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But as her body trembles against mine, as I watch Ethan's expression darken with the same realization taking root in my own mind, I know I'm making promises I might not be able to keep.

My parents aren't playing chess anymore—they're burning the whole board, and we're out of moves that don't end with more casualties.

The truth settles like ice in my veins. There's only one way to protect her and everyone she loves. Only one currency my parents value enough to call off their attack.

The answer looms before me like a gathering storm, and I know—with bone-deep certainty—that I'll do whatever it takes to stop Red's world from burning, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness, my own freedom.

Even if it means losing her.

The moonlight spills across Red's sleeping form, casting silver shadows under her eyes where tears have left their tracks.

She looks small curled up in my bed, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache.

Her breathing has finally evened out, but the occasional hitch betrays the storm still raging beneath the surface.

I've held her for hours, memorizing the weight of her against my chest, the scent of her hair, the way her fingers clutched my shirt like an anchor in rough seas. Now, watching her from the doorway, the truth I've been fighting crashes over me like a tidal wave, inescapable and devastating.

This won't stop. It never stops with my parents. They'll keep coming, keep destroying, keep hurting her until they get what they want.

My hands shake as I ease the bedroom door closed.

The click of the latch feels like a gunshot in the quiet suite.

Helplessness and rage war in my chest as I stride through the living room, past the scattered evidence of our futile investigation, onto the terrace where the night air does nothing to cool the inferno inside me.

My phone feels like lead in my hand as I pull up his number. The puppetmaster himself. One ring. Two. Each second stretches like years until—

"I was wondering when you'd call." His voice carries that familiar note of smug satisfaction that makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

"Stop." The word comes out raw, stripped of pride, of pretense. "Whatever game you're playing, whatever point you're trying to make—just stop."

"Game?" He chuckles, the sound sliding like oil down my spine. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, son. I'm simply conducting business as usual."

"By destroying innocent people?" My grip tightens on the phone until the case creaks in protest. "Brian's business, Amanda's store—they have nothing to do with this."

"Destroying?" His tone carries wounded surprise, as if I've accused him of something unthinkable.

"Ares, sometimes business deals fall through.

Markets fluctuate. These things happen in the real world.

" A pause, calculated for maximum impact.

"Some people simply aren't cut out to be real business owners.

It's unfortunate, but that's capitalism. "

"What do you want?" The words taste like ash.

"I want my son to come home." The mask slips just slightly, revealing the steel beneath. "I want you to remember who you are, where you belong. This... rebellion of yours has gone on long enough."

I close my eyes, seeing Red's tearstained face, feeling her body shake with sobs against mine. Fifteen years ago, I let them destroy her and her grandmother. Now they're doing it again, more thoroughly, more viciously.

"If I do..." My voice cracks, betraying the cost of these words. "You'll leave her alone? Her friends? Their businesses?"

"When you come home, I imagine you'll find that many of these.

.. unfortunate circumstances... will naturally resolve themselves.

" His tone is measured, careful. "Funny how things tend to stabilize when families are united.

When sons remember their priorities." A pause laden with implication.

"Twenty-four hours, Ares. After that, well. .. business can be so unpredictable."

The line goes dead, leaving me staring at the city below, the weight of my father's words crushing me like a physical force.

The city lights blur as the truth hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

I have to let her go. She'd made it out once, built a life for herself free from my family's poison.

And what did I do? I selfishly dragged her back into this hell, thinking I could have it all—her, my freedom, a life of my own choosing.

But I can't. Not without destroying everything she loves in the process.

I think of Red’s friends—Emma with her bakery, Brian with his nightclub, Amanda with her boutique.

They were happy before I came crashing into their lives.

A tight-knit family, supporting each other, thriving in their chosen paths.

And I shattered that with my presence, my desires, my foolish dreams of escaping the Saint legacy.

"They deserve better," I whisper to the night air, my breath fogging in the cool breeze. "Red deserves better. She deserves to be happy, to live her art without fear of my family's retribution."

My chest tightens as I realize what I need to do.

The only path forward that doesn't end with her entire world in ashes.

It's not fair for others to pay the price for my freedom.

I can't live with myself knowing their misery is my fault, the result of my selfishness in wanting to be with Red, in wanting a life outside my family's control.

Evelyn's face suddenly appears in my mind, her kind eyes now filled with disappointment. I can almost hear her voice, scolding me for the pain I've brought to her granddaughter's life. "You need to make this right, boy," she seems to say. And she's right. I do.

I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

I'm the heir to Saint Industries. I've been groomed for this role my entire life.

Maybe it's time I stop fighting it and accept my fate.

The only right thing to do is to give Red back her life, even if it means I can't be part of it.

Turning back to the suite, my mind is made up. I know what I need to do. Ethan won't like it—hell, he'll probably try to talk me out of it—but I don't have a choice. Not anymore.

As I step inside, the weight of my decision settles on my shoulders like a lead blanket. It's the only way to protect Red, to give her back the life she deserves. A life free from my family's poison. A life where her friends can thrive, where she can create her art without fear.

A life without me.

I take one last look through the bedroom door, memorizing the curve of her cheek in the moonlight, the way her hand curls beneath her chin, the soft sound of her breathing.

My heart fractures at the thought of never seeing her again, never holding her, never watching her paint with that fierce concentration that makes the world disappear.

But loving someone means putting their happiness above your own. And Red's happiness means freedom from the Saint family curse—even the part of it that loves her beyond reason.

I call my best friend, and the moment he picks up, I say with grim determination, "I need your help with something."

"Anything," Ethan answers without hesitation.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "I'm going back to Los Angeles. Back to Saint Industries."

The silence on the other end stretches, heavy with understanding. When Ethan finally speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. "There has to be another way."

"There isn't." I look back at the bedroom door, at the woman sleeping beyond it who deserves so much better than what loving me has brought her. "This is the only way to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe."

Sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go.