Page 207 of Enemies

“Don’t you? How is your lovely American?”

My head snaps around.

“Sylvie pointed out that you two are no longer together. She reads the papers,” he explains. “But then, my wife and I had a period of separation. All it accomplished was proving two things: that she was right and I was lonely.” His eyes crinkle at the corners.

My fingers flex on the railing. I still don’t trust Christian, and having Rae and I publicly linked is a bad idea for her safety.

“She’s playing in Ibiza this summer.”

Christian nods. “He understands many things, but not love. Keep it from him.”

“Then help me end this fast.” I can’t keep the urgency out of my voice. “I need information.”

He hesitates, glancing toward the laughter of his daughter and her boyfriend. “I still have much at stake.”

In that moment, I realize the truth. Christian is an old man who likes to talk, to feel important, but when it comes to doing important things, he’s a coward.

I shove myself off the railing.

“Where are you going?” Christian calls after me.

“What I know about war is this—most people don’t have the luxury of choosing whether they’re involved. They can’t sell their stake and disappear with their families.” I gesture pointedly at the yacht, and he folds his arms.

“I can’t help you the way you would like.”

I turn my back on him. “Call me when you can.”

10

RAE

Of the things that have changed since I got big, one hasn’t: Working on a song doesn’t get any easier.

Back at the hotel, I’m trying to prepare for my set at Bliss tomorrow night and experiment with new material. I keep reworking the melody, but it doesn’t have the vibe I want.

Last year, my tracks were moving towards a more joyful sound—stripped down harmonies, major chords.

Now, it’s more minors, but when I’m done, it feels thin rather than atmospheric.

Ash has gone out for a few hours, promising he’ll stay out of trouble. But now that he’s gone, work is harder because I keep thinking of someone else.

Harrison told me that his parents weren’t trying to get out of Mischa’s family’s business after all.

Harrison spent years deifying his parents only to watch the pedestal he’d put them on crumble. Learning that would fuck up a person. Especially when, that same day, Mischa burned down the club Harrison had spent months building.

He needed somewhere to put that anger, and turning it back on the man who caused all of this probably seemed a reasonable plan.

I wish he’d talked to me instead of leaving.

But it has me thinking that part of why he left was the man who has everything on paper still thinks he doesn’t deserve love.

Once, it was because his parents died and he felt responsible somehow. Now, he thinks he’s cut from the same cloth as they were.

I wish he could see that they must have loved him. Whatever they did and didn’t do, I’m grateful for that.

A text comes through, and I frown at it.

Annie: Has he shown yet?

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