Aiden did end up speaking to Vivienne Henfrey, the reporter who’d made it clear she was not a fan of Kessler’s, and who’d practically begged Aiden to go on air. I watched Aiden on the news from home, my heart exploding with pride at seeing his handsome and determined face as he shared a part of his life that I knew he’d rather bury so far inside of him that his subconscious didn’t even know it was there. I know how hard it was for him to share his past, but he was confident as he told the world about how he is the son of Andrew Kessler. He explained how Andrew left when his mother was sick and pregnant, and how he hasn’t tried to contact his family since she died.

He was the same Aiden as usual—cold, stoic, and deadly beautiful, looking even more intimidating with the bruised jaw and ten stitches on the side of his forehead. And the world couldn’t help falling in love with him, right then and there. That’s the thing about Aiden. He has that presence and charm—even on camera, even when he’s not trying—that just makes people gravitate toward him, that makes people like him, makes them want him to like them, even when everything about him screams don’t mess with me.

Vivienne took Aiden’s story and old family photos and ran with it, destroying Kessler’s platform and family-friendly agenda with it. She basically proved that Kessler is the biggest hypocrite on the planet and doesn’t actually care or live by any of the issues he campaigned on. Obviously, Kessler denied everything. His team worked quickly and efficiently at his response and recovery from this new revelation, and as far as I know, he has no plans of dropping out of the race for governor.

We were all together when we heard Kessler say as much, and Charlotte asked, “He’ll never recover from this, right? People will think he’s an awful person or a phony or a hypocrite and won’t elect him if he chooses not to drop out? Right?”

Annalisa snorted as she replied. “You never know—worse people have done worse things in this country and have still been elected to high places of power, so . . .”

We all deflated a bit after that, knowing it was true, but at least Andrew’s under more public scrutiny and won’t make any attempts to take my or Aiden’s life anytime soon.

Hopefully.

1

No matter how many times I’ve seen my face and body all bruised and scraped up, I’ve never gotten used to it. Even though it’s been just over a week since Aiden and I were in the car accident, I feel like the bruise on my cheek is taking way too long to go away; like it’s stubbornly remaining just to mock me, to remind me of what I’ve been through. My nose has healed from the accidental elbow to the face Mason dealt me at the beach house, but the rest of my bruises are taking their sweet time. Aiden’s injuries were worse than mine—I didn’t need stitches, at least—but every glance in the mirror reminds me of Harvey, of Andrew, and of how they’re still out there, getting away with their crimes, with their attempt to kill us.