Page 45

She finally looks up at me, and her eyes are glassy, shining with tears she’s trying too hard to hold back.

“He knew. He knew … I was in a bad place. That I’d say yes to anything that felt like attention, or maybe validation.

” She lets out a shaky breath. “He told me he could help. That he had investor connections, that he could ‘elevate my brand.’ And I believed him. For five minutes, I let myself believe someone actually saw me.”

The tears spill over now, and she doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

“But the second I pulled away, the second I said no to whatever he thought came next… he flipped. He told me he’d leak a story. Something disgusting. He said he’d make it look like I was sleeping with Lyra to stay relevant.”

What the fuck? What kind of sick bastard is that guy?

Her voice cracks at the end, brittle and raw. “I begged him to stop. And he just smiled like it was all a game, and watching me panic was the reward.”

I don’t speak. I don’t move. Her confession hangs in the air, dangerous and vulnerable, burning with all the things she’s never said out loud.

And in that moment, the image of Declan I held—smug, manipulative, and a power-drunk bastard—solidifies into something far worse. A predator .

I know she’s waiting for me to react, to say something. To tell her she’s a piece of shit for sleeping with him. But I’m not here to judge. I’m here to finish this, to make sure Lyra’s safe.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” I ask. It’s simple, but it stings. It always does.

Her eyes flash with pain, and she lowers her voice. “Because I was ashamed. And because she already has too many people twisting knives.” She exhales, her guilt weighing down on her shoulders.

I don’t respond at first. I just take a long look at her, letting her feel my anger and disappointment in Declan. She needs to realize what’s happening. She needs to see just how deep this goes. She can’t just hide from the truth forever. This is far worse than I had anticipated.

When she looks up at me, her eyes rimmed red and swollen, I see that she’s broken.

“I’m done hiding,” she says quietly, her voice gaining strength. “If Lyra burns her dad down, or whoever, I’ll light the first match. She’s my best friend.”

For the first time since I walked into this apartment, I finally see her for who she really is. She’s not some weak-willed woman caught in a web of lies. She’s someone who’s been trying to protect Lyra in her own way. A twisted way, sure. But she’s got guts.

I don’t say anything at first. I just nod quietly. She’s right. If she’s going to play her part in this, then she’s going to have to own it. She has no choice now.

“Good,” I say, my voice soft but final. “Because the spark’s already lit.”

Zara doesn’t hesitate. I know she’s already made her decision. She knows what she has to do.

I don’t waste time with pleasantries. There’s too much at stake. “Get yourself together, Zara,” I say as I turn to leave. “This war isn’t over. And now you’re a part of it as well.”

I start to walk toward the door, ready to leave.

There’s nothing more to say, nothing more to do.

Zara’s been warned. She knows what side she’s on now.

I want to say something reassuring to her after what she’s been through, but I’ve never been good with words.

Not with anyone who isn’t Lyra, so I choose to stay quiet.

But then, she speaks again, her voice quiet but firm. “Silas…” She pauses, clearly weighing something in her head before she says it, “Can you… can you get Lyra to talk to me?”

I stop in my tracks and roll my eyes. “Seriously?” I mutter, not bothering to turn around. “You want me to play matchmaker for you two?”

Her tone shifts, softer now, a mix of frustration and something else. “You owe me. I set up that damn meeting with Blake. The least you can do is get her to talk to me.”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and let out a long sigh, still facing the door. When Zara speaks again, her voice is quieter, almost pleading.

“I miss my best friend, Silas,” she says, her words almost breaking through the stubbornness in my chest. “I need this… please.”

I stay still, her words hitting me like a punch to the gut. I can see it now, her desperation and the cracks behind her usual tough exterior. She’s not some pampered rich girl anymore. She’s been through shit, and I know it.

I exhale slowly, the frustration rolling off me in waves. I can’t just leave it like this.

“Fine,” I finally say, turning back toward her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She uncrosses her arms, her posture softening, and there’s an almost relieved smile on her face. But it’s brief, like she’s not entirely sure she believes I’ll come through. I don’t blame her, since I’m not exactly a people pleaser.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she says softly. Then, with a hint of sarcasm, she adds, “Well, sort of.”

I grin, though it’s a tight, humorless grin. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

Zara watches me as I stand there, and for a second, I see regret and guilt behind her eyes. She doesn’t need to feel that. The only person who should be suffering is Declan.

“I’ll figure it out,” I add, my voice a little gentler now. “But I need you to do something first. No more secrets and no more half-truths, Zara. You’re with us now. No backing out.”

She doesn’t answer immediately. She just looks at me. Then, she nods slowly, her shoulders sinking a little. “I’m in,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I turn and head for the door again, but before I step out, I pause and glance over my shoulder. “Don’t screw this up.”

She smirks, but there’s a hollow edge to it, like the burden of everything pressing down on her is finally catching up. “I won’t. Promise.”

And with that, I’m gone. I don’t look back as I leave. There’s no need to because the storm’s coming, and it’s already too late for apologies.

I step out of the elevator, my phone vibrating in my hand.

I look at the live feed on my phone and see that Lyra’s asleep.

That’s good. At least one of us is getting some rest. I glance at the time and note that the city is just starting to wake up, too early for anyone to be looking for answers, though that’s exactly what I’m doing.

I check the map again, my eyes darting over the different red pins marking the key players. Every one of them is a connection, a lie, a shadow waiting to reveal itself. But there’s still more to find. So much more.

The rooftop bar is quiet when I arrive. The sky overhead is a mix of bruised purples and faded pinks, an odd calm before the chaos.

The skyline stands indifferent to it all, too busy being pretty for anyone to notice the storm brewing beneath it.

I take in a deep breath as the city vibrates with the promise of what’s to come, a far cry from the stale office space I just left.

A familiar face waits for me by the railing, the silhouette cutting a sharp line against the lights of the city. It’s Caleb, an old contact, an ex-NSA hacker with a debt as long as the list of people he’s crossed. Caleb owes me more than one favor. And tonight, it’s time to collect.

I check my phone one more time. Lyra’s feed is active, a single picture of her curled up in bed under the sodium lights.

The sight is like a punch in the gut, and I feel a tightening in my chest. She’s always in the center of my thoughts, but this…

this is personal. This is more than I can just walk away from.

I shove the phone into my pocket as Caleb looks up. He doesn’t smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the dude smile. He could probably say the same for me. We both know what this is.

“You’re late,” he mutters, his voice raspy, his eyes scanning the city behind me the way he always does before he starts talking.

“There’s a lot we need to deal with,” I reply, my voice impersonal and not giving anything away.

I pull out a few printed pages and pass them to him. He takes them with a nod, flipping through the stack with practiced hands. “This is… a mess,” he says, his voice dripping with understatement.

“Everything about this is a mess.” I light a cigarette and take a slow drag as I lean back against the railing, my gaze following the sweep of the city below. “I want this traced. Every dollar. Every post. I want a map of who Evander paid and who he scared.”

His eyes blink over the papers, and he raises a brow. “Even if it leads back to the Vane estate?”

I exhale a cloud of smoke without blinking. “Especially if it does.”

The night hangs dark between us, and Caleb knows better than to push me. He might be a hacker, but there’s one thing he understands more than coding, and it’s the currency of power and the consequences of crossing me.

“You know what you’re asking for, right?” he murmurs, his fingers hovering over his phone. “This isn’t some easy trace. This could bring down more than just your old man’s name.”

I shrug, flicking the ash from my cigarette. “Then I guess we’ll burn it all down.”

Caleb doesn’t say anything for a moment.

He just watches me carefully like he’s weighing the decision in his head.

Then, with a deep breath, he nods and pulls his phone from his pocket before tapping quickly on the screen.

“I’ll get you the full picture. But you better be ready for what’s coming.

This kind of thing doesn’t stay quiet for long. ”

I give him a nod. “I’ve been ready for a long time.” The cigarette burns down to the filter, and I flick it over the edge, watching the embers fall into the void below. “Get it done, Caleb. ASAP.”

“You’ll have it,” he says, turning back to the laptop he’s already pulled out. “You know better than to call me if you don’t need real details. This isn’t for the faint of heart.”

With that, I turn on my heel and leave him to his work. I’m done wasting time. There’s no more waiting. The only thing that matters now is the hunt.

Dawn breaks as I return to the estate. The morning light seeps through the blinds in the hallway, casting long shadows along the floor. The house is soundless, and it’s almost haunting. Knowing I’m doing the hunt right now, I’m far from scared.

I make my way upstairs, taking care not to make a sound, just like always. The estate’s lull hangs over me like the calm before a storm. But this time, it’s different. This time, I don’t feel like I’m running toward something. I feel like I’m running away.

I stop outside Lyra’s door. My hand hovers over the handle, my fingers itching to turn it.

I know she’s inside, and I know she’s still asleep.

Part of me wants to burst through the door, pull her into my arms, and just hold her, tell her it’ll be okay, and that I’ll take care of everything.

But I know better. I already did that yesterday, and right now, I can’t afford that weakness…

not when there’s a war waiting on the other side of this house.

So I wait, reluctantly and torturously so. But I wait.

The door’s cracked slightly, and through the gap, I can see her. I can see the soft rise and fall of her chest, and the way the sheets curl around her body like a fortress. She’s so fucking beautiful, even in her sleep. Even when she looks so damn breakable.

I stand there for a long moment, just watching her. This is what I’ve been fighting for. This is what I’ll keep fighting for. But I can’t afford to be distracted. I’ve got bigger battles ahead.

After a minute, I take a step back. I can’t stand here forever. The world won’t wait for me.

I glance at her one last time, then turn and walk quietly away from the door.

The storm’s still coming, and I can already feel the rain.

But this time, I’m not just a bystander. Evander wanted a war, so I’m the one who’s going to bury him.