FAZER LOGINConrad As Susanna and I went downstairs and stepped into the parking lot, the men of Bonafide turned toward me almost in unison. Earlier in the day, that sight of them waiting on me had filled me with a heady rush. It had felt like victory over Mother but now, it made my skin crawl. I slowed my steps without meaning to, my gaze sweeping over their faces. Men who had watched me grow up. Men who had once bowed their heads to my mother’s whims without question. My jaw tightened as an ugly thought crept in. Which of them had helped Mother sell that lie about the lake house? Which of them would have turned on me in a heartbeat if I had walked straight into her trap and made a fool of myself? “Go home,” I said flatly. “Return to my house. All of you. Await further instructions.” There was a flicker of surprise among them that was quickly buried under obedience. A few exchanged glances, but no one questioned me. One by one, they nodded, murmured assent, and began dispersing across the
ConradI nursed the bottle like it was the only thing keeping my hands from doing something worse.The cognac burned bitterly on the way down, but it didn’t come close to touching the fury coiled tight in my chest. My mother had done it again. She had fooled me again, this time by trying to pull me in with words she knew I had been starving for my entire life.I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the glass neck of the bottle.I wasn’t just angry at her. That part of my anger was old and familiar; it was even dull in comparison to what I truly felt. What made my blood boil was the realization of how close I had come to abandoning everything my caution just because Mother had said she was proud of me. Because she had sounded… like a mother. A real one. I let out a harsh laugh and took another long pull straight from the bottle.She had said that she was proud of me. I had wanted those words so badly I had almost fumbled my hard earned power.If Susanna hadn’t been there, I
MarcelineAs I spoke, I scrambled desperately for the right words, the right emotional pressure points. Conrad had always wanted my acknowledgment and approval, hadn't he?“I’ve been fighting alone for so long,” I said, my voice softening further. “Taking care of everything myself. It’s all I’ve ever known.” I let out a small, broken laugh. “So when you tried to take care of me… it looked like a trap. I panicked.”“But I’ve thought it over,” I said. “Really thought about it. And I see now how hasty I was.” I inhaled, steadying myself. “I trust you, Conrad. I do.”Liam’s gaze burned into me.“I’ll go wherever you want me to go,” I added quickly. “Wherever you think is best. That’s how much I trust you.” I hesitated, then pressed the blade deeper. “I’m proud of you for looking out for me.” The words tasted like ash.Silence stretched across the line for too long. My heart began to pound harder, panic creeping up my spine. Had I gone too far? Not far enough? Had Conrad seen through my li
Marceline I stared at the phone in my hand as if it was the one that had betrayed me. My mouth hung open, my lips trembling, horror and devastation crashing through me in a sickening wave as Hugo’s refusal echoed in my ears. For a split second, I couldn’t even breathe. Hugo, the man who had jumped at my voice like a trained dog, had just… said no. A thousand chaotic questions boiled up at once. When did Susanna get out of the hospital? How long has she been with my men? How many of them have already turned? How long have they been planning this behind my back? But the questions died almost as soon as they formed because Liam was still there, just a few feet away. And I had already wasted two of my three chances. My survival instincts rose up violently, shoving Susanna, Conrad, Bonafide, all of it, into the farthest corners of my mind. None of that mattered if I didn’t live through the next few minutes. Schemes were useless when you were bleeding in the dirt with
AbigailA girl, unmistakably young, was throwing herself into his arms. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, maybe sixteen. Her movement looked impulsive, her arms coming up around his shoulders.Alexander reacted instantly. He pushed her away from himself, his expression affronted, his posture stiff with surprise. The girl wasn’t deterred. She grabbed his hand, her fingers curling around his as she said something I couldn’t quite hear. Whatever it was, it softened him, just a little, enough that the edge in his expression dulled.I stepped into the room, and my entrance didn’t escape either of them. Both Alexander and the girl turned to look at me.I gave Alexander a small smile. “Hey.”The effect was immediate. He turned toward me fully, that guarded reserve he wore around most people slipping. He released the girl’s hand and started toward me, his smile genuine, his eyes searching my face.“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked, concern threading through his voice.Before I coul
Abigail The gravel crunched softly under my shoes as I put distance between myself and the place where I had left Marceline with Liam. Each step felt hurried, like if I slowed down even a fraction, the weight of this meeting would crash down on me all at once. I forced myself not to think about what would happen next.Marceline was no saint. This was a truth that I undeniably knew. It had been carved into me by her countless acts of manipulation, cruelty, and carefully dressed violence. Leaving her unharmed and breathing when she had been right there, helpless, in my grasp, had not been easy. It had taken everything in me not to finish it. Not to close my fingers around her throat and squeeze until the world went quiet.But I wasn’t her, I didn't do what she did, and that mattered to me. I had said it out loud to her, and I repeated it silently now, like a mantra. I was not Marceline. I would not stoop to her level. I would not coat my hands with blood just because the temptation w







