Page 43 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Savannah

I felt the pain medication already kicking in, but it didn’t even begin to dull the agony coursing through my body. Every step was a reminder I wasn’t ready for this. My ribs ached with each breath, my legs burned, and my stitches pulled under the thin fabric of my shirt.

I was already regretting not telling Jaxson my plan, but I knew he’d never let me be part of this. And I’d be damned if I was going to sit back when I was the reason she’d been taken.

I kept moving toward the entrance, no plan or strategy beyond the single, desperate thought that had dragged me here: offer myself as a sacrifice. My life for hers.

I prayed Millie was in there. Still alive.

The heavy steel door groaned when I pulled it, the sound scraping through the empty street behind me. A thick chain dangled from where it had once been locked, the latch hanging open like someone hadn’t bothered to secure it all the way. It gave way just enough for me to slip inside.

The air hit me like a fist, thick with the sharp sting of bleach. It burned my nose, coating the back of my throat, and beneath it lingered something darker. Something the bleach hadn’t been able to wash away.

The hallway ahead was narrow and claustrophobic, lit only by the fractured glow of a flickering bulb overhead. Each flash illuminated patches of peeling paint, water stains running down the walls like old tears. My footsteps echoed, too loud, bouncing back at me from the darkness ahead.

Every sense screamed at me to turn around.

I pushed forward, one hand brushing the wall for balance, the other clenched so tight my nails bit into my palm. Somewhere above me, something creaked, the sound of weight shifting on old wood, and my chest tightened.

I told myself to keep moving.

The air grew colder the deeper I went, and the shadows felt thicker, heavier, like they were pressing in on me. A door stood slightly ajar at the end of the hall, light spilling through the crack in a sickly yellow glow. I hesitated, my heart hammering so hard it made my stitches ache.

If she’s in there, I thought, this might be my only chance.

I stepped forward, and the floor groaned beneath my weight.

“I already told you,” a voice snapped from somewhere beyond the half-open door. “It isn’t just about her.”

There was a pause, followed by the same voice again, lower, heavier. “When I get past the wall Westbrook built around her bank accounts, I still want his head. Because he took something from me. Stripped me of everything I was building. I was on the rise. And he made sure I fell.”

Alex. I would recognize that voice anywhere.

I refused to call him by the name the others now knew him by.

That name didn’t deserve the power it carried.

Alex was enough. It kept him exactly where he belonged in my mind, not as the man they feared, but as the monster I had always known he was capable of becoming.

He was talking to someone, and with every word he seethed, I knew it was Millie.

But the words he spoke weren’t entirely true.

Because Jaxson had not been the only one to take everything from him.

Bruce had. And I had too. I continued to walk toward where I had heard the voice, my mind racing with what I would say when I saw him face to face.

I knew Bruce was the one who had stolen what he really wanted.

Jaxson may have stopped the funds recently, but he could have had all of Sinclair’s empire, my inherited empire, had it not been for Bruce and my father.

I took a few more steps, getting closer to the light, hoping Millie would be inside. But my movements halted. A sharp pain surged through the back of my head and before I had the chance to move, total darkness consumed me.

I came to with the weight of him behind me.

The moment I tried to move, I felt the pull on my shoulders and knew it was too late.

My wrists were bound tight behind my back, the coarse bite of rope cutting into my skin.

A wad of cloth had been shoved between my teeth, muffling any sound I tried to make.

I hadn’t been out long. I could tell by the way my vision still pulsed in and out.

Shapes wavered at the edges, bending and twisting like heat rising off asphalt.

Light flared too bright one second, dimmed to gray the next, each flicker leaving me more disoriented.

My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and every blink made the room tilt, as if the floor itself couldn’t decide where it wanted to be.

When my vision finally began to steady, the first thing I saw was blood. It smeared across the cracked concrete floor in thick, dark streaks, trailing into a deep pool that had long since started to turn brown at the edges.

I turned my head and froze.

Against the far wall sat a makeshift table, metal legs braced unevenly, with wide leather straps hanging from each side. Blood stained the surface, dripping down the edges and into the pool below. Whoever had been strapped there could not have survived.

If I was right, and he had been talking to Millie through the intercom system earlier, then who had he—

The thought hit me like a freight train.

Layla. The girl Jaxson had said was missing this morning.

My heart began to pound so hard it hurt, each beat a sharp reminder that someone had just died because of me. Not directly, but enough for the blame to settle heavy in my chest. As if I didn’t already have enough guilt dragging me under, I had just added another body to the tally.

Alex followed my gaze to the blood pooling beneath the table. The slight tilt of his lips told me whatever came next wasn’t going to be good.

“Ahhh, your friend. What was her name? Millie.”

It was a lie. I didn’t have to hear the words he’d spoken earlier to know it. There was a subtle tick in his right eye that gave him away. When Alex spoke, it was always with conviction, with truth. But now, there was something different. Uncertain. And that wasn’t like him. He seemed… on edge.

My gaze swept over him. He looked tired, disheveled.

Blood stains darkened the front of his shirt and the thighs of his jeans.

Whatever he had done to Layla, he hadn’t had time to change from it.

Which meant there might still be a chance to get her help— if Jaxson and the crew showed up fast enough.

And they would. I had left the phone laying on the bed with the directions still pulled up in the browser. Once he realized I wasn’t there, he would find it, and they would come. I just needed to buy enough time for them to get here. Enough time to keep myself and Millie alive.

I shifted slightly, feeling the press of cold metal against my lower back. The gun. Still tucked into the waistband of my jeans, right where I had placed it. He hadn’t even searched me for weapons. Either underestimating me or too distracted to think I might still be a threat.

“Let her go,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “It’s me you want, so let her go.”

A slight laugh escaped him. “Sweet Savannah. Since you won’t live to tell anyone either, I’ll fill you in like I did your little friend.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Trying not to let him see my fear.

His eyes narrowed, fixing on me with a predator’s focus. “Did your little boyfriend ever tell you he was once one of us?”

I couldn’t tell if he was baiting me or building toward something meant to shatter me completely.

My face dropped. I didn’t have to answer, and I didn’t have to say the words.

“I thought so,” he said, a small, smug curl to his mouth. “He thought he had some righteous duty to steal what belonged to me. What I’d worked years on. Strategically planning out the perfect time to conquer and rule, and he just came in and took it like he had some claim to it.”

It sounded more like he was painting Jaxson as a mercenary than an ally. “Sounds like he stopped you, not helped you,” I said, still not understanding where he was going with this.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” His voice sharpened. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees until we were eye to eye. “It wasn’t until I realized he once went by the name of Knox… once stood in the same room with me as I took a child that was barely a teen—”

My stomach turned. The image alone made bile rise in my throat. I turned my head to the side, not wanting to look at him anymore. Because he’d enjoyed doing it. I could see it in the way his eyes lit up when he said the words. And that was sickening.

“Yeah,” Alex said, watching my reaction. “He sat right there and watched it. Liked it, too.”

I knew he was lying. Every word dripped with that same smug satisfaction he always had when he thought he’d cornered someone, but there was something in his eyes… a flicker that didn’t match the story he was spinning.

“Then he disappeared,” Alex went on. “None of us could find him. Like he was a ghost. Until I saw his pretty little face a few years later on the cover of a magazine, and everything began to click into place.”

I stayed silent, holding his gaze, even as my stomach churned.

“Every time he’d go missing from Manhattan,” Alex continued, “so would someone we’d captured.

Someone valuable. Someone we could use for ransom.

” His mouth twisted into something between a smirk and a snarl.

“There were only three people who knew where those holding places were. Only three people who knew where those bodies were kept. The kind we either got paid for, or they were sent back in a bag. And since it sure as fuck wasn’t the person paying me… it was Bruce.”

His hand shot out, fingers clamping around my jaw so tight I knew there would be bruises.

“He never should have had a foot in the game,” he snarled, breath hot against my face. “But no, your fucking father denied me what was rightfully mine.”