His hand caught Derek’s wrist before Derek could touch me, and in the same second, two men stepped from behind a cluster of guests. They were not Victor’s bodyguards.
They wore earpieces.
Then badges appeared.
“Derek Hail,” one of them said, “you are under arrest.”
The ballroom exploded.
Derek struggled, wild now, no longer polished, no longer charming. “For what? For a lover’s quarrel? For a kiss? She’s mine!”
The agent’s face did not change. “For assault, coercive control, witness intimidation, financial fraud, and conspiracy to obstruct a federal investigation.”
Derek stopped fighting.
Financial fraud.
That was the word that broke him.
He looked at Victor with pure hatred. “This was never about her.”
Victor’s eyes hardened. “It was always about her. You just gave us everything else while we were saving her.”
Derek turned to me, desperate now. “Lena, tell them. Tell them you made it up. Tell them you love me.”
There had been a time when those words would have shattered me.
Now they sounded small.
I looked at the man who had taught me to fear door hinges, footsteps, silence, apologies, flowers, and the word sweetheart.
Then I said, clearly enough for the entire room to hear, “I loved the man you pretended to be.”
Derek’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
The agents pulled him away beneath the chandelier where he had planned to display me like a trophy. Guests moved aside as if afraid his shame might stain them.