Chapter 3 IVY MORGAN'S POV

"You're not letting her in?"

Nicholas didn't reply. He just stood there, with his phone to his ear, jaw clenched so tight I could practically hear his teeth grind.

"Is she downstairs?" I pressed.

"Yes."

"And you're just going to let her stand in the lobby?"

He hung up and stared at me. "Her name is Celeste. She's Eliza's sister."

"Eliza. Your dead wife."

"Don't say it like that."

"You want me to say deceased? Late? Spiritually departed? Nicholas, you can't pretend this isn't a mess."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "After the funeral she disappointed. Now suddenly she's banging on my door? No. She's here for a reason."

"Yeah. The same reason you want a fake wife. Custody."

He looked at me. "She can't be trusted."

"Then let me speak to her."

He blinked. "What?"

"You're all ice and legal threats. Let me soften the room."

"You don't know her."

"No. But I'm not the one she hates either."

He remained rooted to the spots.

"Do you want me to get this paycheck or not?"

That finally got a reaction. He sent his hand through his hair. "One conversation. Five minutes."

"I'll need ten."

Celeste wasn't what I expected.

She had fire-red hair twisted into a knot, sharp cheekbones, and a pale beige coat cinched around her like armor. She was pacing the marble lobby when I stepped off the elevator.

She saw me instantly.

"You're not Nicholas," she said, voice clipped.

"No. I'm Ivy."

She lifted an eyebrow. "New assistant?"

"Fiancée."

Celeste froze.

"Excuse me?"

I smiled, professional and warm. "Nicholas and I are engaged. He asked me to speak with you."

"And he sent you down here like I'm some delivery package?"

"He's with Lena. It's been a long day."

She gave me a look that could freeze traffic.

"And you're what? A PR stunt?"

"Just a woman trying to help."

Celeste narrowed her eyes. "You think he's stable enough to raise a five-year-old?"

I held her gaze. "I think he's doing his best."

"His best involved leaving my niece with a nanny who doesn't know how to keep track of her."

"So you heard."

"I have ears."

"And a motive," I added softly.

She stepped forward. "You don't know anything about me."

"Then tell me."

She hesitated.

"Ten minutes," I said. "You have ten minutes to convince me this isn't a custody ambush."

Celeste's jaw twitched. But then she walked past me and toward the elevator.

We sat in the smaller sitting room on the second floor, one with less glass and more comfort. Nicholas stayed upstairs. I asked him to. No use pouring gasoline on fire.

Celeste stared at the painting over the fireplace.

"He replaced her things," she said. "I recognize nothing."

"It's been two years."

"Not for Lena."

I leaned back. "You want custody?"

"I want what's best for her."

"And you think that's you?"

"I think that's not him."

"Why?"

Celeste exhaled slowly. "Because he was already falling apart before Eliza died. He worked late. I traveled constantly. Left her to raise their daughter alone. When she got sick, he didn't even take time off. He bought her a better hospital room instead."

"That's not the same as not caring."

"No. But it's what a man with a heart made of stock reports does."

I studied her. "So why now?"

"What?"

"Why show up now? After two years. After no visits. Why today?"

She looked away.

"That's what I thought," I said.

"You think I want her trust fund?"

"I think Nicholas thinks you do."

"That man doesn't think. He calculates."

"Still. I haven't heard your answer to the question."

Celeste's hand shook slightly as she took out her purse. She pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table.

It was Lena. Younger. With a woman I assumed was Eliza.

They were both laughing. Hair tangled by the wind. Sunlight everywhere.

"She's all I have left of my sister," Celeste whispered. "And he's turning her into a shadow."

I touched the photo gently. "Have you asked Lena how she feels?"

"She's a child."

"She's not stupid. She has opinions."

"I don't want her to be confused."

"Then don't. Talk to her."

"And what if she wants me in her life?"

"Then Nicholas is going to have to deal with that."

Celeste stared at me. "You're not what I expected."

"Neither are you."

She stood. "Tell him I didn't come here to fight. Not yet. I just want to see her. Once. That's all I want."

"I'll tell him."

She walked to the door. Then paused. "One more thing."

"Yes?"

"How long have you been engaged?"

I didn't blink. "Three weeks."

"And you already live here?"

I smiled. "It's a fast love."

She studied me. "You don't lie well."

"Good. I hate liars."

She left without another word.

I found Nicholas in his office, staring at a security feed of the lobby.

"That was fast," he said.

"She's gone."

"Did she say anything useful?"

"She said a lot."

He turned in his chair.

"I think you need to let her see Lena," I said. "Supervised. Brief. But something."

"No."

"Nicholas."

"I said no."

"She's not going away. You have no idea what she'll do next."

"Yes, I do."

"Then let me help."

He stood abruptly. "You're already helping."

"By playing pretend?"

"By being here."

I folded my arms. "What aren't you letting me know?"

He stared out the window, avoiding the question.

"Nicholas."

"Celeste wants custody. Not just visits. Full guardianship. She filed a motion last week."

My stomach dropped. "You didn't tell me that."

"You didn't need to know."

"I'm supposed to be your fiancée. I should know everything."

He turned to me, voice low. "If I told you everything, you'd run."

"Try me."

"Eliza's death wasn't... clean."

I stepped closer. "What are you saying?"

He hesitated. Then said it.

"There was an investigation. An anonymous tip. Someone suggested I let her die."

My heart skipped.

"Are you saying...?"

"I didn't hurt her. But someone thinks I did. And they're still watching."

"Who?"

He didn't answer.

Then his phone rang again. He stared at the screen.

"Who is it?" I asked.

He showed me.

Unknown Caller

He picked up. "Thorne."

There was a pause.

Then he stiffened.

He put the call on the speaker.

A distorted voice said, "You shouldn't have brought the girl back. She sees too much. Just like her mother did."