Page 6 of The Reckoning (Oakmount Elite #7)

FOUR

ARIES

T he corporate apartment’s main room reeks of expensive neutrality—beige walls and generic furniture. The kind of soulless space designed to be forgotten. Two guards lie unconscious on the hardwood floor. Blood pools beneath the head of the one Drew pistol-whipped when he reached for his radio.

It felt fucking good to watch that bastard drop.

My knuckles throb from connecting with the other guard’s jaw, the pain a welcome reminder that I’m free, that I can fight back. Months of captivity have left me weaker than I’ve ever been, but rage makes up for a lot of lost muscle mass.

“That was unnecessary,” Drew mutters, checking the pulse of the guard I dropped.

Still breathing, unfortunately, despite the two shots I fired at them. Okay, to be fair, I was only trying to scare them. I don’t really want to deal with any dead bodies today.

“Was it?” I flex my fingers, working out the stiffness. “They’re keeping Lilian prisoner. Fuck ‘em. Plus, you just pistol-whipped that dude, man. A couple of warning shots and a punch to the throat isn’t going to matter much as long as they are alive.”

“I suppose, as long as no one dies.”

My gaze swings to my identical twin. Arson stands over the unconscious bodies with cold satisfaction, like he’s cataloging their injuries for future reference.

A similar satisfaction fills my chest, and all I can think is that sometimes you need to hurt someone just to remember that you still can.

One single door leads off the main room, and I know somewhere on the other side is where they’re keeping her.

The door is reinforced steel with an electronic lock pad that’s been flashing red since we arrived.

Nothing says I’m hiding something like extra security.

I can hear voices, though they’re muffled, on the other side.

Adrenaline zips through my veins. We’re so close to having her back, to having her safe. That’s when Arson’s phone rings.

Not the burner he’s been using to coordinate with his backers, but my phone—the sleek device that has been part of my daily life for years, carrying my contacts, my history, and my digital identity.

Arson pulls it out, his face filling with dread.

I peek at the screen and see Richard’s contact information. Fuck, this isn’t going to be good.

“Shit,” Arson hisses, staring at the device like it might explode. “What the fuck could he want?”

Drew glances between us, confusion evident. “Who?”

“Richard.”

The phone continues ringing, each tone another second of Lilian being locked away and out of sight.

“Answer it,” I finally say. “You’ve been playing me for months. Why stop now?”

Arson’s gaze cuts me in half, and I know what he’s thinking. This isn’t happenstance. He swipes to accept the call, his voice shifting into familiar patterns as he easily slips back into his impersonation of me.

“Yes, sir,” he says, and the formality makes my skin crawl.

Do I really sound that deferential when I speak to Richard?

I can’t hear Richard’s side of the conversation, but I watch Arson’s expression shift from neutral to concerned to barely controlled anger. Whatever Richard is saying triggers Arson and has me on alert.

“I understand,” Arson continues, voice clipped. “Yes. Of course, no, that won’t be a problem. I’ll be there.” The call ends a second later, and Arson stares down at the phone screen for a beat before looking up at us.

“Emergency board meeting at Hayes headquarters,” he explains, his voice tight. “Now. Apparently, there has been some unexpected movement regarding an acquisition. Richard wants all hands on deck.”

“What convenient timing he has,” Drew mutters, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Richard doesn’t do coincidences,” I say, the familiar weight of suspicion settling in my gut. “What else did he say?”

Arson’s hesitation confirms my fears. There’s more, something he doesn’t want to share. Something that’s shifted the calculus of this entire situation.

“Nothing worth repeating,” he dismisses, already moving toward the door. “We need to focus on getting Lilian out.”

“Bullshit.” I grab his arm, noting how he tenses at the contact. “I have a right to know. What aren’t you telling me?”

Our eyes meet again, identical faces reflecting identical determination. For a moment, I see past the hatred he’s cultivated over the decades, past the carefully constructed walls of rage and resentment, and what I see makes my heart skip a beat.

Regret.

“He said something about traveling,” Arson admits finally. “That’s not going to happen. I can’t leave right now. Not with...everything going on. I won’t.”

Richard uses vague language like that when he’s maneuvering pieces on his chessboard, as he prepares for some larger play that requires absolute control over his assets, which would include his son.

“Something’s wrong,” I announce, studying Arson’s expression. “Does he suspect something about your behavior?”

“Maybe.” Arson’s jaw tightens. “He doesn’t know I’m free, but he might be picking up on inconsistencies. Things you would do differently.”

“Like what?”

“Like caring about Lilian’s whereabouts. Like missing meetings. Like any of the hundred small things I’ve had to guess on while playing you.” Arson runs a hand through his hair. “If he’s suspicious enough to call an emergency meeting...”

“Then maybe he’s testing you,” I finish, the familiar dread settling in my gut. “Seeing if you’ll respond the way I would.”

Drew shifts nervously. “What happens if you fail the test?”

Neither of us answers, but we both know what happens. Richard doesn’t tolerate deception, especially not from family. If he discovers his golden son has been replaced by the twin he’d had committed… all hell will break loose.

“We’re all fucked.” Arson’s expression is grim.

“Then you have to leave, right? We can’t take the risk.”

“There isn’t another option.” For the first time in forever, I see my brother conflicted, and I understand that feeling all too well. “Why couldn’t he have called ten minutes later?”

“Look, it’s fine. We’ll get Lilian out. You go deal with him. It’ll look way too suspicious if you don’t show up.”

Arson nods once, slowly, and we agree. Just two brothers staring down the same monster.

“Don’t fuck this up,” he says, already moving toward the apartment’s exit. “If anything happens to her, there won’t be anyone to stop me from killing you.”

“Likewise, Brother.”

What I don’t tell him is that if anything happens to Lilian, if she dies because of this, I will never forgive myself. He pauses at the door, one hand braced on the frame, looking back at me with an expression I can’t quite read—part fear, part something else I’m not ready to name.

“I mean it… if anything happens to her?—”

I cut him off, sharper than I intended. “Nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.” My voice lowers, steadier now. “I’ll update you the second we have her and figure out what the plan is.”

“Okay.” The word is quiet, almost reluctant.

His gaze lingers, searching my face like he’s trying to make sure I understand something he can’t bring himself to say.

His mouth opens, then closes again. A thousand unspoken words hang between us, heavy enough to feel in my chest. Then he’s gone, disappearing into the hallway, leaving Drew and me alone with the unconscious guards and the steel door that separates us from Lilian.

In the sudden silence, I can hear all my worries and fears as if they have their own heartbeat.

“This is fucked,” Drew mutters, checking the electronic lock. “If Richard’s suspicious…”

We’re balancing on a knife’s edge. One slipup and we could bleed out.

There’s no denying that Richard suspects something is amiss with his son’s behavior, but he’s unaware of Arson’s existence. If Arson can maintain the deception, continue playing the role of Aries Hayes, we still have a chance.

But if Richard sees through the performance…

I shake the thought away. None of that changes the immediate reality.

Lilian is behind that door, trapped because of our family’s toxic legacy.

Whatever Richard’s endgame might be, it doesn’t matter.

I can’t do anything until I get her to safety.

I press my ear to the steel, listening to the conversation within.

I can barely make out the muffled voices.

“Let’s finish this,” I say, stepping back as Drew works on the lock.

“After we get her out,” Drew continues, “where do you want to take her? My place is secure, but I don’t want all of this around Bel. I have another warehouse I can take you to.”

I study him with growing suspicion. “What’s your angle in all this? Why help either of us?”

Something that looks close to guilt flashes in his eyes before he blinks it away. “That’s not important right now.”

“It is to me.”

“Look,” Drew says, exasperation breaking through his usual composure, “you can hate me later. Both of you. Right now, we need to move before those men in there decide Lilian’s outlived her usefulness.”

He’s right, but the betrayal of his negligence still sits in my gut like poison.

Drew Marshall—my teammate, my confidant, one of three people I actually trusted.

All this time, he watched me vanish and said nothing, did nothing.

When this is over, when Lilian is safe, I’ll let him know exactly how I feel about his betrayal.

For now, I need him, so I bite my tongue and carry on.

Drew works on the electronic lock with practiced efficiency, another surprising skill from my supposedly straightforward friend.

The red light flickers to green, and the steel door slides open with a soft hiss.

The scene that greets us stops me cold in my tracks.