---- Chapter 10 No.10 The man was Benedict Rhodes. It took Chase an hour. A quick search, a few calls. Isolde's stepson. A lawyer. Childhood friend. The pieces clicked into place with an unpleasant finality. She hadn't just run away. She had run to someone. The thought was a physical pain, a squeezing in his chest he refused to analyze. He spent the next few days in his hotel room, a state of suspended animation. He called Karis. "How are you?" he asked, the perfunctory question a chore. "I'm better," she said, her voice small and fragile. Her doctors had called him after the wharf incident, using words like "dissociative episodes" and "extreme emotional distress." He had paid the bills. It was a problem to be managed. "Chase, when are you coming home?" she asked, her voice trembling with need. "I miss you." "I'm handling things, Karis," he said, his voice sharp with impatience. "Is it about her?" The question was a whimper. ---- "This is about my life. My future. The one she tried to ruin," he said, the lie tasting sour in his mouth. He was trying to convince himself as much as her. "I just need to tie up loose ends." He hung up, the conversation leaving him feeling drained and disgusted. Karis was a weight, a mirror reflecting his own ugliness, and he couldn't stand to look. He thought about Clare. He replayed their last conversation on the mountain. He had been in control. It was for her own good. He repeated the words to himself like a mantra, but they felt hollow now. The memory of her face, cold and resolute as she walked away, undermined everything. He had made a mistake. A tactical error. He had pushed too hard. But it was fixable. Everything was fixable. He drove back to the house in Malibu, this time with a plan. He wouldn't be the stalker in the car. He would be the concerned fiancé. He walked up the long driveway, his heart pounding a nervous rhythm against his ribs. This was absurd. He shouldn't be nervous. He rang the doorbell. After a long moment, the door opened. It wasn't Clare. It was the man. Benedict. ---- He was taller than Chase had realized, with a quiet solidity that was immediately intimidating. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were wary. "Can | help you?" Ben asked. "I'm here to see Clare," Chase said, forcing a confident smile. "I'm her fiancé, Chase Strong." Ben's expression didn't flicker. "She doesn't want to see you.' "| think she'll want to hear what | have to say," Chase said, trying to push past him. Ben didn't move. He was like a wall. "I think you should leave." "Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" Chase snapped, his composure finally cracking. "Her new boyfriend?" "I'm her friend," Ben said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "And I'm telling you to get off this property before | call the police." Just then, Clare appeared in the hallway behind Ben. Her eyes met Chase's. There was no fear in them. No anger. Just a vast, weary distance. It was the look you'd give a stranger who'd bumped into you on the street. "It's okay, Ben," she said, her voice quiet. She stepped forward, and Ben moved slightly to the side, a protective presence at her shoulder. ---- She looked at Chase. "What do you want?" she asked. The question, so simple and direct, threw him off balance. He had prepared for a fight. He was not prepared for this chilling indifference. "| want to talk," he said. "We have nothing to talk about," she replied. "| flew across the country for you, Clare." "That was your choice," she said. "Now, please leave. You're trespassing." She turned to go back inside. "| paid for the wedding," he said, the words coming out in a desperate rush. "The lawyers. I'm taking care of Karis. I'm fixing everything. For us." She stopped and looked back at him, a flicker of something in her eyes. It looked like pity. "You're not fixing anything, Chase," she said. "You're just trying to buy your way out of what you did. But some things aren't for sale." She disappeared into the house. Ben gave him one last, hard look. ---- "You heard her," he said. Then he closed the door in Chase's face. The solid, definitive click echoed in the quiet air. Chase stood on the doorstep, utterly defeated. The power, the control, it had all vanished. He was on the outside, looking in. And he had no idea how to get back.