Leonard

Carter drags me to Low Vice. Apparently Margot wants to install swings in a couple of the playrooms, and she needs us to consult on weight-bearing beams and whatnot.


'She has the prints, it'll take two seconds," Carter says. 'Don't make me go there alone."

'Coward," I say, but without any weight. I wouldn't want to go alone, either. With feeling so raw after Evie's departure, and seeing everyone else happily exchanging power, it would fucking hurt.

'Speaking of cowards," Carter says as we approach the back entrance, 'have you even tried calling Mark?"


'Yes, I've tried," I say as the bouncer lets us in with a nod. 'The asshole won't answer and he won't text back. I went to his place yesterday morning and he still isn't home, neither is Evie."

Low, pulsing bass fills my ears as we step inside Low Vice. I was hoping the place would be nearly empty this early, but no such luck. The first thing I see upon entering is a trio in a booth. One woman sandwiched between two men, their hands roving over her body while she tries not to squirm.


One of the men looks up as I approach, and I'm shocked to see that it's Chance Wexton.

'Hey," I say in surprise, nudging Carter. 'It's Chance and Ethan."

We talk to them for a couple of minutes, and they introduce their partner, Maisie, who does her best to hold a conversation with Chance's hand between her legs, underneath the table. I immediately imagine coming here with Evie and doing something similar.

Poor Maisie looks like she's trying to hold back an orgasm. By unspoken agreement, Carter and I make an excuse and walk away.

'I didn't think they'd ever make a play for someone," Carter comments when we reach Room Three, where Margot wants to add a swing.

'Good for them. Glad they found someone they seem to really like."

He doesn't answer, but I know he's thinking we've found someone we really like. But she isn't here.

I want nothing more than to hold that little girl in my arms. I'll give her my heart. I'll give her the fucking world.

She isn't coming back, though, no matter what Carter might hope.

* * *

Evangeline

'Dad," I say over our dessert, 'I need to talk to you about something."

We're in Antoine's friend's restaurant. Antoine begged off, saying he had another engagement. I suspect he's trying to be a gentleman and give me space after my broken heart revelation earlier today. His friend, however, has treated us like absolute royalty. He sends dish upon dish for us to try. This must be what Antoine's idol, Princess Ruby, feels like when she goes out to eat.

She probably acts more like a proper lady, though, while I'm shoveling mousse au chocolat down my gullet like a bear gearing up for hibernation.

Dad sets down his fork and looks at me calmly. 'You can tell me anything."

'You're going to get mad, probably."

'Not at you, Pumpkin. If you want to talk about Leonard and Carter, I am most certainly not mad at you."

It's them he's angry with, that's what he's saying.

'You shouldn't be mad at them, either," I say.

He shakes his head. 'Sweetheart, they manipulated you?—"

'Dad, I'm twenty-six. Not sixteen."

'But there's a power differential. And Evangeline, he's your uncle."

'Step-uncle," I say. 'I didn't even know him when we first met. It was at a club in San Esteban, okay? We were shocked when we met again at home."

He looks like the last thing he wants is more details, but I press on, nervous that he'll reject me. I imagine him getting up from this table, quietly paying the bill, and disappearing from my life forever.

'Dad, please. Leonard tried to stay away for a long time. I kept pushing things, though. I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. Carter, too."

'Christ," he says, running a hand through his graying brown hair. 'The things I don't want to think about my daughter doing."

'Don't think about that, then," I say, relieved that he isn't leaping away from me. 'Think about how much I care about them both."

I love them, but I don't want to say that to my dad before I can say it to them—it just feels wrong.

'Do you know if they feel the same?" Dad asks. 'Or is it just…you know…" He clears his throat. 'Physical."

My poor dad. He's more uncomfortable than I am at this point.

'I don't know if they still want to build a relationship with me," I say, 'but if they want to try, then I do, too. You want me to be happy—you keep saying it. If you can trust me enough to try this relationship, then I might believe you mean it when you say that you want me to be happy."

'Evangeline." His eyes look shiny and wet. 'I don't want to lose you. Not when I just got you back."

'You won't, Dad. I promise."

Frowning, he adjusts his spoon, lining it up with his half-finished bowl of chocolate mousse. If he isn't going to finish his dessert, maybe he'll give it to me.

'I love you, Evangeline. And I do want you to be happy. If that means standing aside while you figure this out, and trusting you to make the right choices for yourself, then that's what I'll do."

I get up and go around the table to throw my arms around him. 'Thank you, Dad."

'Do you know when you plan to see them again?"

'I'm still considering this job here in Paris," I say, 'but Chanel's wedding is next week so I'll be home and I can talk to them then. If they want to talk to me."

Smoothing his hair down again, he says, 'If the desThomased way Leonard looked at you before we left is any indication, then yes, they'll want to talk to you."

I risked my dad's disapproval for my happiness, and the world didn't crumble down around me.

Maybe…maybe there's hope.