to do,” she said quietly. “Because what you have… what your mother built… it’s not something they’ll walk away from.”
My grip tightened again, my pulse loud in my ears.
“Then I won’t let them have it,” I said, the words coming out firmer than I expected.
Something flickered in her eyes.
Approval.
Good.
Because I meant it.
I might not understand everything yet, but I understood one thing clearly.
They had tried to take everything from me.
And I wasn’t going to hand it over.
Not anymore.
“So what does ‘disappearing properly’ actually mean?” I asked, forcing myself to stay focused.
She studied me for a moment, like she was measuring something.
Then she nodded slightly.
“It means cutting every tie they can use to find you,” she said. “Your phone. Your accounts. Your name, if necessary.”
My stomach dropped.
“My name?”
“Yes.”
“That’s… that’s extreme,” I said, shaking my head slightly.
“So is what they’re willing to do,” she replied.
Silence filled the room again.
Not confusion this time.
Understanding.
Slow.
Uncomfortable.
But real.
“They’ll be expecting you tomorrow,” I said, my thoughts starting to shift, to piece together something new. “They’ll be waiting at the wedding.”
“Yes.”
“And when I don’t show up…”
“They’ll know something’s wrong.”
I exhaled slowly.
“And they’ll come looking.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened, but this time, it didn’t feel like panic.
It felt like preparation.
“They think I’m weak,” I said quietly. “They think I’ll do exactly what they want.”
“They do,” she agreed.
A small, humourless smile touched my lips.
“Good.”
She raised an eyebrow slightly.
“That makes this easier.”
Something in my voice must have changed, because she looked at me differently now.
Not like I was the girl who had just walked through her door.
Like I was something else.
Someone else.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
I looked down at the letter again, at my mother’s handwriting, at the proof that everything I thought I knew had been a lie.
Then I looked back up.
“They want me to disappear?” I said slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then I will.”
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
“But not the way they expect.”
A flicker of interest crossed her face.
“Explain.”
I straightened slightly, my mind clearer now than it had been all night.
“They’re expecting panic,” I said. “They’re expecting me to run, to hide, to disappear quietly.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
She didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t question.
Just listened.
“I’ll disappear,” I continued, “but on my terms. Not theirs.”
My heart was still racing, but it wasn’t fear anymore.
It was something else.
Something stronger.
“They think they’ve already won,” I said. “They think tomorrow is theirs.”
“And?” she prompted.
I met her gaze, steady now.
“Then let them think that.”
Silence followed.
But it wasn’t empty.
It was charged.
Because for the first time since everything had fallen apart—
I wasn’t reacting.
I was planning.
“They’re not just losing a signature,” I added quietly. “They’re losing everything they thought they had control over.”
A slow smile touched her lips.
“There she is,” she murmured.
I frowned slightly.
“Who?”
“The girl your mother knew you would become.”
The words settled somewhere deep inside me.
Not comforting.
Not soft.
But grounding.
Because for the first time—
I felt like I was stepping into something.
Not away from it.
“So what do we do next?” I asked.
Her expression shifted again, all focus now.
“First,” Victoria said, “we make sure you’re somewhere they can’t find you.”
My chest tightened slightly.
“And then?”
Her eyes held mine.
“Then we take back what’s yours.”
My grip tightened around the letter.
And this time—
I didn’t feel lost.
I felt ready.
- Writer
