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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ZEYNEP SAT BESIDE me, her body tense, shoulders hunched like she was bracing for impact. The deep shadows under her eyes told a story of too many sleepless nights, too much pain carried alone. When she shifted uncomfortably, I grabbed the glass of water from the table and handed it to her without a word.

She took it with a shaky hand, her fingers cold against mine, and sipped carefully, her throat raw from disuse. Every move she made looked like an effort, like her body was fighting against her just to function. But her eyes—those eyes held fire. Held a truth I wasn’t sure Spinner was ready to face.

Devil sat in the corner, his presence steady but removed, like he knew any unnecessary pressure could make her more nervous. He stayed just out of her line of sight, letting me take the lead. This wasn’t just about getting answers. It was about making sure she didn’t break in the process.

Spinner sat across from her, his posture rigid, his jaw locked tight. The photograph and Fang’s property cut lay on the table between them like an open wound. I could see the conflict in his face, the war between doubt and anger.

“You sure you’re up for this?” My voice came out lower than I expected, softer than I’d ever spoken to anyone. It barely sounded like me.

Zeynep nodded, her throat working as she swallowed hard. Her first attempt to speak came out as a dry croak. I saw the frustration flicker in her eyes before she tried again.

“I need to,” she rasped, each word a battle.

I took the glass from her hands before she dropped it, setting it aside. “Take your time.”

Her gaze landed on the photo, then the cut, her fingers tightening in her lap. A spark of something fierce broke through the exhaustion, her jaw clenching. “It’s... a lie.”

Spinner leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then what is it? Looks like Lucy had somethin’ going with Fang.”

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing, the anger behind them unexpected. Defensive. Protective. “No,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Lucy... she hated him.”

I frowned, but before I could press, I saw it—the way her body tensed, the way she fought to keep her breathing steady. She was reliving it.

“Zeynep, you don’t have to push yourself,” I murmured, my fingers flexing against my knees, resisting the urge to reach for her.

She shook her head. No hesitation. “Fang... fixated on Lucy. Wanted her. I warned her... he was dangerous. She didn’t listen.”

Spinner’s voice was strained. “Why? What happened?”

Zeynep’s breath was shaky, her hand gripping my sleeve as if it was the thread stitching her to the moment. “Drago,” she croaked. “He... punished.”

I went still, tension rippling through me. “Punished you how?”

Zeynep squeezed her eyes shut like she had to fight to get the words out. “Not me,” she whispered. “Lucy.”

The words knocked the breath from my lungs. I could feel Spinner go rigid beside me, the accusation hitting him like a sledgehammer.

“Lucy?” he repeated, his voice raw with disbelief.

Zeynep’s eyes locked onto his, desperate. “Drago ordered it. Fang... attacked her. Because of me.”

The air in the room turned suffocating. “Attacked her how?” Spinner asked, voice barely controlled.

Zeynep’s fingers trembled against my sleeve. “He hurt her. Tried to... break her.” She sucked in a sharp breath, tears welling in her eyes. “She fought. Until he knocked her out. She wasn’t... conscious when he... but I wasn’t allowed to look away.”

I clenched my fists, my vision going red. I had seen some dark shit in my time, but this—this hit different.

“That’s enough,” I said, firm and quiet. I’d shoulder every demon she carried if it meant she could rest.

But Zeynep wasn’t done. “She... she got me out,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “If it wasn’t for her... I’d still be there.”

Her words slammed into Spinner like a freight train. I saw it happen in real time, the moment every doubt, every misplaced accusation, came crashing down on him. He looked at the photograph again, his fingers curling into fists.

“The photo,” he muttered, his throat tight.

Zeynep’s eyes flashed. “Fake,” she spat, conviction trembling in her voice.

The chair scraped against the floor as Spinner stood abruptly. His whole body looked like it was caught between fury and regret. “Do you know where she’d go?” he asked, voice tight, desperate.

Zeynep’s shoulders slumped. “No.”

I ran a hand over my face, exhaling sharply. “Enough. You’re gonna do real damage if you keep pushin’ yourself.”

Spinner turned toward Devil, who had been silent, watching. “Where the hell do we start lookin’?”

Devil stood, his expression grim. “Wherever she is, we need to find her before Fang does.”

Zeynep’s thin fingers wrapped around Spinner’s wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Find her,” she rasped, her eyes pleading. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

Spinner swallowed hard and gave a firm nod. “I will.”

As he walked out of the room, I could see it, guilt settling in his shoulders, weighing him down. He had misjudged Lucy. He had failed her.

I clenched my fists. Now, it wasn’t just about making things right.

It was about getting her back. Before Fang hurt her again.

And this time—we wouldn’t fail her.