chapter 8

I saw Vincent again three years later at a street café in Frostholm.

I'd set up a portrait booth outside for a charity event, and my studio assistant was helping me run it—Matthias Crown, who'd been my classmate back at art school.

I'd just handed a finished portrait to a customer when I heard someone say "Avery" in a shaky, familiar voice.

I looked up and saw a man shoving his way to the front and dropping down onto the stool in front of me.

"Sir, if you want a portrait done, you need to go wait in line like everyone else," Matthias said. He didn't recognize the guy, so he stepped forward and looked ready to physically move him.

But Vincent didn't budge, and his eyes never left my face.

"You've got the wrong person, sir. I'm not the Avery you're looking for." I pulled out my ID and held it up. "My name is Jordan Hartwell, and I'm a legal citizen of this country.

"Please go to the back of the line, or I'm going to call security."

"No. You're Avery Collins." Vincent's face turned bright red and the veins in his neck bulged out. He reached across and grabbed my wrist hard.

"I don't care how much you lie or how you changed your face and your identity. You can't change your handwriting in a short amount of time.

"I saw your signature on the bail document. I recognized your handwriting immediately.

"And if you still won't admit it, we can go to a hospital right now and do a DNA test. I collected a sample from the toothbrush you left behind. So do you dare come with me or not?"

I smiled and felt strangely calm about the whole thing.

I waved Matthias over and motioned for him to take my spot and keep drawing portraits for the customers waiting in line.

I ordered two coffees for us and sat down across from Vincent.

To be honest, I'd known this conversation was coming from the moment I decided to sign his bail papers. I wasn't surprised by any of it. If anything, I felt relieved.

"Avery, come back home with me!"

Vincent's knuckles turned white around his coffee cup, and his eyes were bloodshot. "I won't ask why you did what you did, because I deserve whatever consequences come from it.

"I spent three years in prison thinking about everything. Treating you like Serena's replacement—I was just stuck in my own obsession. The truth is, I fell in love with who you are, not just your face...

"That fire—I was so wrong. My selfishness pushed you away, and I know that. I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just want us to have another chance. Please?"

"No," I smiled and took a casual sip of my coffee.

"Why not?" Vincent's eyes went wide. "You'd really rather stay here drawing portraits for pocket change instead of coming back with me to start up the studio again?"

"Who said I'm doing this to make money?" I pulled out my appointment letter from the art academy and slid it across the table to him.

"I'm a professor at Frostholm International Academy of Art now, and I'm also a partner in a chain of gallery exhibitions. As for the street portraits? That's just volunteer work for charity fundraising."

"Go back with you? You've got to be kidding." I let out a cold laugh. "Haven't I suffered enough spending five years cramped in that studio being your model? I finally escaped that hellhole. Why would I ever jump back in?"

"It's not the same anymore. I'm a famous tattoo artist now..."

"That was three years ago, Vincent." I cut him off without mercy. "The day you went to prison for assault, everything you'd built disappeared."

Christy had told me that shortly after Vincent went to prison, his assistant Lily sold all his designs to other tattoo studios for serious money.

Harbor City didn't have room for Vincent anymore. All those studios he used to dominate found out he got released, and now they were blocking him from working anywhere in the surrounding cities.

"Even so... we could open a studio under your name then. Or you could go back to painting, and we could finally have our wedding and build a good life together. I could even be the one who stays home and supports you—"

"Hold on. Don't say 'we.'" I waved my hand impatiently. "You're you, and I'm me. You made your choices. Don't drag me into them. I'm doing just fine here."

"Avery!" Vincent shot up from his seat, and all that pleading look in his eyes vanished completely.

"I spent every single moment in prison regretting everything and thinking about you. I finally got out and spent every penny I had on a plane ticket to find you, and this is how you treat me?

"Yeah, I screwed up back then, but it's been three years. Don't you think it's time to let it go? Even if you can't forgive me for our five years together, at least remember I spent three years in prison for you and destroyed my entire career!"

"You were the one who got pissed off when Serena lied to you, and you were the one who lost your temper and hit someone. How is any of that my fault?" I let out a cold laugh. "I didn't report you for setting that fire and burning my face, so I'd say I've been pretty damn generous. And now you've got the nerve to show up here and guilt-trip me?"

"I don't care!" Vincent's eyes turned red, and he grabbed my arm hard enough that I couldn't pull away no matter how much I tried.

"You're coming back with me, and we're getting married! Every single second I suffered in that prison was so I could see you again and start over with you!"

I struggled as hard as I could, but Vincent's arm locked around my waist like a vice.

Just when I didn't know what to do, a figure flashed past me.

I heard the sharp crack of breaking bone, and Vincent hit the ground.

When I opened my eyes again, Matthias was standing in front of me like a human shield.

"Who the hell are you?" Vincent clutched his twisted wrist, his face twisted in pain. "I'm talking to my fiancée. This has nothing to do with you!"

"She's not your fiancée—she's mine!"

As Matthias said those words, his fingers trembled slightly, and my whole body went stiff.

Since when was I his fiancée?

Sure, there'd been rumors over the past couple years that Matthias had feelings for me, but he'd never actually confessed or anything.

"I don't care what kind of history you two have. Three years should've been enough to wipe the slate clean!" Matthias's protective energy was off the charts. "If you keep harassing her, I'll make sure you get a taste of what prison's like here in Frostholm."

Vincent flinched and looked at me, like he was waiting for me to say something.

I turned my face away and leaned against Matthias's shoulder.

"Avery, you really moved on? You really don't want me anymore?" Vincent asked in disbelief.

I sneered, "When you hooked up with Serena, you didn't bother asking if I was okay with it!"

Matthias's arm tightened around my shoulders. "I already called the cops. They'll be here any minute. If you don't want more trouble, you better buy a ticket and get back to your own country."

Outside the coffee shop, I could hear the wail of police sirens getting closer.

Vincent glanced toward the door, gritted his teeth, and slipped out through the side exit in the back kitchen.

I watched until his figure disappeared around the corner, and only then did Matthias reluctantly let me go.

I smiled and smoothed out the wrinkles in my clothes. My shoulder was soaked with his nervous sweat.

"Since when are Frostholm's cops this efficient?" I looked up at him and smirked.

Matthias scratched the back of his head. "You caught me. I asked one of the customers outside to play a siren sound on their phone."

I gave him a knowing smile but didn't say anything.

"Well, I guess we're not gonna be able to run the booth today. Let's pack everything up and take the donations to the children's home.

"Why are you just standing there? Are you gonna make me ask twice? Mr. Fiancé?"

A flush crept up from the back of Matthias's neck, and he turned around nervously to meet my eyes. I was looking at him with a gentle smile. "Coming right now!"