Page 13

Kai

H er hair smelled heavenly. I pulled her closer, holding her tighter against me.

Spooning had never been my thing, it was something I used to think was a waste of time.

But with June, it felt different. I could’ve stayed like that forever—just lying there, holding her.

I didn’t even need to see her face to know how beautiful she looked.

There was a warmth in having her in my arms, a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in years.

She was like a safety blanket—the kind of comfort every kid needs growing up.

Her skin was impossibly soft, her curves fitting perfectly against me.

She whispered softly to me. “You are…”

A sudden thud against my back yanked me out of the moment.

Everything blurred. My perfect 20/20 vision faltered, replaced by a hazy mess. The sounds around me faded, swallowed by a sharp ringing buzz in my ears. It wasn’t until I felt myself being lifted off the floor that I realized what was happening. The pounding I’d felt—someone’s hand on my shoulder.

Trevon.

My best friend from college. What the hell was he doing here?

“We need to go.”

We need to go. Those words. Everyone kept saying them to me.

Mario had said them earlier—over and over. My mind scrambled to catch up. Had I blacked out again? With my eyes open? It hadn’t happened in years.

I spotted her—Jenny. Blood stained her clothes, her hands, everything. She was hunched over her husband’s lifeless body, silent tears streaking down her face.

“Qing,” I called out, forcing the words through my brain fog. “We need to go.”

Trevon’s grip tightened—one of my arms now pinned beneath his broad, dark hands. His voice was low but urgent.

“The police are on their way here. We really have to go.”

Jenny shook her head stubbornly. “I should stay. This is all my fault.”

I shrugged out of Trevon’s grip and crouched down beside my devastated cousin. Her face was pale, streaked with tears, her hands trembling as they clung to her husband’s bloodied shirt.

“This is not your fault,” I said softly. “You should’ve never married him. I should’ve stopped you. You were a victim of your family’s politics.”

As the words left my mouth, the truth settled heavily on my chest—I wasn’t just talking about her. I had been a victim too, trapped and controlled by the same ruthless machine. And worse, I had let them do it.

Jenny’s eyes flashed with defiance.

“But we are different,” she snapped. “I did love him. He’s the father my children, and I still love him?—”

“Despite everything…”

“Yes!” She cut me off sharply. “None of this would’ve happened if I had just played along with his sick game.”

At least she knew it was sick.

Trevon crouched beside us. “Why don’t we get out of here for now? You’ll think more clearly once you’ve had a chance to breathe.”

“He’s right.” I murmured, running my fingers gently through Jenny’s matted hair—the same hair she spent hours and thousands of dollars every month perfecting. “Honey, have you seen Lucy? We need to take her with us.”

The realization hit me hard—I hadn’t seen Lucy since I arrived.

Jenny’s face twisted in confusion as she shook her head. “I don’t know. She left in a different car at the airport.”

Dread slithered over me. “Is she safe?”

“What?” Her frown told me—she couldn’t even process the question, too shattered by grief and guilt.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

I caught Trevon’s gaze, and he didn’t look away. I knew the same terrifying thought raced through both our minds.

I turned to Mario, my voice sharp and urgent. “Find Lucy.”

“Go, Kai.” Jenny demanded, her voice trembling but final. “I’ll handle the police when they get here.”

“But Qing...”

“I love you, Kai,” she spoke over me, “you’re the only one in this family who cares about me—the only one I care about. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“No, Qing, I?—”

“You can’t help me if you’re locked up too,” she insisted, her tone sharper now.

“Come on.” Trevon added, he tugged me toward the staircase, pulling me away from Jenny.

“Go!” Jenny screamed, desperation cracking her voice. “I’m begging you!”

Trevon half-dragged my unwilling body down the stairs. My thoughts were a blur, torn between leaving and staying.

As we reached for the massive wooden door—the main entrance and our only exit—a sharp, angry shout pierced the air behind us.

I turned and saw a familiar figure—Chen’s head of security. The man was a brute, built like a tank, and had been with Chen longer than anyone else. Unlike the revolving door of bodyguards who never lasted more than two years, he had somehow survived Chen’s paranoia and cruelty.

The man spat out a vicious threat in Shanghai dialect—if we took another step, he’d kill the woman in white.

Before I could react, Trevon raised his gun and fired.

The shot echoed through the marble-floored hallway. The security guard dropped like a stone, his heavy body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

“What the fuck Trev?” I couldn’t believe it—Trevon, the calm, level-headed guy I had known forever had just shot someone without hesitation.

“Relax, it’s just an air gun,” Trevon said casually.

“But… you just killed him.” My voice shaky, as confused as my mind.

We rushed to the fallen fat man. There was no blood, no bullet wound—nothing. Trevon bent down to help the woman to her feet while I checked for a pulse, pressing my fingers against the thick skin of his neck.

Living and breathing.

He had fainted—somehow. Good luck to Chen if he decided to keep him around.

A distant, eerie howling broke through the tense silence. I swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at me. It was too much for Jenny to face all this alone.

As if Trevon had read my mine—he shook his head sharply, silently telling me to keep moving.

As we rose to leave, the woman we helped earlier grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Without a word, she led us through the mansion’s dim corridors to a discreet back door.

Outside, she pressed a Buick key into my palm and pointed at a blue car parked among a row of beaten-up vehicles.

“Take the unkempt path behind the house—follow it until you’re clear.” She whispered in rapid Mandarin.

Before I could thank her, she shoved us out the door and locked it behind us.

We followed her instructions, the Buick’s engine rumbling as we crept along the overgrown path.

At first, it felt like we were going in circles—twisting and turning deeper into the estate’s sprawling grounds.

But after a few agonizing minutes, we reached a narrow wooden gate, just wide enough for the car to squeeze through.

On the other side was a hidden road, winding along the backside of the mountain. A perfect escape route.

In the distance, the shrill wail of police sirens pierced the night.

My chest tightened as I thought of Jenny. At least she’s safe—for now.

“Whose car is this?” Trevon finally asked, though we both knew I didn’t have an answer.

“Don’t know. But we should ditch this car as soon as we get the chance.”

Trevon gripped the wheel, driving like he knew exactly where he was going. In reality, there were only two choices—up or down the mountain. He chose down, leaving the estate and its dark secrets behind us.

“I have some news for you.” Trevon announced, his tone sharp and urgent.

I froze, heart pounding in my chest, and gave him a quick nod to continue.

“June and Wendy are on their way to Hong Kong. We should head there as soon as possible.”

“June? Lincoln’s sister?” My stomach twisted in disbelief. “But why?”

“To look for you, you idiot,” he snapped. “Hong Kong is as far as she could go without a visa for China.”

“I…” Words failed me. My thoughts felt tangled and disjointed.

I hadn’t even had a chance to process the chaos of my day—or days.

How long had it been since I left the United States?

Everything had happened so fast. It was all a blur.

My fingers instinctively reached for my phone in my pocket— but came up empty.

“You left without a word. No one knew where the fuck you went. June thought you’d been taken and flew out to find you.” Trevon said, his voice low but edged with frustration.

“She did?” The thought made my pulse jump. I shifted on my feet, a nervous energy buzzing through me—like a schoolboy hearing the news about his favorite girl.

“Yes. She showed up at Lincoln’s in the middle of night, begging him to fly her to you on his private jet,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, shit.” Guilt gnawed at me. I had left without words—without a single explanation. I needed to call her. “I should call her.”

My hands darted to my pockets—shirt, jacket—frantic now. “Damn it. Mario smashed my phone at the house.”

“Wait! Don’t tell me your phone is at the crime scene?”

“Fuck.” The weight of it hit me like a punch to the gut.

Trevon gave me a more detailed update about what had happened with June and Wendy on the way to the airport.

Unlike Lincoln and I, he didn’t own a private jet, nor was he a member of some exclusive airplane club that could charter him anywhere he wanted to go.

He preferred to fly commercial, he said, but we all knew the truth.

He didn’t want to raise any alarms or attract attention to his financial status.

Trevon simply didn’t like people knowing how rich he actually was.

The next flight to Hong Kong was in three hours, and Trevon had convinced me that flying commercial might be the better option.

For one, it wouldn’t look like I was trying to flee the country.

Well, flying private wouldn’t seem suspicious either, considering how often I did it—but my head wasn’t actually functioning today after everything that had happened.

I trusted Trevon to have my best interests at heart. He wouldn’t do anything to harm me.