Page 30

CHAPTER 30

Raven

When my mind tells me I'm about to start playing a losing game, Malakai’s words keep replaying in my head: Let him talk. Let him dig his own grave.

So I do what I have to. I knock on Alex's dorm room.

The door swings open almost immediately, like he was waiting. Alex stands in the doorway, looking… different.

Not different like he cut his hair or changed his style. No, this is the kind of different that comes from losing everything you thought you were entitled to.

His eyes are darker, sharper. There’s a wild edge to him now, like an animal that’s been backed into a corner and doesn’t know whether to run or bite.

I swallow my disgust and step inside.

His dorm is a mess. Clothes piled on the bed, empty liquor bottles on his desk. A chair knocked over in the corner, like he kicked it in frustration.

He’s unraveling.

And I’m about to watch him snap.

I cross my arms, leaning against the wall, keeping my expression neutral. “Alright, Alex. What do you want?”

He closes the door behind me, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “We need to talk.”

I raise a brow. “You don’t say.”

He exhales hard, like I’m the problem here. Classic Alex.

“Look,” he starts, pacing. “I know things have been… tense. But I also know you’re smart enough to see what’s coming.”

I tilt my head, pretending to be bored. “Oh? And what’s coming?”

His lips curl into something that’s supposed to be a smile, but it’s more like a sneer. “The end of Malakai and The Pantheon.”

I blink. “You really think that?”

His eyes flash. “I know it.”

He steps closer, and I force myself to stay still, to not react. He wants me rattled. He wants me scared.

I refuse to give him either.

“I’m going to burn it all down, Raven,” he says, voice low and venomous. “The Pantheon, Malakai—every last one of them. And you’re going to help me.”

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He leans in, voice dripping with smug certainty. “I’m taking them down, and you’re going to be on my side when it happens.”

I stare at him. He actually believes this.

I fold my arms tighter, my nails digging into my skin to keep my rage in check. “And how, exactly, do you plan on taking them down?”

Alex smirks, like he’s been waiting for me to ask. “Simple. I make them look as dirty as they actually are.”

I don’t say anything, so he keeps going, pacing the room as he talks.

“I have everything I need to ruin The Pantheon,” he brags. “I’ll expose them for what they are—criminals. Power-hungry scum. People already whisper about the shit they do, but I’ll make sure those whispers turn into full-blown scandals.”

He turns to face me, eyes burning with something close to madness. “Bribery. Illegal activities. Drugs at their parties. I’ve got evidence of all of it.”

My stomach tightens, but I keep my face neutral. “You’re full of shit, Alex.”

He smirks. “Am I?”

He grabs his phone off the desk and scrolls, then holds it up for me to see.

Screenshots. Bank transfers. Photos.

The kind of evidence that, at first glance, would look real to anyone who didn’t know better.

My heart pounds.

He’s forging a case.

He shrugs, smug as ever. “Once I leak this to the right people, The Pantheon will crumble . No more secret society. No more Malakai running shit like he owns the world.”

I school my features, forcing my voice to stay level. “I can't believe you're doing this.”

His smirk doesn’t waver. “And yet, I am.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re actually insane.”

His eyes darken. “No, Raven. I’m desperate. ”

He steps closer, and this time, his voice softens. The manipulator comes out. The Alex who knows exactly how to twist a knife without getting blood on his hands.

“Listen,” he murmurs. “I get it. You think you owe Malakai something. You think he cares about you.” He shakes his head, voice almost pitying. “But this isn’t some love story, Raven. You’re a pawn to him.”

I clench my jaw.

Alex sees it.

He thinks he’s winning.

He exhales, his voice dropping even lower. “Do you even remember what happened that night? What he did to you?”

I freeze.

His eyes gleam. “Did you really consent to it?”

Rage floods my veins.

“You asked me to do that fucking ritual, Alex,” I snap, my voice shaking with fury. “ You begged me. You convinced me to go.”

His expression hardens. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is what people believe . And if I tell the right people that Malakai forced you, they’ll believe me .”

I inhale sharply, my nails digging into my palms. “You wouldn’t.”

His smirk is cold. “I would.”

I can’t fucking believe this.

He’d actually do it. He’d throw me under the bus, paint me as a victim , just to destroy Malakai.

I shake my head. “You’re disgusting.”

He tilts his head, watching me. “Maybe.”

I spin toward the door, ready to leave, but his next words freeze me in place.

“I’ll take care of your mother.”

I go still.

Slowly, I turn to face him. His smirk is gone. He looks almost… sincere.

“If you play along with me,” he says, “I’ll make sure she’s set for life . The best medical care. The best doctors. No more worrying. No more struggling. Just— freedom. ”

A cold wave crashes over me.

He’s not just threatening me. He’s dangling hope in front of me. And that —that is worse than anything.

I swallow, my voice barely a whisper. “You have some fucking nerve.”

His expression flickers, but he holds steady. “I’m giving you a way out.”

I glare at him, my heart hammering. “And what if I say no?”

His smirk returns, sharper now. “Then I’ll make sure everyone sees Malakai for what he really is. And I’ll make sure you go down with him.”

The room feels suffocating. Alex is standing too close, his voice too smooth, his threats too real.

I exhale slowly, keeping my voice steady. “I’ll think about it.”

I turn to leave, and this time, he doesn’t stop me.

But as I step out into the hall, my mind is already made up.

There’s no thinking. No choice. I’ll play his game. I’ll let him believe he’s got me under his thumb.

When he begins to fully trust that he controls me, I’ll burn him alive.

I should keep walking. I should step outside, let the cold air clear my head, and go straight to Malakai.

But something gnaws at my brain like a splinter I can’t dig out.

I didn’t ask about him . Alex’s father. The real villain in all of this.

I slow to a stop just before the exit, my heartbeat loud in my ears. This is stupid. I should leave. I need to leave.

But my feet don’t listen. Instead, I turn around and retrace my steps, my stomach tight, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

Alex thinks he’s winning. Thinks he’s still got me wrapped around his finger.

It’s time to prove him wrong.

His door is still open when I get back.

He’s standing at his desk, pouring whiskey into a glass, looking every bit the arrogant prick he always was. He glances up when he sees me, one brow raising.

“Changed your mind already?” He smirks, lifting the glass to his lips. “That was fast.”

I shut the door behind me, keeping my face unreadable. “Not exactly.”

He watches me for a second, waiting, then exhales and sets his drink down. “Alright. What now?”

I tilt my head, arms crossed. “Tell me something, Alex.”

He hums, lazy and amused. “Anything for you, baby.”

I ignore the urge to slap him.

Instead, I say, “Is revenge all you care about?”

His smirk doesn’t waver. “Revenge is everything .”

I study him, watching the flicker of obsession in his eyes. He’s serious. He’s fully convinced this is his righteous path, that his life’s mission is to take down Malakai and the Pantheon, no matter the cost.

I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “And what about your father?”

His smirk falters. Just a little.

I see the flicker of hesitation, the way his fingers tighten slightly around the glass. But it’s gone in a blink.

“My father,” he repeats slowly, his tone indifferent.

I nod. “Yeah. The man you worship . The one who’s been protecting you your whole life. Do you even know what he’s done?”

Alex exhales, like this is beneath him. “Please. Spare me the conspiracy theories, Raven.”

I don’t back down. “He’s been hurting people.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s vague.”

“He’s been grooming girls .”

The words land heavy in the room.

For a second, Alex is quiet. He lifts his glass again, takes a sip, then licks a drop of whiskey from his lip.

Then, he laughs .

I freeze.

His laughter is casual. Almost bored. Like I just told him something as simple as, "It’s going to rain later . "

His lips curve into a slow smirk. “And?”

A cold wave crashes over me. I take another step closer, my heart pounding now. “Are you serious ?”

Alex shrugs. “Raven, my dad is a powerful man.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “That’s not an excuse.”

He tilts his head, watching me with mild amusement. “You’re acting like this is shocking. Women of all ages throw themselves at him. Have for years .”

My hands curl into fists. “That’s not what I said.”

He just keeps smiling, like we’re having a casual conversation. “My father is untouchable , Raven. He doesn’t force anyone to do anything. And the ones who do…” He lifts a shoulder, sipping his drink. “They’re paid well. They know the game.”

My blood runs cold.

“So it’s true,” I whisper.

He sighs, like this is boring him now. “Men in power have needs , sweetheart. The world runs on deals, and everyone has a price.”

I stare at him, my stomach twisting into knots. “You don’t even care .”

He doesn’t blink. “Why the fuck would I?”

I feel sick.

Not because this is news —deep down, I already knew Alex’s father was a monster. But I guess… I thought maybe Alex didn’t .

Or maybe, in some fucked-up way, I thought he’d be disgusted. That maybe this would be the thing to snap him out of whatever psychotic spiral he’s in.

But no. He’s fine with it. He accepts it.

And that is a different kind of horror.

I force my voice to stay steady. “So what do you think Malakai and I are trying to do? Just make noise ?”

Alex leans against his desk, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “I think you’re wasting your time.”

I don’t move.

He meets my gaze, calm and collected. “Do you really think anyone will talk? That any of those girls will come forward?” He smirks. “My dad guarantees they won't. And so do I.”

I exhale slowly.

There it is. The truth, straight from his mouth. He knows . And he doesn’t care . He never cared.

I force my shoulders to relax, make my features smooth. Play the game. I tilt my head, inhaling slowly, like I’m considering. Then, after a long pause, I nod.

“Maybe you’re right,” I say softly.

Alex smirks again. “Of course I am.”

I step back toward the door, fingers curling around the handle.

“Like I said,” he continues, lifting his drink toward me in a mock toast, “you should be on the winning side.”

I give him one last look, nodding. “I’ll think about it.”

Then I walk out.

And this time, I don’t stop.

The cold air outside feels clean. Like I’ve just spent the last hour choking on poison, and now I can finally fucking breathe again. My mind is a mess, but it goes back to an incident... and it makes me realize I always sort of knew that something was off with Alex Callahan Sr.

I was sixteen the first time I felt it.

That crawling sensation at the base of my spine, the kind of instinctual unease that tells you something isn’t right.

It happened in a hospital room.

My mother was asleep, her breathing shallow but steady, the heart monitor beeping in its slow, rhythmic pattern. I had been sitting by her side for hours, barely leaving except for coffee breaks and bathroom trips. The stress of her illness had worn me down to something thin, something fragile.

But then he arrived.

Alex Callahan Sr.

A powerful man. A godly man. The kind who owned a room with his presence alone.

He had swept in like a savior, dressed in an expensive navy suit, his hair immaculately combed back, his cologne thick and heady in the small space.

And he had smiled.

“Raven, dear,” he had said, his voice deep and smooth like the practiced tone of a man used to being worshiped. “How are you holding up?”

I forced a polite smile, gripping the chair’s armrest just a little too tight. “We’re doing okay. Thank you for coming, Pastor Callahan.”

He had waved a hand, brushing off the formality. “I told you before—I'm as good as family to you.” His gaze dropped to my mother, a soft sigh slipping from his lips. “Your mother is a strong woman. A woman of faith.”

I had nodded, saying nothing. Because what could I say?

She was strong. But faith didn’t cure sickness. Faith didn’t stop the relentless march of medical bills stacking up in our mailbox.

And Callahan Sr. knew that.

That was why he was here.

To remind me of what he had done for us. What he was still doing.

His financial support kept my mother in this hospital. Kept her stable. Kept me tethered to his world in ways I didn’t fully understand yet.

But I had still been grateful.

Until I caught the way he was looking at me.

It had started as something subtle. A glance, a lingering pause when I spoke. At first, I had brushed it off as nothing. Maybe I was imagining things, maybe I was reading too much into it.

But then his eyes had wandered.

I had been wearing a simple sweater and jeans, my hair pulled into a low ponytail, exhaustion written all over me. There was nothing special about the way I looked that day.

But it hadn’t mattered.

Because the moment his gaze had drifted—just slightly—lower than my face, I had felt it.

That shift in the air. That wrongness.

A heaviness settled in my stomach, something sickly and cloying.

I had forced myself to keep still, my skin crawling.

And then, as if nothing had happened, he had smiled.

“You are growing up to be such a beautiful young woman, Raven.”

A compliment. So simple. So harmless. But I had heard the weight in it. The implication.

The wrongness.

My pulse kicked up, my fingers curling into fists in my lap.

I forced a smile. Forced a nod. Forced myself to act as if I hadn’t noticed anything.

Because what was I supposed to do?

This was Alex’s father. The man who had given so much to our family. The man who was keeping my mother alive.

The man who had the power to take it all away.

So I sat there, silent, while he placed a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder.

“As always,” he'd murmured, his thumb grazing the fabric of my sweater, “if there is ever anything you need, anything at all… you know where to find me.”

I nodded. Smiled again. Let him squeeze my shoulder before he had left.

And when the door had closed behind him, I sucked in a shaky breath.

My stomach twisted, nausea creeping up my throat.

I hadn’t understood why I felt so gross back then. So dirty.

I hadn’t understood why my skin still prickled where he'd touched me.

I had told myself I was overreacting. That I was just exhausted, that I was imagining things.

But deep down, I had known. Something was wrong with that man. And now, years later, I finally knew the truth .

I don’t go straight to Malakai’s. Not yet.

I need to process this first. The implication of Alex’s words, the absolute lack of humanity in his voice. He knows . He knows his father has been preying on young girls. And he doesn’t give a fuck . As if things could get no worse, there's something else...

He thinks we don’t stand a chance.

I exhale, my breath visible in the cold night air.

We’ll see about that.

Alex Callahan Jr. just signed his own death warrant.

And his father?

His empire is about to burn .