CHAPTER 4

Chapter 4: The Lie

The leather folder felt heavy in my hands. I should’ve just put it back. I should’ve kept believing the lie. But there was a photo peeking out from the back, and I couldn't stop myself.

I pulled it out. My stomach dropped.

It was John. He wasn’t in some other city living large on fifty grand. He was lying in a shallow trench on the Silas estate, covered in dirt. His eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. The timestamp at the bottom of the photo hit me like a physical blow: it was taken the day after my father sold me.

The wire transfer. The payout. It was all a f**king setup.

A weird, cracking sound came out of my throat. It wasn't even a scream. It just sounded like something inside me had finally snapped.

The girl who loved John died right there. The girl who kept hoping for a rescue was buried in that trench with him. I didn't even cry. My eyes just felt dry and cold. My "protector" was the one who pulled the trigger.

The curtain moved. Abram stepped in, his shadow covering me. He didn't even look at the photo. He didn't need to. He knew exactly what I was holding.

"You weren't supposed to see that yet," he said. He sounded so casual about it, like he was talking about the weather.

I looked up at him. This was the guy who brushed my hair and "defended" me from his sister. He stood there, smelling like expensive scotch and woodsmoke, just waiting for me to lose it. He probably expected me to scream or try to hit him so he could pin my wrists and tell me he did it for "us."

I didn't move. I just let the photo slip through my fingers and hit the floor.

"Elara?" He stepped closer, looking confused. He reached out to touch my face. "Say something. Scream at me. Do something."

I did something, alright. I stepped right into his space. I reached up, my hands shaking just a little, and grabbed the back of his neck. I pulled him down.

And then I kissed him.

It tasted like betrayal. It was the biggest lie I’d ever told. But as his body went stiff with shock, I felt the power shift. He didn't know what to do. He was a hunter; he only knew how to handle things that ran away.

His arms wrapped around my waist, nearly crushing the ribs he’d probably paid to protect. He was buying it—the "submission" he’d been trying to force on me.

He pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark and messy with a mix of winning and being totally lost.

"Do you finally get it?" he whispered, his voice rough. "Do you see that you have nowhere else to go?"

I forced myself to smile. It felt like my face was made of stone, but I kept it steady.

"I was wrong to fight you, Abram," I said. My voice sounded like a stranger's. "John ran. My father sold me. You're the only one who actually stayed."

Abram took a sharp, ragged breath. He looked at me like I was a prize he’d finally won. He couldn't see the hate behind my eyes. He didn't see that I was already gone inside.

"I'll give you everything," he promised, his voice thick. "Whatever you want."

"I know," I whispered, leaning my head against his.

And then I'm going to take everything you have.