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CHAPTER 125
"What do you mean he is missing, Sloane?" I mumbled into the comms, the words tasting like dry ash against the roof of my mouth. “We had him in our sights didn’t we? He just vanished?”My mind spun violently, struggling to understand the chaotic pieces of a puzzle that was shattering before my eyes. Jonah. Lucia Rossi’s boyfriend was supposed to have slipped through the perimeter undetected, arriving right at this exact hour under the radar, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of the board. But looking at Lucia right now, at the raw terror tearing through her eyes, a cold, suffocating dread pooled in the pit of my gut. Everything was sliding off the rails with terrifying speed, and the timing was far too precise to be a mere coincidence. Someone had anticipated our every move, outflanking us in the dark.Lucia grabbed my sleeve, her fingers digging into my flesh with a desperate, trembling force, and looked up into my eyes. I didn’t see an arrogant billionaire’s daughter now, I
CHAPTER 124
My suspicions were quite absurd, but so was the reality. Sloane’s reports had extensively explained the lengths Camille and her son would go to have their feel of each other. Those reports had revealed they’ve had sex in Camille’s car, then Xavier’s car, at popular hotels, in swimming pools and the most damning of all that I personally found amusing, was a museum.The double doors swung open suddenly and Camille Castle glided into the hall. Her movements were unnervingly smooth, calm, and deliberate as she straightened the emerald silk of her dress, sliding seamlessly into a seat near the center.No one would ever suspect that she’d just had a session with her own son, but I did.My eyes narrowed, tracking her expression for a brief moment of disgust, before sweeping across the rest of the table.That was when the horrific puzzle pieces clicked into place with a chilling clarity: Lucia Rossi was the only daughter of the founding families present in the room tonight. Where the hell we
CHAPTER 123
The air inside the abandoned maintenance shed smelled of damp earth, rusted iron, and decades of forgotten dust. Outside, the morning sun climbed higher, casting thin, golden bars of light through the cracked wooden slats of the walls, striping the dark interior like a tiger's cage.I sat on an upturned wooden crate near the front of the shed, keeping a low profile while the burner phone rested on an old workbench in front of me. The screen was dark, the encrypted ping I had sent to Zurich echoing silently into the void of the digital underworld.Helen stood near the half-open sliding door, peering through a narrow gap at the empty dirt road that wound past our hiding place. She hadn't spoken in twenty minutes, her silence not a sign of fear, but of a mind calculating every possible angle of our survival."The ping went through," I said, breaking the quiet. My voice sounded flat, stripped of the cadence of a corporate executive. "Routed through three ghost proxies in Zurich and bounce
CHAPTER 122
The gray light of dawn bled across the abandoned fields, turning the frost on the weeds into a shimmering carpet of glass. The fire we had started was nothing more now than a thin ribbon of gray smoke curling lazily into the morning air, swallowed up by the immense, indifferent sky. Beside me, the sleek black curves of the V12 looked entirely out of place—a predator resting in a graveyard of iron and rust."They'll have the satellite feeds by noon," Helen said, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the cooling engine. She was leaning against the passenger door, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the smoke dissolve. The tattered silk of her gown fluttered slightly in the cold wind, a stark reminder of the glittering, blood-soaked world we had left behind just hours ago. "Julian isn't the type to lick his wounds in private. He’s going to weaponize every asset the twelve families have left.""Let him try," I said, pulling the silver lighter from my pocket and turning it over
CHAPTER 121
The highway was a ribbon of black glass reflecting the scattered, uncaring stars. We were miles away from the ranch now, the gilded cage of Memphis shrinking in the rearview mirror until it was nothing more than a faint, sickly orange glow on the horizon.I drove with a ferocity that bordered on reckless, the V12 engine a constant, rhythmic growl that matched the turbulence in my chest. Beside me, Helen was still, her eyes fixed on the darkness ahead. She hadn't spoken since we crossed the county line, and I didn't press her. The silence wasn't empty; it was heavy, filled with the wreckage of everything we had just burned to the ground.My phone, a burner I’d pulled from the glove box, chimed. A single message. No sender, just a set of coordinates and a string of encrypted digits.I glanced at it, then tossed it into the passenger seat floorboard."They're tracking the car," Helen said, her voice cutting through the hum of the tires. She didn't look at the phone. She knew what it was.
CHAPTER 120
The air outside the stables felt unnervingly clean, a sharp, biting contrast to the thick, stagnant scent of blood, cordite, and wet hay that clung to my clothes like a shroud. The night was vast, indifferent, and deafeningly silent, save for the distant, muffled cadence of the gala music—a jaunty, hollow sound that drifted across the pastures, blissfully unaware that its foundations had been vaporized.I stopped in the middle of the gravel drive, my chest heaving, my lungs burning as if I’d been inhaling embers. The adrenaline that had sustained me through the final confrontation—the surge of pure, concentrated survival—was rapidly retreating, leaving behind a cold, hollow space where my drive used to be. It was replaced by a bone-deep, marrow-aching exhaustion that made my limbs feel like they were cast in lead. I looked down at my hands. They were steady, yes, but they felt irrevocably stained. Not by the blood of the man in the stable, but by the jagged, jagged legacy he had etche
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