---- Chapter 9 Keyla stood at the railing, her chest heaving. The spot where Janette had been was empty. There was only the sound of the churning water below. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at her throat. She had done it. She had actually done it. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to smooth down her dress. No one saw. No one heard over the music. She was safe. She turned and walked back toward the party, her steps a little too quick, her smile a little too bright. She found Garrison by the cake, a ridiculously large confection shaped like a diamond. "There you are," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "| was looking for you." He held up a small, velvet box. "Happy birthday." Inside was a pair of diamond earrings that matched the necklace. Keyla let out a practiced squeal of delight. "Oh, Garrison, they're perfect! You have to put them on for me." As he fumbled with the clasp, his brow was furrowed. He kept glancing around the deck. "Have you seen Janette?" he asked, his voice tight. ---- "That miserable cow?" Keyla scoffed, forcing a light laugh. "I think she went to sulk in her cabin. She was trying to ruin my birthday, you know." Garrison's jaw clenched. "Right." The unease didn't leave him. Throughout the rest of the party, he was distracted, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd. He answered questions absently, his laughter forced. "Garrison, darling, you're not paying attention to me," Keyla pouted, pulling him onto the dance floor. He complied, but his movements were stiff. He was looking over her shoulder, searching As the party wound down and guests began to disembark, his anxiety grew into a palpable storm. He didn't get off the yacht. He started a systematic search, his voice growing louder and more frantic. "Janette? Janette!" He called her phone. It went straight to voicemail. Again and again. He finally cornered Keyla as she was about to leave. "Where is she? I'm not joking, Keyla. What did you say to her?" Keyla summoned her best tears. "She was horrible to me, Garrison! She said you were just using me, that you were going to leave me!" ---- She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her clutch-a note she had forged earlier in Janette's handwriting. "And she left this. She said she couldn't take it anymore and that she was leaving. For good." Garrison snatched the note, his face pale as he read the words. It was filled with accusations, with despair. It was believable. "She... she just left?" he asked, a strange mix of anger and something else-relief?-in his voice. "I'm so sorry, darling," Keyla sniffled, burying her face in his chest. "l know this is hard for you." He stood there for a long moment, then slowly put his arms around her. "It's not your fault. She was always unstable." He made the decision right then. He wouldn't look for her. He would let her go. It was easier this way. "Let's get out of here," Keyla whispered. "Let's go somewhere and forget all about her." She led him to a dark, noisy bar downtown. She kept his glass full, her hand tracing patterns on his arm. She was an expert at this, at lulling his conscience to sleep. She slipped a small, crushed pill into his last drink. He didn't even notice. By the time they left the bar, he was unsteady on his feet, his ---- vision blurring at the edges. "My place is closer," she purred, guiding him into a taxi In her hotel room, he felt a strange heat spreading through his body. His mind was foggy, his inhibitions melting away. Keyla's hands were on him, her lips on his neck. "Garrison," she whispered, her voice husky. "Tell me you love me. He was barely conscious, but the words came, slurred and automatic. "| love you." She smiled in the darkness, a triumphant, predatory smile. She finally had him, all to herself. Freelance photographer Violet Beck is forced into an engagement with CEO Roy Payne. He is everything her wild heart rebels against: proper, predictable, and painfully kind. But love has a way of devel...