Page 43 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Thirty-Four

S everal bottles later, the apartment was a mess of scattered papers, empty glasses, and two women well past tipsy, sprawled out on the floor against the couch.

Taylor picked up the letter again, squinting as if she hadn’t already read it five times. “Girl, this letter from your dad… it gets me every time.”

Victoria let out a dry laugh, swirling the last of her wine in her glass. “Yeah, he must’ve written it when he realized Cassian had figured out his betrayal,” she sighed, tipping her head back against the couch.

Taylor snorted, shaking her head. “Vic, I know you’re trying to downplay it, but this is more than just a goodbye letter. He wanted you to have this, to know what he was up against.” She flipped the page over like she’d find something new. “He was trying to warn you.”

Victoria stared at the ceiling, lips pressed together. “Yeah… and now I have to figure out what the hell to do with all of it.”

Taylor clinked her glass against Victoria’s in mock celebration. “Well, lucky for you, I excel in drinking wine and solving life-shattering conspiracies.”

Victoria smirked. “Good. Because I think we’re only scratching the surface.”

Victoria blinked, her vision slightly hazy as she flipped between the pages. The testimonies from the court case blurred together with the cramped, careful handwriting in her father’s notebook.

She froze, her eyes scanning the page again.

“Wait… I don’t remember there being an actual court case,” she murmured, more to herself than to Taylor. Her brows pulled together as she traced a name with her finger. “I mean, I knew he was gathering evidence, but no one ever said anything about it going to trial.”

She frowned, sitting up straighter. Something wasn’t adding up.

"Am I drunk, or is this name the same as this name here?" she muttered, pointing at the judge’s name in the court documents before dragging her finger across the notebook’s pages.

Taylor, who had been dramatically lounging against the couch, perked up at the tone in Victoria’s voice. “Wait, what?” She scooted closer, squinting at where Victoria was pointing.

Victoria’s pulse kicked up. It was the same name. The same damn judge.

“Tell me I’m not crazy,” she said, her voice sharper now, urgency cutting through the wine haze.

Taylor’s lips parted as her gaze flicked between the testimony and the ledger, realization dawning. “Holy shit.”

Victoria’s grip tightened on the notebook. “The judge from my father’s case… was on Cassian’s payroll.”

Taylor swirled the last bit of wine in her glass, scanning the scattered pages. “I wonder if he’s still practicing. That would explain why the ledger is so important.”

Victoria blinked, processing the thought. She grabbed the nearest document, eyes darting between the judge’s name and the matching entry in her father’s notes.

“There’s more.”

She flipped through the pages, fingers tracing over the scrawled entries. “I overlooked this.” She pointed to a section labeled Judges Being Paid. “There are at least three judges listed.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.” She snatched the notebook, scanning the names. “I need to see if they’re still practicing.”

“I’ll grab my laptop,” Victoria said, pushing herself up, only to sway slightly. “I’m good,” she muttered, gripping the back of the couch for balance.

She glanced at the microwave clock. “Taylor… umm, it’s one in the morning.”

Taylor took another sip of wine, completely unbothered. “Yeah, and?”

“Do you have a shift? I don’t.” Victoria sighed.

Taylor waved her off. “No, silly, it’s Thursday. We go dress shopping today.”

Victoria blinked. “Right.”

“Girl, go get the damn laptop.” Taylor smirked, her voice low and teasing.

Victoria’s laugh was soft, a little too breathless, as she swayed toward her room.

The wine had already started to buzz through her veins, making everything feel hazy, a little too alive.

She pushed open her door, her eyes immediately drawn to the mess of her bed, to the scattered sheets—flashes of Tristan invading her thoughts like a slow, aching burn.

Her body stilled, pulse quickening. Tristan. Sprawled out on her bed, muscles rippling under his skin, every inch of him glistening with sweat. The way his body had moved, how he’d felt against her. God, he was all heat, all raw power.

Her chest tightened, and she fought to focus, tried to ignore the way her skin flushed at the thought of him.

But the memory was too strong, too vivid.

She could almost feel his breath on her neck, low and dark, whispering promises in a voice she could still hear, “I’m not going to ask you what you want. ”

Her hands clenched, her body responding to the memory of him, aching for him.

Fuck.

I want him . No, I needed him . She needed everything that came with him. His darkness. His heat. His control.

Without a second to even think of what she was doing, Victoria went straight to the long mirror in the corner of her room, furthest from the door.

Her breath quickened as she pulled down her tank top, lifting her breasts to get the perfect, satisfying push-up.

She stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes locking onto her reflection with a predatory gleam.

She ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it had that perfect “just fucked” look.

She pushed her breasts back into position, making sure everything was exactly how she wanted it, and began snapping photos.

“Did you get lost?” Taylor’s voice called out from the other room, pulling her back to reality.

“Coming,” Victoria quickly replied, grabbing the laptop and filtering through the photos. When she found the one she wanted, the one that made her pulse race, she hesitated for a split second before scrolling through her phone to find his name.

No more second-guessing. She needed something completely unhinged, something to shake him up, to make him feel the fire she was sending through every damn picture.

With trembling hands, she typed, her words spilling out faster than her mind could catch up to.

Victoria

Come and get me.

She attached the photo and hit send, the weight of her actions hitting her a beat too late. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She hadn’t thought it through. She didn’t care. She wanted him. And now, she was making sure he knew it.

Victoria walked back into the living room, her pulse still hammering from what she’d just done.

The alcohol was one thing, but now she was riding a whole different kind of high: the rush of reckless abandon, the thrill of pressing send before logic could interfere.

Her skin was hot, her face flushed, and the moment she stepped back into the room, she fanned herself with one hand.

“Is it hot in here? Are you hot? I’m burning up,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair, as if that would cool her down.

Taylor’s eyes snapped to her immediately, her wine glass halfway to her lips before she slowly set it down. “Ohh. What. Did. You. Do?”

Victoria scoffed, feigning innocence. “What makes you think I did something?”

Taylor let out a sharp laugh. “Because you have the ‘come fuck me’ eyes.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, but the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips gave her away. She flopped down onto the couch, wiggling the laptop open, as if she could pretend like she wasn’t buzzing with anticipation.

“You didn’t,” Taylor accused, leaning in, her eyes narrowing in delight.

“What?” Victoria blinked, the picture of innocence as she waited for her laptop to load. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Taylor snorted. “Bitch.”

Victoria just smirked, but inside? She was combusting.

Acting like nothing happened, Victoria pulled up the web browser, her fingers moving over the keyboard. The screen’s glow illuminated her face, but she barely saw it—her mind was still back in her bedroom, still locked onto the reckless text she’d just sent.

“Uh-huh. So we’re just gonna act like you didn’t just detonate a nuclear bomb in your love life?” Taylor watched her with suspicion, swirling the wine in her glass.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Victoria kept her eyes on the screen, biting back a smirk.

Taylor groaned. “You’re impossible.”

Victoria exhaled, finally dragging her focus back to the reason they were up at two in the morning. “Okay, let’s see if these judges are still sitting on their thrones.”

Taylor handed over the notebook as Victoria typed in the first judge’s name. She frowned at the screen. “Huh. Okay… he’s dead. Boating accident.”

Taylor leaned in. “Weird.”

Victoria typed in the next name, the judge from her father’s case. Her stomach dropped. “Taylor… he’s dead.”

Taylor scooted closer, eyes darting to the screen. “What?”

“Check Judge, um…” Taylor flipped through the notebook, dragging her finger down the list. “Allen.”

Victoria’s fingers flew across the keys. A second later, she blew out a slow breath. “Dead.”

Taylor’s brows shot up. “You’re kidding.”

Victoria leaned back, staring at the screen. “Nope. All three of them. Gone.” Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a creeping unease settling in her chest. “One in a boating accident, one in a hit-and-run, and the last one…” She clicked on an article, eyes narrowing. “Heart attack, supposedly.”

Taylor let out a low whistle. “That’s convenient.”

Victoria’s stomach twisted. “Too convenient.” She flipped back to her father’s notes, scanning the pages like the answers would suddenly jump out at her. “These deaths weren’t random. Someone’s cleaning house.”

Taylor tapped her fingers against her wine glass, deep in thought. “If your dad was tracking judges on Locke’s payroll, and now they’re all dead…” She let the thought hang between them.

Victoria swallowed hard. “Then that means Cassian Locke is having his clowns tie up loose ends.”

Ping!

Her phone vibrated against the table.

Her eyes went wide.

Oh. Fuck.

Taylor’s head snapped up. “What?”

Victoria didn’t answer. Her pulse pounded as she reached for her phone, stomach twisting with both dread and anticipation. She already knew who it was. Slowly, she flipped the screen over.

Tristan.

Her breath caught.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Oh. My. God. Is that who I think it is?”

Ignoring her, Victoria tapped the message open. The second her eyes skimmed the words, heat surged through her, hotter than the wine burning in her veins.

Tristan

Careful what you wish for, love. I don’t take kindly to being teased.

Desire curled low in her belly, spreading like wildfire.

“What did he say?” Taylor vibrated with excitement.

Victoria locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the table like it burned her. “Nothing.”

Taylor cackled. “Liar. That face says everything.”

Victoria swallowed, trying to steady herself. The judges were dead. Cassian didn’t keep loose ends. They were sitting on something dangerous.

And yet, all she could think about was Tristan .

She’d just thrown gasoline on a fire.

God help me —she wanted to burn.

Victoria

Do you see me running?