The penthouse was quiet, the adrenaline of the broadcast fading into a warm, golden intimacy. William tossed his tuxedo jacket onto the armchair and pulled two flutes of champagne from the cooler.
“We did it,” William said, beaming. “We took the power back.”
Sophie stood by the armchair. She saw a familiar white edge of paper sticking out of the inner pocket of William’s jacket.
Her heart stopped. It was the confession letter. The letter where she admitted to being Beatrice’s spy.
“William,” she started, her voice shaking. “Did you… did you read the note I put in your pocket?”
William turned, handing her a glass. “Note? No. I was too busy trying to ignore Marcus calling me.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t check my pockets.”
Sophie stared at him. He was happier than she had ever seen him. If she showed him the letter now, the light in his eyes would die. The “Ice King” would return.
She reached into the jacket and slid the note into her palm, concealing it.
“It was nothing,” Sophie lied, slipping the paper into her own pocket. “Just a grocery list.”
Later, while William checked on Leo, Sophie went to her bedroom. She opened the bottom drawer of her vanity and buried the letter beneath her sweaters. She shut the drawer, locking the secret inside, praying it would stay buried forever.