Chapter 9

The final day arrived. The day of my "death." It was also, ironically, the fifth anniversary of our contract.

I woke him up that morning, a strange calm settled over me. "Get dressed," I said. "We're going out."

He looked at me, his eyes full of suspicion. "Where?"

"It's our anniversary," I said simply. "We're going to celebrate."

He didn't argue. He just got dressed, his movements stiff and resentful.

I took him to the marina, to my family's yacht. The crew was waiting. We set out onto the water as the sun began to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky in fiery shades of orange and pink. The city skyline glittered behind us. It was achingly beautiful.

Even Caleb seemed affected by it. He stood at the railing, the wind whipping through his hair, a strange, contemplative look on his face.

The sharp ring of his phone shattered the moment. It was a work call. His tech project, the one he'd been pouring his life into, was about to launch. I knew from the novel that it would be a massive success. It was the beginning of his ascent to billionaire status.

It was the turning point in his life. And in mine.

"If you had all the money in the world," I asked him when he hung up, "what would you do?"

He looked at me, a flicker of the old coldness in his eyes. "Whatever I want."

I knew what that meant. He would pay me back, sever our contract, and be free of me forever.

"I see," I said, turning to look at the sunset. I would save him the trouble.

A white-jacketed waiter began setting our table on the deck. The food was exquisite, the champagne was chilled. The sun was a perfect half-circle of fire on the water. We sat in silence, the space between us a chasm.

I had no appetite. He barely touched his food.

Then, his phone rang again.

The name on the screen flashed in the twilight. Frances.

He picked up. Her voice, thin and panicked and laced with tears, was audible even from where I sat.

"Caleb! I... I was in an accident! A car hit me..." she sobbed. "I'm scared. Can you come? I'm at Lenox Hill Hospital."

He went pale. He looked at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of panic and apology. It was the first time he had ever looked at me like he was sorry for anything.

"I..." he started.

I put down my fork. "You should go," I said, my voice even.

"But... our anniversary..." he stammered, looking genuinely torn for the first time.

"An anniversary can be celebrated another time," I said calmly, echoing the words he would say in the novel. "She needs you."

He didn't hesitate. He stood up, his chair scraping against the deck. "You're right. I'm sorry, Jaliyah. I'll make it up to you. We'll do this again, I promise."

He leaned in as if to kiss my cheek, a gesture of habit, but stopped himself. He just looked at me for a long, strange moment. I saw something flicker in his eyes, something I'd never seen before, something that almost looked like... regret. A sense of loss.

Then he turned and rushed off the yacht, his phone already pressed to his ear.

I watched him go, a small, sad smile on my face.

"No, Caleb," I whispered to the empty air. "There won't be a next time."

I sat alone and watched the last sliver of sun disappear below the horizon. The sky turned a deep, bruised purple. The lights of the yacht flickered on, casting a lonely glow on the empty table.

A man in a dark uniform approached me. It was the man from the clandestine service.

"Everything is ready, Miss Clements," he said, using my new name for the first time.

"Tell me the plan again," I said.

"A body has been procured," he said, his voice low and professional. "A Jane Doe from the city morgue. Similar height, weight, and hair color. She'll be dressed in your clothes. We will stage a fall from the aft deck. The currents are strong here; she'll be discovered washed ashore tomorrow morning. By the time the authorities make a positive identification, you will be on a flight to Lisbon."

I nodded. "No complications?"

"None. Jaliyah Osborne will be declared dead by morning. Krystal Clements will be born."

It was all arranged. A perfect, seamless death.

I stood up and walked off the yacht, not looking back. On the pier, I took one last look at the glittering skyline of New York City. The city of my birth, the city of my gilded cage.

I put on a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. I took my phone out of my pocket, snapped the SIM card in half, and dropped the pieces into the dark water.

Then I turned and walked towards the waiting car that would take me to the airport, and to my new life.

I was giving him to her. It was my final gift. The evil villainess was officially exiting the stage.