He Spoiled His Fake Sister So I Disappeared Forever

Chapter 8: He Finally Tried to Stop Me

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For six years, I had waited for him to care whether I stayed.

Now, when I had only three minutes left to disappear, he finally did.

Sterling stood between me and the elevator doors, barefoot and shirtless, his injured arm trapped in its sling and his breathing ragged from running across the penthouse.

I had never seen him like this.

Not after losing a billion dollars in market value during a regulatory investigation.

Not when his father suffered a stroke.

Not when I smashed his Patek Philippe against the floor and screamed that I wanted to leave him.

Sterling Vance was always composed.

But now his eyes were fixed on my leather tote as though it contained a bomb.

"Move," I said.

His gaze snapped to mine.

"Where are you going?"

"I told you last night. Research."

"At four forty-two in the morning?"

"Yes."

"With your key left on the table?"

I said nothing.

"With your credit card returned?"

Still nothing.

"With your resident access scheduled for termination?"

My heart skipped.

That one surprised me.

"How do you know about that?"

"Building security contacted me twenty minutes ago."

Of course they had.

This entire building practically belonged to Sterling.

His eyes were terrifyingly focused now.

"Your medical proxy authorization was revoked too."

I tightened my grip around the tote.

"That's my right."

"Your domestic partner benefits terminate at five."

"Also my right."

"Your phone plan is being transferred."

"Sterling—"

"Your deposits into our shared accounts stopped yesterday."

Each sentence came faster than the last.

"You canceled your supplementary card. You removed yourself from the penthouse authorization list. You packed a suitcase. And now you're trying to walk out before sunrise without telling me where you're going."

His voice dropped.

"This isn't a research trip."

I looked at the clock.

4:43.

Two minutes.

"Move."

"No."

"Sterling."

"Tell me where you're going."

"I can't."

"Then you're not leaving."

I stared at him.

Something inside me went cold.

"You don't own me."

"I didn't say I did."

"You're physically blocking the elevator."

"Because you're refusing to explain why you're disappearing in the middle of the night."

The word hit the air between us.

Disappearing.

My heartbeat stumbled.

Sterling saw it.

His eyes narrowed.

"That's what this is, isn't it?"

I remained silent.

"You're disappearing."

Behind him, Liana stood frozen near the staircase.

Her expression had changed completely. There was no sleepy confusion anymore.

Only alertness.

Sterling stepped into the elevator.

The doors reopened fully behind him.

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Who are you going with?"

"Sterling, stop."

"Who?"

"My research team."

"Names."

"No."

"Institution."

"No."

"Destination."

"No."

His face became frighteningly blank.

That expression used to terrify boardrooms.

It no longer terrified me.

"Move," I repeated.

"No."

I reached for the elevator controls.

Sterling caught my wrist.

"Let go."

"Tell me where you're going."

"Let go of me."

"Maeve—"

"You had six years to ask where I was going."

He froze.

My voice remained quiet.

"You had six years to ask where I worked late, where I went when I couldn't sleep, where I hid after someone chased me through Manhattan, where I sat while my father was fighting for his life."

His grip loosened slightly.

"You never cared where I was then."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"I knew where you were."

I laughed once.

"Knowing my location isn't the same as caring whether I'm safe."

Something flashed across his eyes.

"I called the police when you were chased."

"After telling me to solve the problem myself."

"You were capable of doing that."

"And Liana wasn't capable of calling security from a nightclub bathroom?"

Silence.

For the first time, I had said her name.

Sterling's expression changed.

Behind him, Liana went rigid.

"What does Liana have to do with this?" he asked.

I stared at him.

Everything.

She had everything to do with it.

And somehow nothing at all.

Because the real problem had never been Liana.

It was Sterling.

"Nothing," I said.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Say nothing when you mean something."

I almost smiled.

"You're becoming remarkably talented at reading emotions."

His eyes darkened.

The clock changed.

4:44.

One minute.

My phone vibrated.

I didn't need to look.

Sterling did.

"Who is that?"

"My ride."

"Cancel it."

"No."

"Maeve."

"I'm leaving."

He stepped closer.

"Then I'm coming with you."

My stomach dropped.

"You can't."

"Watch me."

"Sterling, this isn't one of your business meetings. You cannot simply force your way into it."

"Then give me enough information to know you're safe."

"Why?"

He stared at me.

"Because—"

He stopped.

One word.

That was all he needed.

Because I love you.

Because I care about you.

Because losing you scares me.

Any one of them would have meant everything once.

Sterling's mouth tightened.

"Because your current behavior suggests impaired judgment."

There it was.

I laughed softly.

"Thank you."

His brows drew together.

"For what?"

"For reminding me why I'm leaving."

The elevator clock changed to 4:45.

My phone vibrated again.

This time I looked.

[VEHICLE ON SITE. TWO-MINUTE WINDOW.]

Sterling saw only the glow of the screen.

"Give me the phone."

"No."

"Maeve."

"Get out of the elevator."

"Not until—"

"Sterling?"

Liana's voice interrupted us.

Neither of us turned.

"Sterling, I don't feel well."

His body reacted before his mind did.

His head turned toward her.

I watched it happen.

The smallest movement.

The most predictable movement in the world.

Liana had one hand pressed against the railing.

"I'm dizzy again."

Sterling's grip disappeared from my wrist.

"Sit down."

"I think my head—"

He stepped out of the elevator.

Only one step.

That was all I needed.

I pressed the lobby button.

Sterling heard the doors moving.

He spun around.

"Maeve."

The doors began closing.

His face changed instantly.

"Wait."

I looked at him through the narrowing gap.

Liana whispered his name behind him.

Sterling looked trapped between us.

For six years, I had wondered what would happen if he ever had to choose.

I didn't need to wonder anymore.

He had already made the choice thousands of times.

"Take care of her," I said.

"Maeve, don't—"

The elevator doors closed.

Sterling disappeared.

Silence.

My knees nearly collapsed.

I pressed my back against the elevator wall.

The numbers began falling.

Fifty-one.

Fifty.

Forty-nine.

My entire body started shaking.

Not because I wanted to go back.

Because I finally understood that I was actually leaving.

Forty-seven.

Forty-six.

My phone rang.

Sterling.

I declined it.

He called again.

Decline.

Again.

Decline.

Then messages flooded the screen.

[STERLING: Come back upstairs.]

[STERLING: Maeve.]

[STERLING: Answer me.]

[STERLING: I am not joking.]

[STERLING: Tell me where you're going.]

The elevator continued descending.

Thirty-eight.

Thirty-seven.

Another message.

[STERLING: At least tell me when you're coming back.]

My thumb hovered above the screen.

Five years.

Maybe never, emotionally.

I locked the phone.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-three.

The elevator suddenly jerked.

Then stopped.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Floor eighteen.

The doors remained closed.

"No."

I pressed the lobby button.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

My phone rang.

Sterling.

I answered immediately.

"What did you do?"

"The elevator is staying where it is."

His voice was terrifyingly calm again.

"Sterling, release it."

"Come back upstairs."

"You stopped the elevator remotely?"

"Yes."

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Possibly."

I went silent.

That answer did not sound like him.

"Release the elevator."

"Tell me where you're going."

"I can't."

"Then come back."

"No."

"Maeve."

"My vehicle is waiting."

"It can wait."

"No, it can't."

Silence.

Sterling caught the significance immediately.

"Why can't it wait?"

I closed my eyes.

"Because I have a deadline."

"What happens if you miss it?"

"I lose the opportunity."

"Then lose it."

My eyes opened.

There he was.

The man I had sacrificed opportunities for before.

The man who still believed my life could be rearranged whenever it inconvenienced him.

"No."

"Whatever they're paying you, I'll triple it."

"It's not about money."

"I'll fund the research myself."

"You don't even know what the research is."

"Then tell me."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

I looked at the emergency controls.

"Sterling, release this elevator right now, or I call building security and the police."

"This is my building."

"Then I'll call the police."

He went quiet.

"You'd call the police on me?"

"If you imprison me in an elevator? Absolutely."

Another silence.

Then the elevator moved.

Down.

I exhaled.

Sterling remained on the phone.

"Maeve."

I didn't answer.

"When will you come back?"

For the first time, there was something in his voice I couldn't dismiss as irritation.

Something small.

Something dangerously close to fear.

My eyes burned.

"Goodbye, Sterling."

"Don't say that."

The desperation in his response was immediate.

I froze.

"Why?"

"Because you're acting like this is permanent."

I swallowed.

The elevator reached the lobby.

"Maybe it is."

"Maeve."

The doors opened.

Two people in dark federal security uniforms stood beside a black SUV beyond the glass entrance.

One of them checked his watch.

My escort.

I stepped out.

Sterling was still speaking.

"Stay where you are."

"No."

"I'm coming downstairs."

"Don't."

"Maeve—"

I ended the call.

One of the security officers approached.

"Dr. Hart?"

"Yes."

"We're behind schedule."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Phone."

I looked at it.

Sterling was calling again.

The officer held out a secure evidence pouch.

"Once it goes inside, there's no civilian communication."

I stared at Sterling's name flashing across the screen.

For six years, I had waited for calls that never came.

Now he wouldn't stop calling.

Funny how quickly attention became worthless once you no longer needed it.

I declined the call.

Then I switched off the phone.

The screen went black.

I placed it inside the pouch.

The officer sealed it.

"From this point forward, you follow communication protocol."

"Understood."

He opened the SUV door.

Before getting inside, I looked up at the penthouse tower.

Somewhere fifty-one floors above me was the man I had loved through almost my entire adult life.

I expected grief.

Instead, I felt relief.

I got into the vehicle.

The door closed.

At 4:52 AM, we pulled away from the curb.

Seven minutes after Sterling tried to stop me, Manhattan began disappearing behind tinted glass.

I didn't know that upstairs, Sterling had already shoved past Liana and sprinted toward the service elevator.

I didn't know he reached the lobby less than three minutes after my SUV left.

I didn't see him standing barefoot on the sidewalk, ignoring the freezing pavement and the pain in his dislocated shoulder as he stared down the empty street.

I didn't hear him order building security to pull every camera feed from the previous fifteen minutes.

And I didn't hear Liana when she finally caught up to him.

"Sterling, she's gone. Maybe she just needs space."

According to Declan, Sterling didn't even look at her.

He stared at the road where my vehicle had disappeared.

"No."

Liana frowned.

"No what?"

Sterling's face had gone completely white.

"She left her key."

"So?"

"Maeve never leaves her key."

He turned toward the building.

For the first time, Liana reached for his arm and Sterling pulled away from her.

"Sterling?"

He ignored her.

He called Declan.

"Find Maeve."

Declan's exhausted voice came through the speaker.

"What do you mean, find her?"

"Track her phone. Pull her card activity. Contact the university. Check every airport, train station, private terminal, and car service in Manhattan."

"Sterling, it's five in the morning."

"I don't care."

"Did you two fight?"

Sterling looked down at the platinum key clenched inside his hand.

"She's leaving me."

There was silence on the other end.

Declan had known Sterling for almost twenty years.

He had probably never heard that tone either.

"Okay," Declan said carefully. "Where did she say she was going?"

"She wouldn't tell me."

"When is she coming back?"

Sterling's fingers tightened around the key.