Page 51 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Savannah

The finger Alex snapped earlier—already broken once before by another man just as evil—throbbed, but I refused to give him what he wanted.

I didn’t scream.

Not for Jaxson’s sake. Not for Millie’s. Not for anyone’s but my own.

The pain was there, clawing at me, begging to be let in. But pain was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Not here. Not now. Every ounce of energy had to be banked, stored for the one moment that mattered.

I’d been here before, helpless, trapped under the weight of a monster’s will. Bruce had taught me the truth no one tells you about surviving: it’s not about being unbreakable. It’s about letting them think they’re breaking you… while you’re quietly sharpening your blade.

I’d sharpened mine before, and it cost Bruce his life. Almost cost me mine, too. But the choice had been mine. Just like today.

I would decide my fate.

The day I swore I’d never let someone else dictate my life, my body learned to lock pain away. Stillness became my shield. Silence became my weapon. And right now, that silence was razor-sharp.

Every muscle in my body coiled, every nerve begged to act. But I kept my face still, my eyes locked on Millie. She needed to see me calm. She needed to believe I wasn’t afraid, even if the edges of my vision darkened from the effort.

Sweat and copper clung to the back of my throat, dust scratching at every breath. Every creak of boots on the floor ricocheted inside my skull. The flicker of the overhead bulb carved shadows across Alex’s face, making his grin look more like a mask than skin.

And when I looked at him now, certain thoughts kept filtering into my head, trying to throw me off balance.

I hated knowing that Jaxson used to be one of them. And with his silence, I was certain every word Alex spoke was true.

Jaxson had once walked that dark path—steeped in shadows most people never even knew existed—and God only knows what he’d seen along the way. The kind of things that stain a man’s soul and don’t wash out.

It should change the way I feel about him. It should make me love him less.

But it didn’t.

Who am I to judge someone for their past?

Hell, my own last name has been the reason thousands of innocent souls have lost their lives.

Blood spilled in wars I never fought, deals I never made, crimes I never sanctioned.

That guilt lives in me now, heavy and uninvited, a weight I didn’t even know existed… until it was too late to put it down.

I never stopped thinking about the children in that van.

About Nia and Kai. The others, their wide, unblinking eyes staring into nothing, too afraid or too broken to cry.

The air inside had been suffocating, laced with the same stench that clung to my skin now: sweat, copper, and the rotting hopelessness of a place where life had already been decided for you.

Whoever had spent time there either never made it out, or came out with nothing left worth saving.

I’m no saint. I’ve made choices I wish I could erase. I’ve survived things that have shaped me into someone unrecognizable from the woman I used to be. And who’s to say his past wasn’t just another cage—one he had the strength to break free from?

A life like that… it leaves marks. And yet, here he is. Free. Standing on the other side. Fighting with purpose. If anything, it made me wonder how much of the man I love was forged in that fire… and how much of him was still burning from it.

But if he’d actually stood beside Alex—participated in the things men like him do—if he’d touched innocent souls and stolen something they’d never get back… that I wouldn’t forgive. I couldn’t.

I’d walk away from him in an instant and never look back.

If I made it out of here alive—if we made it out alive—he’d have to tell me everything. Every detail. No omissions. And if he wanted us to still be together, there couldn’t be anything left in the shadows.

Alex was now looming over Millie like a predator savoring the kill. My pulse thudded in my ears, but I buried it under the steel I’d built for moments like this.

Then Millie did the last thing I expected.

She laughed.

It was sharp. Defiant. Dangerous. And for a second, I thought the blood loss was getting to her.

That she wasn’t in her right mind. Her skin was pale, her breaths too quick, and the crimson soaking her thigh had slowed to a sluggish, sticky ooze.

She had to be lightheaded, maybe even halfway to passing out.

Men like Alex didn’t care about life, only power. Laughter in their face was a spark to gasoline.

But everything Millie did, she did with purpose. Even on the brink of collapse, she knew exactly what she was doing.

When he crouched beside her, reaching for the knife still buried in her thigh, I felt it. My moment had come.

All the power I’d hoarded, every ounce of strength I’d banked, burst loose.

In one smooth, silent motion, I reached behind me, fingers closing around cold steel tucked into the waistband of my pants.

I’d sighed internally when Alex cut the rope that bound me to the chair. I would’ve taken whatever pain he planned to inflict, because it meant he saw me as nothing. A nobody. He hadn’t even searched me for weapons. He never considered me a threat.

By the time Alex’s hand brushed the hilt of Millie’s blade, the barrel of my gun was pressed to the back of his skull.

I leaned in, close enough for him to feel my breath against his ear.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

Jaxson took a step forward. Instinct.

The click of hammers being drawn froze him in place.

Six men stood to my left. Two guns leveled at him. The other four aimed at me.

I gave him a single, sharp nod. Stay.

“Put the gun on the floor,” I said, voice low and teeth clenched, “or I’ll pull the trigger.”

The hatred burning in my chest was hotter than anything I’d ever felt. Even for Bruce. Not because of what Alex had done to me, but because of what I’d watched him do to Millie. My sister in every way except blood.

He didn’t move at first. The only shift I caught was the slow lift of one arm. The empty one, palm open, deliberate, as if to show surrender.

The other arm, the one with the gun, stayed right where it was, angled low at his side.

“I hear you,” he said. His voice was low, maddeningly calm. Testing me.

The weight of every gun in the room pressed against my skin, but my grip didn’t waver.

“Drop it, Alex.”

No answer. Just the faint scrape of his fingers flexing against the grip. Not much, but enough to tell me he was deciding whether to gamble.

I pressed the muzzle harder into his skull. “I’m not here to bluff. You move that hand anywhere but down, and I’ll paint this floor with you.”

My gaze flicked up, just enough to catch Millie’s face. Her eyes weren’t on me anymore. They’d shifted—locked onto something at the door. Not fear. Anticipation.

One quick glance from her to me, then back.

I wanted to look. God, I wanted to look. But one slip of focus and Alex would have the knife, or worse, before I could breathe.

Whatever she saw, it was closing in.

And from the sharp, almost defiant spark in her eyes, I knew.

It wasn’t another threat.

It was our opening. Our lifeline.

A sound cut through the air—faint at first, then swelling. The deep, chopping thrum of helicopter blades.

Alex’s head tilted toward it, showing me the barest hint of a smirk curling his mouth.

“Ahhh… my knight in shining armor,” he drawled. “Just in time to finish the rest of you off.”

My stomach knotted.

“Costa?” Jaxson’s voice was tight, calculating.

Alex’s eyes flicked toward him, cold and amused. “Who else? I’d say he’s been dying to see you again, Knox . Catch up on old times. Trade a few stories.” He chuckled, low and deliberate, like he already knew how this ended. “I’m sure he’ll want you alive… for now.”

The arrogance in his tone was a punch to the gut. Even with most of his men lying in pools of blood on the floor, he still believed the upper hand was his.

The thought was unsettling. Because despite me having a barrel forged of steel pressed against the back of his head, finger poised on the trigger, some part of me believed the conviction in his voice.

Until another body dropped to my left.

The sound snapped through me like a whip. I turned my head—just long enough to see the man collapse in a heap, lifeless on the floor.

Before I could blink, Alex moved. He spun, dragging me into him, his arm clamping across my throat, crushing any chance at oxygen. Cold metal pressed into the side of my head, the barrel of his gun digging in.

“Tell your people to stand the fuck down, or she dies.”

I couldn’t see who he was talking to. My vision was already starting to fade, heat burning up my cheeks as I still couldn’t pull in a full breath. I clawed at his arm, nails digging into muscle, but it was useless. He was locked around me like iron.

My body didn’t have the strength left to fight; I’d been standing too long.

Even in those seconds before it all went to hell, I could feel the strain bleeding through me.

Arms heavy, shoulders tight, the weight of the pistol pressing into my palms until my fingers ached.

My knees had already started to shake, warning me I wouldn’t hold on much longer.

“It’s not my people,” Jax said, his hands raised in surrender. But you didn’t surrender to Alex. He didn’t negotiate. He didn’t back down.

Another body dropped. The roar that ripped from Alex’s chest was so close it rattled inside my skull.

Three men left standing. And they had no clue who to aim their weapons at.

My ears were on fire. Darkness bled in at the edges of my vision, my pulse hammering in my throat. I fought it. Fought to keep my eyes open, fought to stay present, fought to stay alive.

But then a thought cut through the panic. Sharp, reckless.

What if I let the darkness take me?

If I went limp, he’d be holding dead weight with one arm, and I doubted he was prepared for that. Maybe it would slow him down. Maybe, it would give Jaxson enough time.

Enough time to make a move. Enough time for us to take this back.

His roar still rattled through my skull, every muscle in his body thrumming with the promise of violence. The arm crushing my throat pulled tighter, locking me in place like a trap built to snap shut and never let go.

My chest convulsed in shallow, desperate jerks.

Each breath was a losing battle, my lungs clawing at nothing.

My pulse pounded behind my eyes, heat flooding my face until my skin felt like it was on fire.

My fingers dug at his forearm, nails scraping against muscle, but it was useless—he didn’t even flinch.

The room tilted, shadows bleeding into the edges of my vision. My body had been trembling for what felt like forever, muscles screaming from trying to prove my strength. I’d been so sure I could hold on… until now.

Somewhere through the ringing in my ears, I caught Millie’s voice. Ragged, but still dripping with that unshakable, smart-ass bite.

“Tell me something…” she called over the chaos, forcing Alex to look at her. “Is this Costa guy your ally… or your enemy? ’Cause from where I’m sitting, you’re the only one who knows he’s coming… and your men are the only bodies that keep dropping.”

She laughed—a sharp, taunting sound that cut straight through the gunfire.

Alex’s final pull against my throat was all I could endure.

The blackness was coming, curling around me in slow, inevitable surges. My thoughts fractured—Jaxson, Millie, the bodies on the floor, the gun pressed against my skull—then scattered like leaves in the wind.

Then, a shot split the air.

The heat of gunpowder hit my nose a heartbeat before something warm splattered against my cheek. I didn’t know if it was his blood, mine, or someone else’s.

My body sagged, weightless, the world folding in on itself. Somewhere in the blur, I thought I heard my name—but it was swallowed by the dark before I could be sure.

And for the first time since this started, I didn’t know if waking up would be the victory… or the real nightmare.