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CHAPTER EIGHTY

THE DOOR WASN’T locked.

I stared at the handle for a long moment, heart pounding so loud it vibrated in my ears. Drago never forgot to lock it. Ever.

But tonight, he had.

This was a mistake. His mistake.

A breath shook out of me as I eased it open, stepping into the hallway. My legs felt weak, but I moved, bare feet gliding silent over the floor. Every second counted. Every sound mattered.

Lucy. I had to get to Lucy.

When I reached Fang’s door, I wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Of course he locked it. He wasn’t about to let her get away.

My hand trembled as I reached into my hair and pulled out the thin metal hairpin I’d tucked there. My mind going to the memory of Lucy teaching me how to pick a lock.

Keep your fingers steady, she’d said. You gotta feel for the shift, like the door’s sighing open for you.

I dropped to one knee, worked the pin into the lock. My fingers were slick with sweat, and panic clung to my spine like a second skin.

One pin. One twist.

The click was faint. Almost nothing.

But I heard it.

I opened the door and slipped inside.

Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed, her wrists marked from where he’d grabbed her earlier. When she saw me, she jerked upright, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Zeynep?” she whispered.

I nodded, holding a finger to my lips. No sound. No hesitation.

She got to her feet without a word. We didn’t need to speak. We’d been through enough to know when it was time to run.

I motioned for her to follow, and together, we slipped into the dark hallway, moving fast, silent.

Almost there.

We turned the corner toward the back exit when a shadow stepped into our path.

My stomach dropped.

I didn’t know her name, but I’d seen her glaring at me earlier when Drago and I got back.

She blocked the exit, arms crossed, a cruel smile twisting her lips. Her eyes flicked between us, amusement gleaming behind them.

“Well, well,” she drawled, her voice thick with mockery. “Look at this. The princess and her ugly maid. Sneaking out like little rats.”

Lucy stiffened beside me. “Move, Ashlynn.”

Ashlynn tilted her head, tapping a manicured nail against her chin. “Hmm. No.”

My breath came fast, urgent. We didn’t have time for this. “Please,” I said softly, my accent thicker from the fear curling in my throat. “Let us go.”

She laughed, stepping closer. “Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart.” Her eyes snapped to me, filled with venom. “You don’t deserve to run. You have everything, Zeynep. Drago. His love. His loyalty. His club.” Her lip curled. “And you keep throwin’ it away. He’ll finally see me when I keep you bitches from gettin’ out”

Lucy clenched her fists. “Love? He owns her. That’s not love.”

Ashlynn’s gaze darkened. “You don’t know a damn thing.” Her fingers flexed at her sides. “Spinner should’ve picked me. He should’ve seen what I could be for him. What I am. But no, it was always you.” Her face twisted with fury as she looked at Lucy. “And now I have my heart set on Drago and you bitches are my chance.”

My stomach turned. This wasn’t just hate. This was obsession. Obsession over a getting a patch.

Lucy took a step forward, lowering her voice, turning it smooth, almost conspiratorial. “You know… maybe you’re looking at this wrong.”

Ashlynn blinked, her lips parting. “What?”

Lucy tilted her head, her expression shifting, a glint of calculation in her eyes. “As long as she’s here Drago will still want Zeynep. He loves her too much.” She let the words sink in, then shrugged. “But if you helped us disappear… you could finally have him. Completely. No more distractions. No more Zeynep. Just you.”

Ashlynn hesitated, her nails digging into her palms. She was thinking about it.

Lucy stepped even closer. “You’ve been waiting for this chance, haven’t you?” she whispered, her voice soft, coaxing. “Drago might still be obsessed with her, but if she’s gone… really gone, he’ll finally see you.”

The doubt in Ashlynn’s face flickered, then dimmed.

I held my breath. Would she do it? Would she actually let us go?

A sound from down the hall, a door opening. Voices.

Ashlynn’s jaw clenched. Then, slowly, she stepped aside.

Lucy’s fingers curled around my wrist. “Go,” Ashlynn hissed. “Before I change my mind.”

We didn’t wait. We didn’t look back.

We ran.