The ride back to the penthouse was silent, tension thick in the air. Leon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping his gun. His jaw was locked, his eyes dark.I knew that look.He was planning. Calculating.“Calloway just declared war,” I murmured, watching the city lights blur past the windshield.Leon exhaled sharply. “He did more than that. He underestimated us.”I studied his profile—the controlled rage simmering beneath his calm demeanor. He wasn’t just angry. He was ready to make a move.“We need to hit back,” I said.Leon’s grip tightened. “We will.”His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then tossed it onto the dashboard. “My father.”“Answer it,” I urged.Leon let out a slow breath before pressing the call button. “Yeah?”His father’s voice was sharp. “I assume you’re still alive.”Leon smirked. “Disappointed?”A pause. Then, “Get to the estate. Now.”The line went dead.Leon exhaled through his nose, tossing his phone onto his lap. “That’s never a good sign.”I lean
By the next morning, the fallout had already begun.Leon and I sat in his penthouse, reviewing the reports pouring in from our contacts. Calloway’s operation had taken a major hit—his Russian allies were furious, his supply lines were compromised, and his reputation was crumbling.But we both knew it wasn’t over.Calloway wouldn’t take this loss lying down.Leon’s fingers drummed against the table, his jaw tight. “He’ll retaliate.”I nodded. “It’s just a matter of when.”Leon’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then answered with a clipped, “What?”A pause.Then his expression darkened.“When?” he demanded.Another pause.“Where is she now?”I sat up straighter, sensing the shift in his energy.Then Leon cursed under his breath and ended the call.“What happened?” I asked.He stood, already grabbing his keys. “Alexa was taken.”My blood ran cold. “By Calloway?”Leon’s jaw clenched. “Looks like it.”I shot up from my seat. “Then let’s go get her.”Alexa’s location was traced to a
The night was deceptively peaceful. The city lights stretched far beyond the penthouse windows, illuminating a world that had no idea of the chaos brewing beneath the surface.Leon stood by the window, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw clenched in quiet contemplation. He hadn’t said much since our meeting at the club.I knew why.We had allies now, but it wasn’t enough.We needed more.“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” I said, stepping closer.Leon’s fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. “There’s a war coming, Margarette. And I don’t know if I can keep you safe through it.”I scoffed. “You’re still underestimating me?”His jaw ticked. “No. I just—” He exhaled sharply, turning to face me. “I can’t lose you.”The words hit harder than they should have.I swallowed, pushing down the sudden rush of emotion. “Then don’t.”Leon studied me for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. Then, before I could react, he pulled me flush against him, his lips capturing mine
Leon didn’t speak much after that. The drive back was filled with nothing but the hum of the tires on the road and the unspoken weight between us. I wanted to say something—anything—to make him look at me the way he used to. But I knew this wasn’t the time.When we pulled into the underground parking lot of our penthouse, Leon shut off the engine and exhaled through his nose. His hands remained on the wheel, knuckles white.I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Leon—”He turned to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You just declared war on your father, Margarette.”I swallowed. “You think I don’t know that?”“That’s the problem.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “This isn’t just about exposing his corruption. Harlan Westwood isn’t the kind of man who forgives betrayal. And you just put a target on your back.”I clenched my jaw. “I’ve had a target on my back ever since I decided to take back what’s mine.”Leon let out a humorless laugh. “And you think he’s just going to let you?”I reac
Dorian was right. My father wasn’t sitting idle. He was moving his pieces, fortifying his position before I could strike.But he underestimated me.By morning, I was already on the phone, making calls, pulling in every favor I had left. I wasn’t just going to fight him—I was going to destroy him.Leon watched me from across the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and despite the weight of everything we were up against, he looked completely composed.It irritated me.“Do you ever worry?” I muttered, ending a call and tossing my phone on the counter.Leon smirked. “Constantly.”I gave him a look. “You don’t seem worried.”He set his mug down and closed the distance between us. “Because I don’t show it the way you do.”I exhaled. “I feel like we’re on the edge of something big. Like we’re one wrong move away from losing everything.”Leon tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Margarette.” His
We had expected my father to retaliate, but I knew he wouldn’t be careless. No, he’d take his time. He’d make sure his counterattack hurt.Which meant we had to strike first.Leon was already making calls before I even had to say anything. His contacts, his men—every piece of leverage we had was being mobilized.Victor paced across the penthouse, his expression tense. “Margarette, I don’t think you understand how much you just provoked him.”I crossed my arms. “Oh, I understand, Victor. That’s the point.”Leon smirked at my words, but his eyes were sharp as he cut in. “We need to draw him out. He’s not going to sit back and lick his wounds. He’s going to come for you.”Victor sighed. “And you’re just waiting for that to happen?”I walked over to the window, watching the city below. “No.” My voice was calm. “We’re leading him exactly where we want.”Victor ran a hand through his hair. “And where is that, exactly?”Leon leaned against the counter, his voice casual but firm. “A place whe
The days that followed were a whirlwind of chaos.My father’s downfall was splashed across every news outlet. Financial crimes, money laundering, illegal dealings—his empire was collapsing, and with it, his reputation. His allies abandoned him one by one, choosing self-preservation over loyalty.But he wasn’t the kind of man to go down without a fight.That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I received the message.A single text.Suite 1103. One last talk. Come alone.Leon was furious. “Absolutely not.”I expected that reaction. I also knew there was no changing my mind.“Leon, this is my fight. My ending to write.”His eyes darkened. “He’s cornered, Margarette. That makes him more dangerous than ever.”I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I’ll be fine.”He exhaled sharply. “I don’t trust him.”I smiled softly. “Good. Neither do I.”The Last Conversation—AgainSuite 1103 was dimly lit when I walked in. My father sat by the window, a drink in his hand, staring out at the city he once rule
The days turned into weeks, and for the first time in a long time, my life wasn’t consumed by revenge or survival. It was strange, almost unsettling, to wake up without the weight of the past pressing down on me.But Leon made it easier.We spent our days in a quiet rhythm—mornings wrapped in each other, afternoons exploring parts of the city I had never truly appreciated, and evenings spent talking about everything and nothing.One afternoon, Leon surprised me with a drive outside the city. The road stretched ahead of us, winding through rolling green hills and open fields.I turned to him, curious. “Where are we going?”He glanced at me with a smirk. “You’ll see.”After about an hour, we pulled up to a secluded property. A modern house with wide glass windows sat on a hill, overlooking a lake. The air smelled of fresh grass and wildflowers, and the only sound was the distant chirping of birds.I stepped out of the car, taking in the view. “Leon… what is this place?”He walked up bes
The rain was falling again.It always did on days like this—days that felt like endings.I stood on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the stormy waters of Anacortes, my coat pulled tightly around me, the hood shielding my face from the wind that carried the scent of salt and something older—something like goodbye.Leon stood behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to feel him there. His presence was familiar now, carved into my skin like muscle memory. He’d been my gravity, my storm, my salvation, and my ruin—sometimes all at once.“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I whispered, more to the wind than to him.He didn’t answer right away. His silence was as heavy as the stormclouds above us.“I wanted to fix everything for you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, like it had been dragged across a battlefield. “I wanted to give you a life that didn’t hurt.”I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest pulsed with every beat of my heart. “You did,” I said. “For a while, you did.”I heard the crunch
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not the same person I was before,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering. “And I’m not walking away this time.”The man’s eyes flickered with a moment of doubt, just enough for me to catch. And then, before I could even register what had happened, Leon moved.Faster than I could blink, Leon was in front of me, his hand grabbing the gun and twisting it out of the man’s grasp. The force of it sent the man stumbling back, but he didn’t go down easily. His bodyguards rushed in, but Leon was already a step ahead, disarming one of them with a swift, calculated move.I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what I was witnessing. Leon—always so calm, always so careful—was ruthless. He was like a force of nature, determined to protect me at all costs.But the fight wasn’t over yet. The man recovered, his eyes burning with rage. “You really think you’ve won?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a game you can’t ev
The sound of boots drew closer, pounding the floor with an urgency that echoed through the cavernous halls of the estate. My heart raced as the reality of what I had just heard crashed into me like a tidal wave. The man who had once been a part of my life—my family’s betrayer, the one who had orchestrated their deaths—stood there, calmly, as if this was just another night for him.Leon’s grip on my hand tightened, but I didn’t let him pull me away. I could feel the air thickening with tension, the walls pressing in as everything I thought I knew began to crumble.The intruders were only moments away.The man—he—smirked, watching us. “You think this will end well? You’ve no idea what you’re up against. My people are everywhere.”I took a step forward, ignoring Leon’s silent plea to retreat. “You killed them. And you thought I would be the next one to fall in line?” My voice was a whisper, but it held a power I hadn’t realized I had. “You were wrong.”The man’s face faltered, just for a
Next Morning at the Estate Archives. The basement was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and secrets. Old boxes lined the walls, labeled in my father’s tidy script. Financial records. Land deeds. Correspondence.Leon sifted through a crate of documents while I dug through another.Then something caught my eye.A faded folder labeled: Project Thornfield.I opened it slowly.Inside were blueprints—plans for development across coastal land that was supposed to be protected forest. There were signatures from multiple board members, including names I recognized.And then, one I didn’t.N. Vallis.Leon leaned over. “You know that name?”I shook my head. “No. But look here—he signed off on the project two weeks before my parents died.”Leon pulled out his phone. “I’ll run a background check.”I kept flipping through the documents—and found something that made my blood run cold.An aerial photo.Of the cliffside. Our property.With a giant red X drawn over the coordinates where my p
THREE WEEKS LATER...The investigation moved faster than I’d expected. With the board fully on our side now, the paper trail unraveled like a thread pulled from an old sweater—each piece of evidence exposing the next. Shell companies. Forged contracts. Witnesses who had remained silent out of fear but were finally coming forward.Still, no one had seen him since the day of the summit. He had vanished without a trace. No flights. No offshore activity. No messages. It was like he’d disappeared into smoke.But Dorian didn’t believe in ghosts. “He’s hiding,” he said as he handed me a thick folder. “And this—this will force him out.”I flipped through the documents. Bank records. A property registered under an alias. Hidden deep in the woods outside of Anacortes. I felt my stomach twist.Leon stepped up behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder. “Let’s pay him a visit.”The cabin was barely more than a shadow tucked between trees. No lights. No car. Just silence and the thrum of insects in t
Sunlight crept cautiously through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden slivers across the hardwood floor of the safe house bedroom. I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders and the journal heavy in my lap. The cover was cracked, worn with age and secrets. My fingers hovered over the first page for what felt like an eternity.Leon was nearby—he hadn’t slept much, either. He stood at the window with a mug of black coffee, watching the world outside with quiet alertness. When I finally opened the journal, he turned slightly but didn’t speak. He knew I needed silence for this.The first entry was dated nearly two decades ago.July 14th. We signed the contract today. Two families, one future. The woman from Delmar Holdings is more cunning than I expected. She knows we’re desperate—and she used it. I told Mariana to trust me. That this was the only way. God help me, I hope I’m right.My breath hitched. Mariana—that was my mother’s name.I flipped thro
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”