Page 30

BLAISE

I hesitate at the tunnel entrance, my escape route beckoning. The passage stretches dark and narrow before me, promising safety and freedom. But something holds me back. The image of Ronan's cruel face, the way he struck Jenna, keeps flashing through my mind.

I close my eyes, exhausted by the war between my heart and head. Part of me still wants to hate her. It would be easier than facing these new, protective feelings. Easier than admitting I've fallen for the girl who helped destroy my world.

My fingers tighten around my gun. Jenna may have betrayed my family, but she was just a kid manipulated by a monster.

And now that same monster will kill her.

I can't leave her to face him alone. Not when I'm the reason she's in danger.

I may have failed to kill Ronan, but I won't fail to protect her.

"Fuck," I mutter, turning back toward the wine cellar. The smart move is to run. My brothers are waiting. But a protective rage burns inside me, different from the cold vengeance I've nursed for the last ten years. This isn't about revenge anymore. It’s about protecting what’s mine.

The irony isn’t lost on me that I so effectively broke Jenna’s heart, and yet, I still feel she’s mine. The look of utter horror and hurt from my deception is seared on my brain.

"I didn’t know…" she'd sobbed. And I believe her. That's what burns the most. All this time plotting my revenge against a calculated betrayer, when really, she was just another of Ronan's victims.

But the betrayal in her eyes wasn't just about my deception. It was the shattering of her entire worldview. Learning Ronan’s true nature, realizing how they'd manipulated her as a child. She's spent her whole life serving the family that murdered mine, thinking they were good people. It’s that knowledge that I hope will help her see that I’m her best bet for survival. But first, I need to find her.

I move silently through the darkness, hearing the sounds of shouting and running filter down from above. Ronan's men are spreading through the estate.

I press against a cold stone wall, concealing myself in shadows. Where would she go? Is she in the kitchen? Does Ronan have her already? I can’t risk going up to find out without ensuring my own death.

A door slams somewhere above, followed by urgent voices. They're getting closer. Every second I stay puts me at greater risk, but I move deeper into the basement. I take refuge in a dark corner near the storage area. I pull out my phone when I realize I need to let my brothers know what I’m doing.

Fucked up. Ronan got away. Cover blown. Jenna in danger.

Phoenix responds instantly.

GET OUT NOW

I grit my teeth, shame burning in my gut. Years of careful planning, destroyed in seconds because I lost focus. The moment Ronan struck Jenna, rage took over. Now the Keans know an Ifrinn survived, know we're coming for them.

Can't leave . They'll kill her.

Ash's reply pops up.

She’s with them. Not worth dying for.

My jaw tightens. They don't understand. They didn't see the confusion in her eyes, the horror when she realized what her childhood crush had manipulated her into doing.

I can’t leave her.

That's not our problem, Phoenix writes. Mission compromised. Leave NOW.

I close my eyes, fighting the urge to throw the phone against the wall. My brothers are right. This isn't part of the plan. But I can't leave her.

I type back firmly.

No . Need someone at hospital to protect Jenna’s mother.

A long pause follows. I can picture my brothers arguing, Flint probably the only one defending my choice.

I don’t have time to argue over text, so I put my phone in my pocket and move on to find Jenna.

I don’t recall hearing her take the main steps up.

So maybe she heeded my warning and headed somewhere else.

I know she’ll want to get to her mother, which isn’t a wise move, but Jenna is a sweet, innocent gardener who somehow missed the ugliness of the Kean world around her and how they operate.

I decide she’s probably making her way to the cottage to grab essentials. It's exactly the kind of practical thing she'd think of, even in a crisis. That mix of responsibility and innocence that first drew me to her before I twisted it into something to despise.

I hear Ronan’s men reach the wine cellar and I know the passageway there is no longer an option for escape. So once I get Jenna, I need another way out. One that I can get Jenna through as well. Can she climb a wall?

But my first obstacle will likely be convincing her to let me help her escape.

At the very least, I want a chance to explain myself.

How I wanted to destroy her, but somewhere along the way I fell for her, totally and completely.

She probably won't believe me. Why should she?

I used her feelings against her, just like Ronan did.

The difference is, I fell for her in the process.

But explanations will have to wait. First, I need to get her somewhere safe. Then I can try to earn her forgiveness, if she's willing to give it. Right now, all that matters is protecting her from Ronan's cleanup crew.

I reach a service door that leads toward her cottage.

Pressing my ear against it, I listen for movement outside.

Nothing. Time to move. I quickly and quietly move through the door.

Guards patrol the perimeter, but I know their patterns since I helped design them.

Moving through shadows between the sculpted hedges, I keep low and quick.

A light flickers on in her cottage window. My pulse spikes. It’s like a fucking beacon to Ronan and his men that she’s there.

The curtain shifts slightly, and I catch a glimpse of movement inside. Not Jenna's delicate frame. No, this is someone larger. Male.

Ice floods my veins. Ronan. He knew she'd come back here just as I did.

I reach the cottage, pressing against the outer wall. Voices drift out, too muffled to make out words, but I recognize Ronan's smug tone. Then Jenna's higher pitch, tight with fear.

My fingers curl around my gun. Keeping to the shadows, I circle the cottage, checking entry points. Front door, back door, two windows. Limited options, all likely to alert Ronan. But I can't risk waiting. Not with that bastard alone with her.

Jenna's frightened voice rises, though I still can't make out the words. I need to get in there. Now. I head to the front door, knowing they’re in the living area.

"I'll do anything. Please, Ronan. We've known each other since we were kids. I used to bring you flowers from the garden, remember? Fresh arrangements for your office every Monday."

The terror in her voice guts me.

"Always hoping I’d notice you. Shame I never took you up on it. It might have been fun."

Mother fucker.

"This will be quick, Jenna. Try to be grateful for that much. Any last words?"

There’s a long silence and then, "Time to die, Jenna."

Oh, God, oh, God . I have a sense of déjà vu. My world is burning up and I’m unable to stop it. I failed to protect my family a decade ago. I won't fail to protect her now.

"Please don't. I'm pregnant!"

Pregnant. The word ricochets through my head.

A baby? Our baby. Growing inside her right now as that bastard threatens her life.

“You think I’d spare your life for a bastard? Probably an Ifrinn bastard?” Ronan scoffs. “The baby will die with its whore of a mother."

Red fills my vision. The rage that consumes me is unlike anything I've felt before. It’s primal, all-consuming.

I kick the door in, wood splintering under my boot. The crack of gunfire follows before the door even finishes swinging open. No hesitation. No warning. Just three precise shots, center mass.

Ronan's eyes go wide with shock as the bullets tear through him. His own gun, half-raised toward Jenna, clatters to the floor. Blood blooms across his expensive suit jacket.

He stumbles back, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You…" The word comes out wet, gurgling.

“Time to die, Ronan.” I repeat the words he said to Jenna as I point the gun at his head. He staggers and then crumples to the ground.

I step closer, wanting him to see my face, wanting him to know exactly who ended him. "That's for my parents. For Jenna. For our baby." My finger tightens on the trigger one final time. "And that's for thinking you'd ever touch what's mine."

The last shot echoes through the small room. Ronan goes still, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

Ten years of plotting revenge, and in the end, it wasn't about vengeance at all. It was about protecting the future I didn't even know I wanted until tonight.

I rush to Jenna huddled in the corner.

My hands reach for her, but she flinches.

"Are you hurt?”

She presses herself further against the wall. Her eyes, wide with fear of me, cut deeper than any wound I've ever received.

"Don't touch me." Her voice shakes, arms still wrapped protectively around her middle. Around our child. “You killed him.”

I’m confused. I mean, yes, I did kill him. Surely, she knows that if I hadn’t, he’d have killed her.

“Jenna, we’re still in danger. We need?—”

"You used me. Just like him."

It doesn’t sit well that she’s comparing me to Ronan. But as I watch her shrink away from me, I understand the full magnitude of what I’ve done. I didn't just plan to hurt her. I became exactly like Ronan. I used her innocence against her, just like Ronan did when she was thirteen.

"Jenna, I…” The words stick in my throat. How do I explain that in exacting my revenge, everything changed? That I fell in love with her? That all I want to do right now is get her safe and protect her and our child for the rest of our days?

The fear in her eyes tells me it’s too late. I've broken something precious. Her trust in and love for me are irrevocably destroyed.