Chapter 3
I left the wedding with ash on my hands and half the plaza chanting Kaelen's name for reasons that had nothing to do with romance. My suitcase was waiting in the back of a black town car. So was a first-class ticket to Milan, a new passport, and a leather folder stamped with the crest of a fashion house I had never applied to.
Kaelen had arranged all of it.
Naturally, he had arranged my escape before I decided I wanted one. The man could plan a military withdrawal faster than he could answer a text message.
His driver held the rear door open for me.
"The airport, Miss Valenti?"
"You work for him, do you not?"
"Yes."
"Then tell him I hope his bride enjoys the fireworks."
The driver looked at the burning silk reflected in the plaza windows.
"I believe she did."
I climbed into the car before I could laugh. Laughing felt too close to crying, and I had already wasted enough tears on Kaelen Draven.
The city blurred beyond the tinted glass. New York had always made me feel chosen. I had arrived with two scholarships, one suitcase, and the loud certainty that a Valenti daughter could build a life without asking her family where to put the walls.
By midnight, the Council had taken my degree. Kaelen had taken my runway. Someone had given me less than eleven hours to stay alive.
It was impressive, really. Most women only got one catastrophic breakup at a time.
My phone rang when we reached the airport.
Kaelen.
I watched his name burn across the screen until the call ended. Then it rang again.
"If you say congratulations, I will make the fireworks look tasteful."
I kept my voice steady.
His silence came first. I could hear the echo of a large room behind him, voices muffled by distance and security glass.
"The execution order is real."
His voice stayed level.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"That is your opening line? You finally have my attention and you lead with murder?"
"Get on the plane."
"I was planning to. Milan has better men and fewer wedding invitations."
"Mira."
Something in his voice stripped the joke out of me. Kaelen was rarely afraid. He had walked into Council hearings, armed negotiations, and one disastrous family Christmas with the same unreadable calm.
Now he sounded like he was holding a door shut with his bare hands.
"Who signed it?"
I waited for an answer.
"I do not know yet."
"That is new. Usually you know everything and tell me nothing."
He exhaled once, harsh and controlled.
"There are people in the Council I cannot expose without putting you in greater danger."
"You already put me in danger when you threw me out of school."
"I did it to get you off the runway."
"A very romantic gesture."
"It was not meant to be romantic."
"No. You saved that for Elara."
For a moment, I thought he would finally explain. I thought he would tell me why the woman he was marrying had looked at my fake scandal cards like they were the best entertainment she had seen all year. I thought he would tell me why he had spent three months avoiding me, why he had signed an order to destroy the only thing I had built for myself.
Instead, he said.
"Do not come back until I call."
The departure board above me flashed MILAN in gold letters.
"You do not get to call me."
I kept my voice steady.
"You made that choice for both of us. I am only catching up."
I ended the call.
At the gate, I took off the silver heirloom necklace I had worn since childhood. The wolf-shaped pendant lay cold in my palm, too old for its delicate chain and too heavy for something so small.
I almost left it in the trash.
Then the pendant warmed against my skin.
Not from my hand.
From the faint red mark spreading beneath it.
I fastened it back around my throat and boarded the plane with my heart broken, my future gone, and a death sentence counting down in my pocket.
Three years later, in Milan, I would learn that Kaelen had never stopped watching.
And that the people who wanted me dead had never stopped either.