Page 34

Sophie’s gone.

I can still smell her perfume on my shirt, can still feel the weight of her hand in mine, the heat of her body pressed against me while she danced with that prick Sam like she didn’t have a care in the damn world.

And now? Now she’s vanished.

One second she was fire and silk on the ballroom floor. The next? Smoke and shadows.

The ballroom’s in chaos, sirens scream in the distance, security’s shouting over the noise, women crying in sequined gowns.

A tipped-over champagne tower sparkles like shattered glass under the emergency lights.

Oaks and Rye are securing exits, Bullet’s already tracked a blood trail through the service corridor.

But there’s no sign of her. No scent of her perfume.

No echo of her heels. No whisper of where she went.

Just that hollow ache in my gut like something’s been carved out of me.

And then James shows up.

He storms into the middle of the mess like he owns it, hair perfectly in place, jacket unwrinkled, mouth twisted into that permanent sneer he always gives when he sees me.

“This is what protection looks like?” he spits, eyes darting around the room. “Real professional.”

I step into his path, cracking my knuckles. “You wanna say that again, rich boy?”

“You heard me. My sister’s gone. And I don’t see her big bad biker boyfriend doing a damn thing but growling at people.”

I grab his shirt collar and shove him against the wall hard enough to rattle a light fixture.

“You don’t get to run your mouth. Not when we’re the only reason she wasn’t taken days ago. And not when I’m the one who will be tearing this city apart to get her back.”

He doesn’t flinch. Little bastard just adjusts his collar when I let him go.

“Back off, Legend. You’re done here. I’m stepping in. She’s entrusted me to take care of Paradise Falls if anything ever happened, and I’m not about to let your gang piss on our legacy.”

“That right?” I say, stepping closer. “You got some big plans, huh? Planning to show up to all them Derby events and smile for the cameras while Sophie’s goddamn missing?”

He straightens his tie. “Someone has to represent the farm. The horses don’t stop running because Sophie got herself into trouble.”

“You mean the trouble you left her to handle?” I growl.

James’s eyes narrow. “Your job is to find her. Mine is to make sure there’s still a farm left when she gets back. You don’t like it? Too damn bad.”

I take a breath, try to keep from decking him again. But my instincts are screaming now, louder than ever.

Something about this smells off.

Not just Sophie being gone, but how calm James is. How quick he is to slide into the spotlight. To claim the legacy.

I remember the way he looked at Sophie’s ridin’ trophies once, like they were his. The way he always talked about the farm like it had his name etched on the deed.

And now? Not even a scratch on him while the rest of us are bleeding.

“You ever notice,” I say low, voice colder now, “How nobody ever seems interested in getting rid of you? Sinners are burning our safehouses. Sophie’s taken. But you? Not even a busted lip.”

He scoffs. “Paranoid much?”

I glance at my watch. It’s been forty-five minutes since the blackout.

Less than forty-eight hours until the Gala at Churchill Downs and every goddamn camera in Kentucky points straight at Paradise Falls.

The Derby clock’s still ticking, and the vultures are circling.

If we don’t get her back before that stage lights up, the scandal alone could burn her world to the ground.

And that’s before Ezekiel and his freakshow from Pearly Gates get their claws in deeper.

Because deep down, I know this ain’t just about the Sinners anymore.

This is bigger. Twisted. Biblical.

If Ezekiel sent that boy, if he's watching, then Sophie’s not just leverage, she’s a sacrifice.

I don’t say it out loud. Not yet.

I watch James walk away, head held high like he didn’t just walk through the wreckage of a kidnapping with a plan in his pocket.

And I light a smoke, my jaw so tight my teeth ache, the flame shaking.

No distractions. No more games.

I’ve got forty-eight hours to bring her home.

Before the press sinks its claws in. Before the Derby makes us a target.

Before Ezekiel decides to finish what he started.

I’m gonna find Sophie. Before the Derby.

Or I’ll burn this whole goddamn state down trying.