Chapter 8: The Velvet Rope
Lili
She still can’t shake Big Sur. The look in Daphne’s eyes on that cliff. The way her laughter rang through the house, too loud, too drunk. That cocaine gleam in her eyes, like she didn’t care if she made it to morning.
What the hell had Lili been thinking? A girls’ trip? With Daphne? Casey had been livid when she got back. Even with the note she left scrawled on a Post-it, stuck to the fridge, he’d been “worried sick.”
“What if I needed you?” he stammered. “What if something happened?”
Lili brushed it off, maybe a little too easily. “No cell service,” she said. “I figured you’d survive one stupid weekend.” She didn’t mention she’d nearly died on that cliff.
And yet… something felt off.
“Completely irresponsible,” Casey snapped. “Stealing my wife for some drug-fueled girls’ weekend? I mean, isn’t that what this was? Daphne’s a trainwreck. I can’t believe she pulled this.”
She rolled her eyes and offered a half-hearted apology. But the more he ranted, the stranger it felt. Shouldn’t he have been angrier at her? Instead, he seemed more pissed at Daphne.
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She moves to the window, pressing her forehead to the glass. Outside, the courtyard glows in pale morning light. Still quiet. Still peaceful…
Then, movement. Wendy glides down the stairs, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, her Delvaux swinging at her wrist. Like she’s untouchable, Lili thinks. Sleek. Armored. Ruthless. She watches Wendy stride toward the gate, and something clicks. Maybe ruthless isn’t so bad.
“Wendy! Wait!”
Wendy glances back, already bored. “Can this wait, Lili? I’ve got a meeting—”
“I need your help,” Lili says, too fast. “Someone’s been… trolling my brand’s Instagram. At first I thought it was bots or whatever, but it’s getting weird. I need to find out who’s behind it.”
“And you think I can help because…?”
“You work with big names—authors, influencers, people who deal with communications nightmares. If anyone can navigate this kind of thing, it’s you, right?”
“You looking for a publicist? Or a security expert?”
“I need a hacker.”
Wendy just stares at her for a beat. It’s almost cute, how hard Lili’s spiraling over something so embarrassingly trivial. Not quite main character energy, but she’s trying, at least.
“I don’t know what this is about,” Wendy says, pulling out her phone and hitting Airdrop. “And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to. But his name’s Park. He’s expensive and very discreet. Finds answers, no matter how deep they’re buried.”
Lili’s phone buzzes. Contact received.
“Just be careful. Sometimes the truth just makes things worse.”
And with that, Wendy’s gone, heels clicking off across the stone, leaving Lili alone in the courtyard, staring after her.
She looks down at her phone. At the name. Still rattled. Still paranoid. But resolute. Because whoever’s been watching her? Now, she’s watching back.