Page 69 of Second to None

“I’m gonna need you to stay here.”

“‘Here’ as in…?”

“With Levi and Emily. There’s—Simone called me. There’s footage of…” I swallowed. “Of us. The three of us. And it’s trending.”

Frank cursed under his breath. “Why didn’t she call me?”

“She called me first.” And was probably still waiting for me to call her back. Right.Later. “So, anyway, you’ll have to stay here with them. Make sure they’re all right.”

“And let you travel alone?” Frank shook his head, expression shifting into a frown. “I can’t do that, Cass.”

“They need it more than I do.” It felt abruptly essential, something to anchor me. Even if Levi had kicked me out, even if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore, even if I’d been a fool to believe we could be—stop. Even then, it was my job to protect them. I’d dragged them into this mess, and I would get them through it.

“Debatable,” Frank said, “but either way, I’m staying with you.”

“But—”

“Let me finish,” he said. “This is a bit of a celebrity spot, so there are private security companies around here. And I got in touch with a couple of them already, just in case. I’ll arrange something.”

“And for when they get home?”

“I’ll reach out to some contacts,” Frank said, “see who’s good in Manchester. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Oh. Good.

“Thank you.” I sagged back into the upholstery, felt a bit like a puppet with its strings cut. What next? Simone. A statement. Okay, yes. That’d keep me busy for another minute. And then—something else, anything. Check into the plans for next year’s tour. Look through the final candidate list to replace my guitar player, who was about to have a baby. Reschedule the songwriting sessions my assistant had canceled so I could be here. With Levi. My mind skittered away from his name like a cockroach evading the light.

I’d just… I’d stay busy, and eventually, I’d remember how to breathe without choking up.

I’d done it once. I could do it again.

CHAPTER17

Levi

Porto Cervo, Saturday, August 30th

Footsteps, fading.

Then silence.

It pressed in with the weight of a thousand moons, a shipwreck between my ribs. I stood alone in the bedroom, my head filled with the echo of my own voice tossing ugly accusations at him, the soft lilt of his words just an undercurrent.‘I’m still in love with you.’As if. He just felt sorry, trying to rewrite our history with apologies and empty declarations.

No take-backs.

Each time I blinked, the walls crept closer—like a crowd surging forward, like being trapped in a car that wouldn’t move, strangers’ hands flat against the windows. Not my life anymore. Still Cass’s, though. World tours and magazine covers, countless voices chanting his name. Incompatible with a kid and a cat and a job that came with a fixed salary at the end of the month.

Done. I’d ripped off the plaster before the wound could fester, like some twisted form of mercy. No tears, not this time—I wasn’t that guy anymore. So. Out of the room and down the hallway, towards the kitchen. I’d grab a coffee like this was normal, keep moving because I had to.

My mum was there.

Somehow, my brain tripped over the laugh lines around her eyes as she measured coffee grounds, the way her reading glasses slipped a little down her nose.Normal. Right. But this morning, it hurt because maybe a small, stubborn part of me had expected the world to sit up and take note. Of course not.

“Mornin’,” I managed, slightly scratchy.

She sent me a smile. “Hi, honey. You’re up early.”

I gave some noncommittal grunt and moved to the counter, half-turned away to evade close scrutiny. Briefly, I thought she might let it go.

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