Chapter 60: Midnight Isn’t Forgiveness

The message sat on my screen like a ticking bomb.

Tomorrow. Midnight. Come alone or your sister pays the price.

I didn’t show it to anyone at first.

Not Elliot. Not Marcus. Not even Liam.

I closed my phone slowly, my fingers numb, my mind racing faster than my heart could keep up with. The room was still buzzing with low voices and movement, but suddenly it felt distant, like I was underwater.

She hadn’t threatened me.

She’d threatened her.

My sister laughed softly at something Liam said, unaware that her life had just been dragged into a game she never agreed to play.

And that was when I knew I didn’t have a choice.

I backed away quietly, slipping into the hallway, pressing my back against the wall as my knees threatened to buckle. My breaths came shallow, sharp.

She’d learned.

Learned that my sister was my weakness.

Learned that love made me predictable.

I should have told them immediately. That was the smart thing. The safe thing. The logical thing.

But logic had never survived love.

I stared at the cracked mirror on the wall, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. Her eyes were darker now. Harder. Someone who had been forced to grow claws.

“I won’t let you touch her,” I whispered to my reflection.

Footsteps approached.

I straightened instantly as Elliot appeared at the end of the hall. His gaze swept over my face, sharp, searching.

“What is it?” he asked quietly. “What aren’t you saying?”

I should have lied.

I almost did.

But the truth weighed too heavy in my chest.

“She contacted me again,” I said.

His jaw clenched. “What did she say?”

I hesitated just long enough.

And he knew.

“Don’t,” he warned softly. “Don’t say it.”

“She wants me,” I said anyway. “Alone.”

Elliot surged forward, gripping my arms. “Absolutely not.”

“She threatened my sister.”

That stopped him cold.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

“She wouldn’t dare,” he said finally, but the doubt in his voice betrayed him.

“She would,” I replied. “And she will.”

He released me slowly, running a hand through his hair, pacing once before turning back to me. “Then we don’t play her game.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snapped. “You just don’t like the ones that don’t involve sacrificing yourself.”

I met his gaze steadily. “I’m not sacrificing myself. I’m choosing her.”

That broke something in him.

Marcus appeared then, his presence filling the hallway like a storm. “What’s happening?”

“She’s meeting her,” Elliot said flatly. “Alone.”

Marcus swore under his breath. “That’s a death sentence.”

“Not if we control the variables,” I said.

They both looked at me.

“I go,” I continued. “But not unprotected. You follow at a distance. No interference unless she makes a move.”

“No,” Elliot said instantly.

“Yes,” Marcus countered. “It might be our only shot.”

Elliot turned on him. “You’re agreeing to put her in the lion’s den.”

“And you’re pretending she’s not already in it,” Marcus replied.

Silence stretched between them, thick and dangerous.

Liam joined us quietly, his eyes flicking to my face, then to Elliot’s. “She threatened my mate.”

That settled it.

“We do this my way,” Elliot said finally, voice tight with restraint. “No heroics. No improvising.”

I didn’t respond.

Because I already knew I would improvise if I had to.

Midnight came too quickly.

The location she sent was different this time an upscale hotel downtown, glass and steel gleaming against the night sky. Public enough to deter immediate violence. Private enough to hide secrets.

I dressed carefully. Dark jeans. A fitted jacket. Nothing that screamed fear.

When I walked out the door, Elliot stopped me.

He didn’t touch me.

He just looked at me like he might never see me again.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Yes,” I replied softly. “I do.”

I turned before he could stop me.

The hotel lobby was quiet, the kind of expensive silence that hummed beneath polished floors and soft lighting. She texted me a room number.

Penthouse.

Of course.

The elevator ride felt endless. Each floor chimed like a countdown.

When the doors opened, she was already waiting.

Seated elegantly by the window, legs crossed, wine glass in hand, city lights stretching endlessly behind her.

“You came,” she said, smiling. “Alone?”

“Yes,” I lied.

She studied my face carefully, then gestured for me to sit.

“You’re braver than your father,” she said lightly.

I sat anyway. “He was braver than you’ll ever be.”

Her smile sharpened. “And he died for it.”

“So will you,” I replied.

She laughed softly. “Not tonight.”

She slid the flash drive across the table. “I want immunity.”

“You don’t get that,” I said.

She leaned closer. “I want Elliot.”

My blood ran cold. “You already have his guilt.”

“I want his confession,” she corrected. “On record. Full responsibility.”

“He won’t,” I said.

“He will,” she replied calmly. “Or I send your sister the footage.”

My hands clenched under the table. “What footage?”

Her eyes gleamed.

“The warehouse,” she said. “Different angle. Different outcome.”

My heart pounded violently.

“You’re lying.”

“Check your phone.”

I didn’t need to.

I believed her.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered.

She smiled, victorious.

“Choose,” she said. “Your sister… or the man who failed your father.”

The room felt like it was closing in on me.

And for the first time, I realized

This wasn’t about power.

It was about punishment.

As I sat there frozen, my phone vibrated silently in my pocket.

A new message.

ELLIOT:

I know where you are.

And suddenly, every choice I made next would destroy someone I loved.