Chapter 4

Her stomach dropped. She had expected Killian to choose Celeste. She had not expected Julian.

"Margot said Dad cheated because Mom wasn't good enough. You're not angry at that? You don't have anything to say?"

Julian looked at her, and his voice was even. "Celeste was an infant at the time. What does she know?"

"She wasn't wrong. We don't get to pick our parents. You don't have to keep punishing her for it."

She didn't know what she had done that counted as punishing Celeste. The thought threw her back, for one moment, to the night before Blackwell.

Celeste, supposedly stabbed. Her father hauling her out of bed, accusing her of hiring a man to murder her sister. An anonymous witness. Screenshots. Evidence that didn't exist six hours earlier.

She had tried to explain. Then Julian had stepped forward. His voice had been a glacier.

"Vivi. No matter what you did, I'll protect you. But you have to face consequences."

He had taken her side because she was his sister. Not because he believed her. They had rushed her into Blackwell before she could finish a sentence.

Now his face was pleasant, and his eyes were bored, and he was saying nearly the same thing.

"Vivi, you're my sister. I'll stand with you no matter who's right or wrong. But don't make me do this again."

She stared at the man she thought she had known her whole life. Stranger.

When she was sixteen she had collapsed at her mother's funeral, sobbing. Julian, seventeen, had gripped her hand.

"Don't cry, Vivi. You still have a brother. I'll protect you my whole life. I'll never let anyone hurt you."

For a long time, he had kept that promise.

He was still standing with her tonight. But his heart had turned.

And that was the moment Vivienne understood, quietly: the brother who had once promised to protect her forever did not love her anymore.

The gala turned sour fast. Richard got wind of everything within the hour. He came storming across the ballroom, his mustache trembling with rage.

"You ungrateful girl. One evening out and you've already caused chaos."

Vivienne looked at him and felt nothing. Delphine patted his back and shot her a sad, disapproving look.

"Vivi. It's your father's birthday. You didn't even bring him a gift. Please don't upset him tonight."

That did it. "Even Celeste remembered to bring a gift. I raised an ingrate."

Seven months. Seven months of beatings, insults, unthinkable humiliation, and when she finally walked out, what her father cared about was that she hadn't brought a wrapped box.

"So I'm worth less to you than a gift."

Richard's face went purple. His chest heaved, and he slapped her. Hard.

"How did I raise a daughter like you? Not one bit of Celeste's grace."

She hit the marble floor. The whole side of her face was on fire. She looked up.

"Father. If Mom saw this, she would hate you."

He froze.

Delphine smiled gently. "Oh, Vivi. If Seraphina could see us, she would want your father to be happy."

Richard's face smoothed over. He nodded. "Delphine's right. Seraphina, up there, would understand."

Then he turned back to Vivienne. "Go back upstairs and don't embarrass yourself any further. If Seraphina were alive and saw what you've become, she would die of shame all over again."

They walked off. Vivienne watched them go. The scene felt lifted out of someone else's life.

She held the slap on her cheek. No one came to check on her. Eyes everywhere, murmurs everywhere. She didn't answer a single one.

Then Killian came back. It had been a long time since he had actively sought her out.

Her numbed heart registered a small, dull surprise. And then he said: "Vivi. You made Celeste cry. I need you to come apologize with me."

Because of Celeste. Of course.

She knew the world now rotated around Celeste, but it still hit her, somewhere under her ribs.

He reached for her arm. She moved out of his reach. He stared at her like he couldn't parse it.

"Vivi. You're the one in the wrong."

"Celeste spent weeks planning this party for your father. She should have been your job. Do you know how tired she is? And you did that in front of everyone—"

He trailed off.

Because Vivienne was crying.

He couldn't remember the last time she had cried. Not since her mother died. Something in his chest cracked hairline-thin.

Her voice came out steady. "Killian. Would you apologize to someone who humiliated your mother?"

He didn't answer.

"I won't apologize," she said. "Not to Celeste. She doesn't deserve it."

His jaw locked. The last scrap of tenderness left his eyes. "When did you stop being able to tell right from wrong? Margot was the one who insulted you, not Celeste. Could you at least be reasonable?"

She lifted her eyes to his, and her voice went soft and terrible. "Killian. Did you plan this tonight?"

He refused to buy her a gift. He dumped her alone at the ballroom door. He sent her into a hall of Celeste's loyalists—Margot, who had hated her for years, and her coven.

He couldn't not have known.

For a second his eyes flickered. Guilt, panic. He steadied them fast, but she had seen it.

"There had to be consequences for what you did to Celeste," he said tightly. "People needed to see that you'd come out of Blackwell. Don't worry—the engagement still stands."

She had cried herself out. What was left felt like a knife between her ribs, and she kept bleeding anyway.

"How many times do I have to tell you," she whispered. "I didn't do it."

"Celeste set me up. It was her. And nobody, not one of you, has believed me for a single second."

Her own laugh came out dry. If he had ever been going to believe her, he would have by now.

"Killian. I'm calling off the engagement. Go marry Celeste."

He stared, stunned. Then he got angry. "Don't be ridiculous. Years of history and you throw it away in an instant?"

"I'm not being ridiculous, Killian. I'll make it official. I only ever thought of her as my sister—"

His phone buzzed. She glanced down before he could hide it. The contact read: Cece 💕.