Chapter 156
“You want to believe I’m the villain so badly, don’t you?” Jocelyn said quietly. The edge left her voice, replaced by something worn and tired. “It’s easier for you if I’m the bad guy. Then you don’t have to face the fact that you’re marrying a sociopath.”
Kieran paused. The vulnerability in her voice caught him somewhere unguarded. He looked at her — really looked. She was exhausted. But she didn’t look guilty.
“I just want you to take responsibility,” he muttered, his aggression losing some of its shape.
“I am,” she said. “By finding the truth.”
She opened her laptop and turned the screen toward him.
𝖡𝘦 𝗍𝗁е fі𝗋𝘀𝘵 𝘵o r𝗲a𝗱 on gаlոоve𝘭s.𝗰𝘰𝘮
“Look at this photo.”
It was an Instagram post from three years ago. Zack, younger and visibly drunk, at a beach party in Ibiza. His arm was around a girl in a bikini.
The girl was Aspen.
“She told everyone they only just met,” Jocelyn said. “She claimed she discovered him at a recital in Vienna last month.”
Kieran stared at the photo. The date stamp was unambiguous. Aspen was smiling that wide, practiced smile she deployed when she wanted something.
“Aspen knows people all across the music world,” he said, the rationalization sounding weak even as he said it. “She probably just forgot.”
“Forgot a week in Ibiza?” Jocelyn raised an eyebrow. “Get out, Kieran. Unless you have a warrant, get out of my office.”
He stood there for a moment, doubt seeping into his eyes like a slow-acting poison. Then he turned and left without another word.
In the hallway, Kieran pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Hey, baby,” Aspen answered, her voice bright and easy.
“Do you know Zack personally?” Kieran asked. “From before this week?”
“No, silly,” Aspen laughed. “Just professionally. Why?”
“Just asking,” he said.
He hung up. He stood in the corridor looking at his phone screen. The lie hung in the air between where he stood and where Aspen was, heavy and suffocating.
Back in her office, Jocelyn sat back in her chair and let the silence settle around her. Her hands were trembling. The adrenaline was draining away, leaving her hollow.
She still needed the final piece. The looped security footage proved deliberate tampering, but it showed nothing of who had actually moved the violin.
Her email pinged.
She clicked on it. The sender was a guest named Kyle.
Subject: GoPro Video
Hey — I saw the news. I was filming a time-lapse of the lobby art installation last night, and my camera was clamped to the railing on the second floor. It points directly at the service stairs. I took it down when the commotion started because I didn’t want it confiscated, but I just saw the reports and realized you might actually need it. Do you want it?
Jocelyn’s heart stopped.
She typed back immediately: YES.
Jocelyn found Kyle in the third-floor corridor — a tech tourist in a hoodie, backpack heavy with equipment.
“I was filming the light changing on the sculpture,” he explained, holding up his phone. “The camera was clamped to the railing the whole time.”