Chapter 4

The Deerfield Business Council gala was held at the Skyline Hotel.

Jackson Fox was one of this year's newly appointed council members.

He needed to land the Deer Mountain Estate contract, keep his financing steady, and above all, keep playing the devoted husband.

When we walked in, he held my hand and fixed my shawl for me in front of the cameras, tender as a model husband.

Kay Hughes stayed a step behind us, taking the drinks meant for Jackson, passing out business cards, fielding the clients' questions.

Someone joked, "Mr. Fox and Director Hughes really are a power couple in business."

Kay's face went red.

"Don't say things like that. Vivi's right here."

Jackson didn't deny it. He only murmured to me, "They're teasing."

A waiter came by with drinks.

Kay picked one up herself and handed it to me.

"Vivi, fruit wine. Very low proof."

I took it. The glass was cold against my fingers. I gave it a sniff but didn't drink.

The moment a client pulled Jackson away, I tipped the wine into a nearby planter and swapped it for a glass of plain water.

Half an hour later, Blake texted.

"Come up to the third-floor terrace."

The wind was strong on the third-floor terrace. Blake stood there in a black suit, cold and sharp.

When he saw me, the first thing he said was, "You shouldn't have come."

I asked, "Didn't you tell me to?"

He pressed his lips together.

"I wanted to know whether you drank that wine."

"And if I had?"

"I'd have gotten you out."

I looked at him.

"Out to where? The third-floor lounge?"

Blake went quiet.

In that moment, I knew for certain.

The trap Jackson had set was in the third-floor lounge.

I asked, "How much did Jackson pay you?"

"Ann."

"Don't use my name."

I kept looking at him.

"Getting close to me, was it for the money, or for something else?"

Something like pain flickered in his eyes, but he didn't explain.

He said, "Whatever you see tonight, don't sign anything."

"One of you tells me to sign, the other tells me not to. Quite the show."

With that, I turned to go, and my legs suddenly gave out under me.

I hadn't touched that wine.

But before the gala started, Jackson had handed me a glass of warm water.

Blake's face changed. He reached out and caught me.

"Ann!"

I grabbed the railing.

"Don't touch me."

He stopped.

But the next second, the terrace door was pushed open.

Two men dressed as waiters instantly raised their phones.

Blake pulled off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

"I'll take you to the lounge."

"So you're finally following the script."

He didn't argue.

There was a camera at the end of the hallway. I knew it was recording.

Recording a young man with his arm around a thinly dressed married woman, walking into a hotel lounge late at night.

The instant the lounge door closed, Blake let go of me, opened the window, and started searching the room.

The hidden camera in the vase, the man's cufflink wedged in the sofa cushions, the earring on the nightstand, the man's shirt by the bathroom door. He photographed each one.

I leaned back in the chair and watched him coldly.

"You're very practiced at this."

His hands paused.

"I studied law. Gathering evidence is a required course."

Footsteps came from outside soon enough.

Jackson arrived faster than I'd expected.

The door swung open.

Behind him came Kay, the council members, the hotel manager, and two local livestreamers holding up their phones.

Jackson saw me sitting in the lounge, wrapped in Blake's jacket.

His eyes rimmed red at once.

"Vivi, how could you do this?"

Half an hour later, the big screen in the gala hall lit up.

Jackson stood on the stage, his voice breaking as he spoke about our seven years.

"I always believed that if I just worked hard enough, I could hold this family together."

"But today, I finally learned that some things can't be held onto."

The screen began playing the photos.

Blake handing me an umbrella, carrying flowers, going with me to the cemetery, and helping me into the lounge. One by one they went up on the screen.

Every one of them looked suggestive, and every one was incomplete. But public opinion has never needed the whole picture.

Jackson took out an agreement.

"Vivi, just sign it, and I won't pursue this any further."

"The place in Southside, the flower shop, I'll leave them all to you."

I sat below the stage and watched him trade my house and my flower shop for his own respectability.

Kay held the pen out to me.

"Vivi, just sign. If you drag this out, you're the only one who ends up looking bad."

Jackson turned to Blake.

"Mr. James, why don't you say something too."

Every camera in the room swung to Blake.

He picked up the microphone, looked at me, his eyes heavy.

Then he said, "Mr. Fox is right."

Satisfaction flashed in Jackson's eyes.

Blake went on, "Tonight, I was the one who brought Mrs. Fox into the lounge."

Jackson stepped down from the stage, leaned in, and said in a voice only I could hear, "Vivi, I gave you your chance."

The next second, Blake's voice rang out again.

"And I did it on Mr. Fox's instructions."

Blake walked to the projection stand and set a voice recorder down on it.

He looked at Jackson.

"Mr. Fox, I've finished the first step you asked me to do."

"Now, shall we play the instructions you gave me for the next step?"