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CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Cam

The helicopter’s rotors finally slow as we step out into the cold night air. The safehouse is small and hidden, tucked into a thick grove of trees. It’s quiet, but the quiet feels heavy, unnatural. After the chaos, the silence presses down on me like a weight.

My legs are weak as I move, my body aching, but I keep going.

I have to.

For her .

Paigelynn is just behind me, her footsteps unsteady. She looks so pale, her hair a tangled mess, her clothes still damp from the spray of the water. But there’s something in her eyes—something steady.

Debbie moves ahead, leading the way into the safehouse. Her steps are quick, her focus sharp. She doesn’t look back at us, but I know she’s keeping track of everything.

Debbie always does.

Behind us, Sandor follows silently, his movements calm and deliberate. His presence is a shadow, his quiet energy unnerving.

I don’t know what to make of him anymore.

The safehouse is dimly lit, the air thick and stale. Inside, Gian Luisi is waiting, standing beside a small table covered in papers and maps. He looks up as we enter, his face calm but tired. His sharp features are unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes.

A mix of relief and tension.

I jolt, catching Sandor's eye. He nods, a curt gesture that says it all. Gian Luisi, of all people, huh?

My silent benefactor.

“You made it,” he says, his voice low but steady.

“Barely,” I mutter, brushing my hand against my ribs. The pain is sharp, radiating through my chest, but I push it aside. I can’t focus on that now. “Dominic’s dead.”

Gian nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “It had to happen,” he says, his tone a little too even for a guy whose father just died.

“Did it?” I snap, my voice cracking. “Did it really have to happen like that?”

Sandor jolts in surprise, avoiding eye contact. Debbie just watches me.

“Yes,” Gian says firmly, his eyes locking on mine. “Papa wasn’t going to stop. You know that. He would’ve hunted you both to the ends of the earth. He would’ve taken her. Done worse than your mother.” He nods toward Paigelynn, his voice softening slightly. “He left us no choice.”

My anger twists with something heavier, something sharper.

Guilt .

I hated Dominic, but I also... needed him. Or I thought I did.

He was all I had for so long. Now I don’t even know what that means.

Paigelynn steps closer, her voice soft but steady. “Cam,” she says, her hand brushing against my arm. “It’s over. You got us out.”

Her words hit me hard, but they don’t bring comfort. Instead, they bring a wave of emotion I’m not ready for. I got her out, sure.

But at what cost? My chest tightens, and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I look at her, at her wide eyes and trembling hands, and suddenly the weight of it all is too much. “I almost didn’t,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “If Sandor hadn’t... If Debbie wasn’t...” I trail off, shaking my head.

Paigelynn doesn’t say anything. Instead, she steps closer, wrapping her arms around me. Her grip is tight, like she’s holding me together.

Maybe she is.

I lean into her, my arms going around her shoulders.

“I’m here,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

I nod against her hair, my chest aching with something I can’t name. Relief, maybe. Or something like it. Not to mention several different injuries. My ribs, my shoulder, my... everything.

I cling to her, my fingers gripping her shirt, and for a moment, everything else fades. It’s just us. Just this.

But it doesn’t last.

Gian clears his throat, pulling me back to the present. I step back from Paigelynn, my hand falling to my side, but I don’t let go completely. My arm stays around her, needing to keep her close. I look at Gian, emotions boiling just beneath the surface.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice low but sharp. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working against Dominic? That you were helping us?” I give Sandor a look that says, You're in trouble, bud.

Gian sighs, his gaze steady. “Because I couldn’t,” he says simply. “If Dominic had suspected anything, it would’ve been over. For me. For Sandor. For you.” He points at Paigelynn. "And especially for her."

I shake my head, my hands clenching into fists. “You were my brother,” I say, my voice rising. “My adoptive brother. And you let me think you were on his side this whole time?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gian says, his tone calm but firm. “Papa controlled everything. Every move I made, every decision—it all had to look like it was for him. Otherwise, he would’ve destroyed me. And I wouldn’t have been able to help you.”

The words hit me hard, and I don’t know what to say. The anger is still there, but it’s mixed with something else. Confusion. Sadness.

Maybe even understanding.

I look at Gian, at the calm, calculating man I thought I knew, and I wonder how much of him I ever really understood.

“We didn’t do this lightly,” Gian continues, his voice steady.

“Sandor and I have been working for years to undermine Papa, Niall, and Angelina, to weaken the cabal from the inside. It wasn’t easy.

And it wasn’t without cost. But we did it.

For you. For her. And the others like her. ” He nods toward Paigelynn again.

I glance at Sandor, who’s standing quietly in the corner, his face unreadable. He doesn’t say anything, but his presence feels heavy, a shadow that won’t leave.

"If anyone's got the right to scream at someone, it's me," Debbie interjects, marching right up to me, finger in my face. "You fucking disappeared on me, Cam! Sandor reached out and he's damn lucky I believed him. You idiot! You went rogue!"

"I can explain – "

"No shit you're explaining." Nostrils flaring, face turning pink, Debbie reminds me of every tough-as-nails police chief on television giving an errant detective a "come to Jesus" talk.

"You went dark. Took a target to an underground bunker, then transported her across continents to this little island in Europe. "

"EUROPE!" Paigelynn gasps. "I'm in Europe?"

"I'll explain later," I mutter.

"You have any idea how many favors I had to cash out to get this fucking chopper? How many mercenaries I had to..." Debbie's voice drops as Gian and Sandor lean in, curious.

"Which agency do you work for again?" Gian asks.

She clears her throat. "TINSA."

Sandor frowns. "Is that a subdivision of the CIA?"

"Something like that." Debbie glares at me but goes quiet.

Gian moves to the table, picking up a thick dossier. He hands it to me, his expression serious. “This is everything we’ve gathered,” he says. “Names, locations, transactions. Proof of what they’ve done.”

I take the dossier, the weight of it heavy in my hands. The papers are thick, filled with words and images that blur together in my tired mind.

It’s all there—bank statements, contracts, emails.

Evidence of the cabal’s lies.

Evidence of their crimes.

“This will bring them down,” I say, my voice low but firm.

“It’s a start,” Gian says, though he snorts. “But it won’t be easy. They're weakened, but they’re not gone. They still have power. Influence. Public-facing cover stories. They won’t go quietly. They've spent years avoiding accountability successfully.”

“I don’t care,” I say, my grip tightening on the dossier. “They have to pay for what they’ve done. All of them.”

Paigelynn steps closer, her voice quiet but strong. “They took everything from us,” she says, her eyes shining with anger. “They don’t get to win.”

I look at her, my chest tightening. She’s been through so much, and yet she’s still standing. Still fighting. She’s stronger than I’ll ever be. I reach for her hand, squeezing it tightly, and she squeezes back.

Gian's thick eyebrows rise. "I wish I were as hopeful as you."

Debbie steps forward, her voice cutting through the quiet. “We’ll get this out,” she says, nodding toward the dossier. “The world needs to know. But we need to be careful. They won’t let this go unanswered. We'll be hunted.” She looks at me. "Like The Basher. They've got hundreds more."

Paigelynn shudders at his name.

“We’ll handle it,” I say, my voice steady. “We’ll make sure the truth comes out.”

The room falls silent, the weight of everything settling over us. The billionaire organ brokers' shadow still looms, but for the first time, it feels... weaker.

Like we’ve finally made a crack in their armor.

Debbie softens as she looks at Paigelynn, then me. She picks up her phone and turns the screen around. It reads 12:19 a.m.

Then she smiles a bitter grin mixed with triumph.

"Hey, Paigelynn?"

Paigelynn looks up at Debbie, timid and tired, "Yes?"

"Happy twenty-fifth birthday."

A rush of something bigger than me washes over my skin, making my joints sag, a bone in my throat going tight and loose at the same time. In all the chaos, I'd stopped tracking time, because when you're hunted, there's no such thing as seconds, minutes, hours, days.

There is only now.

There is only alive and dead. Now and not now.

Tears fill Paigelynn's lower lids as she looks at Debbie, her voice hitched as she says, "Thank you?

" then begins to laugh, a hysterical, high-pitched sound that quickly turns to something unhinged.

Gian looks uncomfortable and leaves the room, while Sandor pours himself a drink from a bottle of vodka that appears out of thin air.

Paigelynn leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, holding her close as she weeps, and I let myself feel the smallest flicker of hope as Debbie grabs the bottle from Sandor and drinks straight from the tap.

We’re not free yet.

But we’re closer.

And for now, that’s enough.