Page 59 of Betrayed By Sin

The silence that follows is thick, almost unbearable.

They’re not just asking me to behave.

They’re asking me to transform.

Not a pawn.

A player.

I sink back into the leather chair, fingers tapping the armrest nervously, but my voice doesn’t shake. Bria’s hand slides into mine, warm and steady. I grip it tightly, drawing strength from her.

“Then I guess it’s time I learn how to play,” I whisper.

Bria squeezes my hand, smirking faintly through her tension. “Finally. About time you joined the game.”

I look out the window at the red letters glaring back at me. The city suddenly feels too small, too dangerous. And I know… everything has changed.

THIRTEEN

As I wake the next morning, I notice the presence of extra security with the lack of my family. In the grand dining room, breakfast is already waiting, laid out like a photoshoot. Fresh berries glistening in crystal bowls, omelets folded into perfect half-moons, pastries so delicate they look fake. Like something from a Paris café window, not a family table.

But no one’s here.

The staff moves in and out like clockwork. Clearing plates, refilling my coffee. Never speaking, never looking directly at me. They’re setting the place for a party, but I’m not in a celebratory mood.

I try to eat, but my stomach is in knots, hard and sour. The silence presses in on me until I can’t breathe right. The walls feel tighter today, like the estate is shrinking, closing in, room by room, until I disappear into it.

I need to get out.

Out of this house.

With Axle at my side, Islip into the courtyard, taking the long stone path that leads through the back gardens.

The air iscrisp, sharp with the bite of autumn, cutting through my sweater like a warning.

I don’t care.

I need air. I needspace.

I need to feel likeI still belong to myself.

A voicecuts through my thoughts.

“You look like you’re running.”

I stop.

Cameron standsnear the edge of the fountain, hands in his pockets, watching me carefully.

His usualdark slacks and button-upcontrast against the pale stone of the courtyard, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his forearms.

Effortless authority.

I swallow hard.“Maybe I am.”

His lipstwitch, almost like he wants to smile but won’t allow himself.“Running won’t solve any of this.” He gestures to the trellis wall, immaculately clean, no sign of red spray paint. “Only fixing the problem will make it go away.”

I exhale sharply, crossing my arms.“I need to run because right now, this house feels like a cage.”