Page 61 of Until She's Mine
Two hours later, I’m let go with a warning to stay available for further questions. Tobias is standing by the precinct doors when I step outside, the first light of dawn painting the sky in muted grays. He’s holding a cigarette loosely between his fingers,though I don’t think he’s taken a single drag. The smoke curls upward, vanishing into the cold morning air.
“You’re lucky,” he says. “Claire’s parents are too preoccupied with their grief to ask the right questions. For now.”
I don’t respond, my hands tucked into the pockets of my coat to hide their trembling.
“Let me drive you home,” Tobias says, flicking the cigarette into the gutter without waiting for my reply. His Porsche idles at the curb, sleek and black, reflecting the pale streaks of dawn.
I hesitate, my breath visible in the morning’s chill. My mind keeps replaying the night’s events: Claire’s fall, her lifeless body on the cobblestones, the forged sketch now evidence of a crime I hadn’t meant to commit. Tobias watches me, his expression unreadable but for the faintest glimmer of something sharper beneath his American boy-next-door charm.
“Get in,” he says again, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”
I slide into the passenger seat. Tobias shuts the door with a soft click and rounds the car, his stride unhurried. He slides into the driver’s seat and turns to me, his gaze lingering before he starts the engine.
He knows where my dorm is. It’s the same building where Claire lived. The same building where I’d pushed her.
When we pull up to my dorm, he doesn’t turn off the ignition. Instead, he leans back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the building’s ivy-covered façade.
“This doesn’t have to be the end of you.”
I freeze, my hand on the door handle. “What do you mean?”
“You’re talented,” Tobias says, his voice smooth as silk. “Beautiful. Resourceful. That forgery? It was good. Really good. Claire might have noticed, but most wouldn’t. That kind of skill is rare. Valuable.”
The compliment doesn’t sit right. It feels more like a trap than praise. My grip on the handle tightens, my knuckles whitening.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smirks. “You’re a terrible liar.”
I swallow hard. “What do you want from me?”
Tobias’ voice drops to a whisper. “I want to help you. The Vassers won’t stop until they have someone to blame for Claire’s death. And right now, that someone is you.”
My breath catches. “You think they’ll come after me?”
“They already are,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “But I can make this go away. For a price.”
“What kind of price?” My voice sounds far away.
Tobias leans in, his Rolex glinting under the fluorescent lights. “Claire was supposed to be my perfect high-society bride. Now, I need a replacement. A stunning wife for fundraisers and galas, someone who can charm the right people and keep her mouth shut. You’ll do nicely.” His finger traces my jawline. “You’re a nobody. No family to make trouble. Just a talented little forger who’ll do exactly as she’s told.”
The room tilts. “You’re joking.”
“Dead serious.” He produces a contract from his briefcase in the backseat. It’s an engagement agreement with more clauses than a Rembrandt painting insurance policy. “Sign this, and tonight never happened. Refuse, and I’ll personally make sure the Vassers know every detail of your little forgery scheme—and how it led to their daughter’s death.” His voice is calm, almost conversational, as if he’s discussing the weather rather than blackmailing me into a sham engagement.
I scan the document. The terms are obscene—public appearance schedule, social media control, and even an ovulation calendar to be added in the appendix. I stare at the contract until the words blur together.
I think of debt piling up like a mountain I could never climb. Of my mother’s last hospital bills still unpaid. Of Claire’s broken body on the rain-slicked stones.
The pen trembles in my hand as I hover it over the dotted line.
I wonder if it’s the same agreement Claire signed. Or is it just a failsafe if his main plan fell through?
Tobias smiles as I sign away my life. “Smart girl.” He tucks the contract away. “We’ll announce the engagement after you graduate and get into a prestigious art museum as a conservator. It’ll seem perfect. The rising star in the art world engaged to the dashing heir of Blackwood & Associates.”
Lightning forks across the sky as I climb out of the car. Raindrops hit my face, and somewhere in the distance, sirens wail.
I don’t look back.
