Page 83 of Fallen Heir

Was he in on this?

The question made my stomach twist. My father had always had a dark side—there were things I’d never been allowed to ask about, conversations that ended with slammed doors and silences that lasted for days. I was his daughter, but I’d never been his equal. I was kept close, watched constantly, guarded like a possession.

But I had always believed it was because he was trying to protect me.

Now I wondered if it was because he knew the darkness in the world.

Because he helped create it.

It had always seemed like we lived just above reality. Dinners at private clubs. Invitations to events meant for names with weight. My parents weren’t just respected, they were untouchable. I thought it was their drive. Their work ethic. My mother’s law firm climbing through the ranks. My father’s real estate empire expanding across the Southeast. I thought they were smart investors. I thought we were lucky.

But now I saw the truth.

It wasn’t clean. It was curated. Built on secrets, not success.

My body tensed as another possibility crawled in. Was that why I’d spent my entire life with people tailing me? Bodyguards. Drivers. Men in suits who said little and never looked away. I thought it was paranoia from our wealth. Control. Power.

What if it was guilt? What if it was fear?

What if he knew one day his empire would come back to collect?

My chest ached. I wanted to scream.

Instead, my mind went somewhere else. Somewhere safer, even if only for a second.

Jaxson.

The sound of his name in my head broke something open.

I prayed he was alive. That he didn’t think I ran away. That he knew I was missing. That he was out there, fighting to find me.

I hadn’t told him everything. I never got the chance. But I hoped he knew anyway. I hoped he saw the way I looked at him—the way I trusted him when I didn’t even trust myself. I hoped he knew that pushing him away wasn’t because I didn’t want him, but because I was terrified of what he’d found.

And angry that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me. But I didn’t blame him.

I remembered the pain etched on his face when I told him to leave. The way his eyes held every word he didn’t say. He knew more than I did—farmore.

So maybe—just maybe—he was out there now, searching for me.

Trying to protect me.

Just like he always said he would.

God, I needed him to be okay.

“Millie…” Her name slipped out before I could stop it. A whisper of air that tasted like heartbreak. Sweet, beautiful Millie. All I wanted to do was to tell her how much she reminded me of my mother. Tell her that she was like a sister to me. Because sometimes family doesn’t always come from blood.

I’d never get to tell her how she saved my life. How she’d given me a reason to wake up each day, to believe in something better. There was a time not so long ago that I had thought about ending it all. About slipping away quietly, just so the pain would stop. So the fear would subside instead of running my life. I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want tolive like thisanymore.

I’d been ready to break. Ready to let go.

Then she walked into my life, a whirlwind of sass and light, and wrapped herself around my soul like a safety net. She never asked for details. She just stayed. Held space for me. Kept my secrets without even knowing them.

She didn’t know it, but she saved me in every way a person could be saved.

And now, I might never get the chance to say thank you.

Movement in the corner of my eye pulled me back.