Chapter Fifteen

“I’m not staying locked up like some fragile doll, Jillian.”

“You promised.”

“I promised I’d stay safe. Not that I’d stay silent.”

He was pacing again, fingers clenched into fists at his sides. His tie hung loose around his neck, and he hadn’t slept. Neither had I.

“The last safe house she blew up was a message,” he said. “A direct hit. She’s not playing games anymore.”

“Then why are we?”

He stopped walking, turning to face me with fire in his eyes. “You think this is a game to me?”

“No,” I said quietly. “I think it’s personal.”

“It is.”

He walked toward me, stopping just short of touching me.

“She killed people I trained. Men I trusted. She’s twisting everything.”

I looked up at him, eyes searching. “Then let me help you untwist it.”

“You don’t understand how deep this goes.”

“Then explain it.”

He exhaled like he was deflating. “There are things you don’t want to know, Christy. Things I’ve done. Things Alyssa’s still doing.”

“I’m already in it, Jillian. Stop trying to keep me on the sidelines.”

His silence stretched long enough that I almost stepped back.

Then he said, “You want the truth? Fine.”

I braced myself.

“She wasn’t just a fling. She was part of the family. One of us.”

I blinked. “You mean—”

“She was trained, raised like I was. Groomed to take over if I couldn’t.”

“And when you didn’t choose her…”

“She didn’t take it well.”

I looked away. My voice was softer now. “So she loved you.”

“She loved the power. She never loved me.”

Silence again.

“I did love her once,” he admitted. “Before I knew what that meant. Before I knew how dangerous it is to love someone who only sees you as a weapon.”

And then his voice changed, gentler. “It’s not like that with you.”

“You’re scared it will be.”

“Yes.”

I stepped closer this time, lifting my hands to his chest. “I’m not her. I won’t be her.”

“I know.”

He kissed my forehead. “That’s what scares me more.”

Downstairs, Joseph was yelling into the phone.

“This is war, not a poker game! Tell Leon if he doesn’t send those men, he can forget the alliance.”

I stood in the doorway until he noticed me.

“Christy,” he said. “What are you doing out of the room?”

“I wanted to talk.”

He eyed me, expression unreadable. “About what?”

“Alyssa. Jillian. All of it.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

“I need to understand what’s going on.”

Joseph was silent for a beat, then said, “You’re braver than most men I know. But bravery doesn’t equal immunity.”

“I’m not asking to fight. I’m asking to know.”

He gestured for me to sit. “Fine. You want in? You’re in.”

“I’m already in, Joseph.”

“Right.” He chuckled darkly. “You married into this mess.”

“She’s targeting Jillian. She’s making it personal.”

He leaned forward. “She wants it personal. Because that’s how she wins. Jillian’s got a weakness now.”

I frowned. “Me?”

He nodded. “You. And if you’re not careful, she’ll use that until it breaks him.”

“I’m not his weakness,” I said, voice firm.

Joseph smirked. “We’ll see.”

Back upstairs, Jillian was on the phone with someone I didn’t recognize.

“No, it’s not enough,” he was saying. “If Alyssa’s getting help from outside families, we need to know who. I want names. I want bodies.”

He hung up and looked at me. “I need you to stay in the house tonight.”

“I wasn’t planning on going clubbing,” I said dryly.

He gave me a half smile. “I’m serious.”

I moved toward him, crossing my arms. “What’s going on?”

“We’re sending a message back.”

I froze. “A hit?”

He didn’t answer.

“You think this is what she wants?”

He met my gaze. “It doesn’t matter what she wants anymore. She crossed a line.”

I searched his face. “And how far are you willing to go to cross it back?”

His silence was all the answer I needed.

That night, I found myself wandering.

Not aimlessly—but with purpose.

Toward the west wing. Toward the doors Jillian always kept locked.

But tonight… one was slightly open.

Inside, computers hummed. Maps blinked on monitors. Digital files scrolled fast enough to make my eyes blur.

And sitting there, alone, was Elias—the tech guy I barely knew.

He looked up in surprise. “Christy?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to tattle.”

He relaxed. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“I figured.”

He turned back to the screens. “Let me guess—you want answers.”

“Yes.”

He hesitated, then nodded to a chair. “Sit.”

“Tell me about Alyssa.”

He didn’t look at me. “She’s smart. Smart enough to vanish. Smart enough to plant six different trails. She’s not working alone.”

“Who’s helping her?”

“That’s the thing—we don’t know. Yet.”

“Can you find out?”

“I’m trying.”

I leaned forward. “What if I helped?”

He looked amused. “You’re good with code?”

“I’m good at getting people to talk.”

Elias smiled. “Now that might be useful.”

He typed for a moment, then turned the screen toward me.

“This is one of the aliases she’s been using. Daria Nox.”

“Where was she last seen?”

“Gala in Milan. Two days before the hit.”

“She’s moving fast.”

He nodded. “And she’s wearing our signature.”

“What?”

He zoomed in on a still shot of Alyssa—lips painted red, hair darker now, but unmistakably her.

Around her neck?

A pendant.

The Colbert family crest.

“She’s not just after Jillian,” Elias said quietly. “She’s trying to replace him.”

And I felt something twist in my chest.

Because she wasn’t just sending a message.

She was trying to erase us completely.

Back in our room, Jillian was shirtless, sitting at the edge of the bed, polishing his gun.

When I walked in, he didn’t look up.

“I know what she’s doing.”

“Enlighten me.”

“She’s trying to become you.”

He paused. Slowly set the gun down.

“What?”

“She’s making appearances. Wearing your family’s symbol. Aligning herself with anyone that opposes you.”

He stood, every movement sharp. “Who told you?”

“I saw it. Elias showed me.”

His jaw flexed. “I told you to stay out of it.”

“And I told you I’m already in.”

His hands curled at his sides. “Do you know what she’s capable of?”

“Do you?”

He took two steps toward me. “She’ll come for you next.”

“Let her.”

He grabbed my face suddenly, not rough but urgent. His forehead pressed against mine.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.”

“Promise me you’ll stay alive.”

I nodded. “Only if you do too.”

He kissed me then, long and deep, as if he could press all his fear and fury into that moment. I clutched his shirtless torso like he might vanish, like I might.

But we were still here.

Still standing.

Still fighting.

And for the first time, I wasn’t scared of what that meant.

I was ready.