Page 48

I stare at the encrypted files on my screen, my father's warning echoing in my head like funeral bells.

The shower stops running, and I hear Isabella moving around in the bedroom.

My chest tightens with the weight of what I'm hiding from her, what I'm risking.

But I can't look away now, not when we're onto something that makes Theodore Saint himself call at nearly three in the morning.

"Call Heath," I tell Ethan, my voice soft but rough. "Tell him we need this decoded yesterday. Whatever's in here has my father running scared."

"Who’s scared?" Isabella's voice cuts through our whispered conversation like a knife.

She stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, water still dripping from her hair onto her shoulders.

Her eyes narrow as she looks between us, sharp with suspicion.

"Whatever you two are plotting, whatever has you both looking like guilty teenagers caught smoking behind the gym, I want to know. Now."

"We're just—" I start, but she holds up a hand, cutting me off.

"Don't." She moves into the room, focusing on Ethan's face on the screen.

"You know what, I'm not even asking Ares.

He'll just try to protect me." She leans closer to the laptop, eyes flashing with determination.

"Ethan, remember when my friends told you about my artistic threat regarding male anatomy and how that punishment is reserved for lying men who hurt my friends? "

Ethan swallows hard, actually leaning back from his screen. "Yeah?"

"Well, I'm expanding that policy to include best friends who help their friends keep secrets from their girlfriends. Especially dangerous secrets."

"Jesus, Red." Ethan's laugh is nervous, strained. "That's just mean. And possibly a felony."

"Try me." But there's a glint in her eye that says she's enjoying making him squirm, even as worry lines her forehead.

Ethan looks at me apologetically. "Sorry, man, but I like my balls where they are." He takes a deep breath. "We might have... hacked someone's computer."

"Might have?" Her eyebrow arches dangerously.

"Okay, we definitely hacked someone's computer. Theodore's computer, to be specific."

The playful atmosphere evaporates like morning mist as Isabella's face drains of color. "You... what?"

"A hacker just sent us files from Theodore's private server.

" The words tumble out as I watch her process this, watch fear replace irritation.

"I thought... I thought I might find proof of what happened fifteen years ago, but this.

.." I glance at the screen, my throat tight with the magnitude of what we might have uncovered.

"These files, Red, they point to something much bigger.

Something darker than just what they did to us.

The patterns, the coded transactions, Wells's suspicious accident.

.. I think my father's been hiding something massive. "

"Are you insane?" Her voice shakes with fear, with disbelief. "You actually broke into your father's computer? The man who buries careers and ruins lives with a single phone call?"

"I did it for us." I stand, needing her to understand, to see what I see. "I need leverage against them, Isabella. Something to make them back off, to stop their threats—"

"Why didn't you tell me what you were planning?" The hurt in her voice cuts deeper than any accusation.

"Because you would have told me not to do it." The words come out more blunt than I intended, hanging raw between us.

"You're damn right I would have." She wraps her arms around herself, a protective gesture that breaks my heart. "Because it's dangerous, Ares. Beyond dangerous. What if your father finds out?"

Ethan makes a strangled sound behind me, and Isabella's eyes snap to him. I watch the realization dawn on her face as she reads his expression, as the truth clicks into place.

"He already knows you hacked him, doesn't he?" Her voice is barely a whisper, horror threading through each word.

I can't bring myself to speak, but my silence is confirmation enough. The shock and fear that crosses her face hits me like a physical blow.

Without another word, she turns and walks away, leaving me with the weight of what I've done pressing against my chest like a stone.

"She's right," Ethan says quietly. "Maybe we should—"

"No." I sink back into my chair, the weight of Isabella's fear pressing against my heart. "We're too close to stop now. Whatever's in these files... it has to be worth it."

An hour later, I find Isabella in the bedroom, a silhouette against the city lights streaming through the windows.

She's still wrapped in my robe, standing with one arm crossed tight against her chest like she's trying to hold herself together, to keep from shattering.

Her other hand nervously twists her grandmother's ring on her finger—a reminder of everything she's already lost to my family's games.

"Red." My voice is rough with emotion, with regret.

"Don't." She doesn't turn. "Just... don't tell me it's going to be okay. Don't tell me you know what you're doing. Don't feed me pretty lies."

I watch her reflection in the window as she takes a deep, shaky breath.

Her eyes close for a moment, and I can almost see her weighing everything—the past, the present, what we could lose, what we might gain.

I want to cross the room, to touch her, to ask for forgiveness I’m not sure I deserve—but I wait.

When she finally turns to face me, there's something different in her eyes. Not just fear, but determination.

"No more secrets," she says, her voice stronger now. "If we’re walking into war, we walk in side by side. All the way."

The fierce certainty in her voice hits me like a physical blow. This isn't just acceptance; it's a choice. A declaration. She's choosing us, choosing to fight, even though she knows exactly what we're up against.

"Together," I promise, reaching for her. This time she comes willingly, though her heart still races against my chest. "No more secrets. No more letting them divide us. That's how they won last time."

We walk back to the dining room together, where Ethan's pretending he hasn't been eavesdropping. But as Isabella settles beside me, her shoulder pressed against mine, I feel something shift in the air between us. Something stronger than fear.

Whatever's in these files, whatever battle we're about to face, we're ready.

Because some loves are worth fighting for.

And ours? Ours is worth winning for.