chapter 2

Two days before the engagement banquet, the estate felt like a tomb. Arthur was out finalizing his escape. My father was a coward, but he was a calculating one. He wouldn't run without bleeding the accounts dry first.

My hands shook as I pulled the black, encrypted flash drive from his mahogany desk drawer. Sighting the ledger, Carmen was right, The proof was here. If I possessed the true financial records, maybe I could use them. Not to save myself because I was already condemned, but to at least bargain directly with the Alpha King for Iris and Milo's lives. In our world, blood meant nothing. Leverage meant everything.

I slipped the cold plastic drive into my sweating palm and turned toward the door.

Beatrice had forced me into five-inch stiletto heels that morning. *Practice for your new life,* my stepmother had sneered, her eyes glittering with malice.

My ankles wobbled as I hurried out of the suffocating study and down the shadowed West Wing corridor.

"Kira!"

I heard my Five year-old brother Milo jumped out of his bedroom. Iris trailed behind him, chewing aggressively on her thumbnail with her oversized sweater swallowing her frail frame. They looked so incredibly small against the sprawling, opulent emptiness of the manor. So painfully vulnerable.

"Go back inside, Milo," I whispered, throwing a frantic glance over my shoulder.

Milo's innocent eyes darted to my clenched fist. "What do you have?"

"Nothing."

"Is it a game?" He grinned, the gap in his front teeth showing. "Keep away?"

"No, Milo, please. Go back to your room now."

He didn't listen. In a house devoid of warmth, any attention was an invitation. He lunged forward, grabbing at my hand. "Let me see!"

"Stop it," I hissed, trying to pry my fingers away from his without shouting.

"I want it!"

He yanked hard. The flash drive popped out of my grip. As I lunged to catch it, the stilettos betrayed me. My ankle twisted with a sharp spike of pain.

I stumbled forward, rounding the corner past the grand staircase at full speed, braced for the painful impact of the marble floor.

I didn't hit the floor, instead I crashed directly into a wall of solid of unyielding muscle.

Large hands gripped my arms, steadying me with a bruising and inescapable force. The scent of cedar, cold rain, and raw power flooded my senses, suffocating the stale air of my father's house. The flash drive skittered across the marble floor with a loud click.

I looked up, my breath stalling in my throat.

Stormy gray eyes stared back down at me. They were piercing, dead, and entirely focused.

It was him

Silas Thorne.

He wasn't supposed to arrive until Friday. He wore a dark, meticulously tailored coat that broadened an already massive frame, wrapping him in an aura of pure menace. In his right hand, a heavy ebony cane rested against the floor, but there was no weakness in his stance. He stood like a king surveying a conquered battlefield.

Next to him lounged a younger man with the same dark, harsh features but a cruel, arrogant smirk. Matteo , Silas's volatile younger brother. He radiated a restless, dangerous edge, a predator itching for an excuse to strike.

"Well, well," Matteo mocked, his dark eyes raking over me like a piece of meat. "The sacrificial bride."

Silas didn't blink. He just watched my chest heave as I gasped for air, his face was an impenetrable mask. "You are running." His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the floorboards.

"No," I breathed out, my heart thrashing wildly. "I just wanted to_"

"Get away from her!" Milo yelled.

Before I could grab him, Milo charged forward with his tiny fists as he swung wildly, fueled by a childish bravado. He punched Silas's left leg striking right where a metallic Silver-Rot scar was hidden beneath his dark trousers.

Silas went completely and terrifyingly still.

Matteo moved in a deadly blur. His hand snapped to the heavy Glock holstered at his waist. "You little brat_"

Silas didn't even look at his brother. He simply gave a lazy, dismissive flick of his wrist.

Matteo froze instantly. His hand dropped from the weapon, jaw clenching, but he didn't dare disobey.

Silas looked down at Milo. Moving with a fluid grace that defied the cane in his other hand, he lifted one palm and caught both of Milo's small fists in a single, smooth grip. He didn't crush the boy, he just locked him in place with terrifying ease. His stormy eyes shifted back to mine, pinning me.

"Let him go," I said, my voice trembling. "Please. He is just a kid. He doesn't know better."

Silas released Milo's hands, letting them drop.

"Iris," I commanded, forcing my tone to hold steady as I refused to break eye contact with Silas. "Take Milo upstairs. Now."

Iris grabbed Milo's hand, her eyes wide with terror, but kept dragging him up the sweeping staircase. Neither of the men made a move to stop them.

I forced my chin up, playing the only card I had. "You are early."

"I am," Silas agreed, his tone deceptively mild.

"My father is not home."

"I didn't come for your father."

Matteo chuckled, a dry, nasty sound that scraped against my nerves. "We came to make sure you didn't bolt. Seems we caught you right in the act."

"I wasn't bolting." I snapped at Matteo, refusing to cower.

"Then what were you doing?" Matteo challenged, taking a step forward.

My stomach plummeted into an icy bottomless pit.

The flash drive.

I glanced down searching for it with my eye, and found it sitting dangerously close to Silas's polished leather shoe. I took a hesitant step toward it. "I dropped something."

Silas shifted his weight, leaning slightly on the silver handled cane. His shoe slid over the drive with deliberate slowness, covering it entirely.

I stopped, My blood running cold.

He watched my face, reading the sheer, visceral panic I couldn't mask. A muscle feathered along his sharp, uncompromising jawline.

"Did you drop this?" Silas asked smoothly.

"Yes. It is mine."

"Is it?" Silas kept his heavy shoe planted firm. "It looks like it belongs to Arthur."

My throat closed. "It is just a school project. For Iris." I said inaudibly

Matteo snorted, shaking his head. "Right. And I am the tooth fairy. Do we look like idiots, principessa?"

Silas didn't smile, instead he loomed over me. "You were running from your father's study."

"I was playing with my brother."

"In five inch heels."

"Yes."

"You are a terrible liar, Kira."

Checkmate.

He knew. He looked right through the fragile armor of my bravado, seeing the desperate girl beneath it . He knew exactly what I was doing and the devastating secrets housed on that drive.

Silas bent down, his movements calculated and smooth despite his scarred leg. He picked up the flash drive with long, calloused fingers. He didn't even bother to inspect it as slipped it into the inner breast pocket of his coat.

"Give it back," I demanded, a raw edge of hysteria bleeding into my voice. The words slipped out before any survival instincts could stop them because that was my only weapon, and if I let him have it, then it's gone.

Matteo stepped into my personal space, his eyes flashing. "Watch your tone woman."

"It's fine, Matteo." Silas said softly. The quiet authority in his voice was far deadlier than his brother's rage. He stepped closer to me, towering so high I had to tilt my head back just to meet his gaze.

"You have no use for this," Silas said.

"You don't know what it is."

"I know exactly what it is. And you were foolish to take it."

"I needed leverage." My chest heaved.

"Leverage against me?"

"For my brother and sister. To make sure you don't kill them."

The dead, empty look in his eyes shifted, and a dark spark ignited in his eyes . "I don't kill children."

"You kill everyone."

"I kill men who steal from me."

I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of defeat coating my tongue. "Then you have what you want now. You have the drive. You have his ledgers. You don't need me."

"I made a deal," Silas said, his voice flat, devoid of any ounce of mercy. "I keep my deals."

"I am just a distraction to him!" I shouted, the fear spilling over into agonizing clarity. "He traded me to you so he could run!"

"I know."

The simple, two word answer sucked all the oxygen out of my lungs.

"You know?" I breathed, stunned. "And you are letting him?"

"Arthur will not get far," Silas said. He adjusted his grip on the cane, then rings on his fingers catching the dim light. "But that is my business. Your business is leaving with me."

"I am not going anywhere with you."

Silas leaned down. The scent of danger and dark promises wrapped around my throat.

"You are coming to the Citadel. Today."

"The deal was Friday."

"I changed my mind." Silas straightened up, his towering frame casting a long shadow over me. "Matteo, get her bags."

"Wait," I said, backing away on trembling legs. "I need to say goodbye to my sister. I need to talk to Carmen."

"Matteo," Silas repeated, not even acknowledging my plea.

Matteo brushed past me with a cruel grin, taking the stairs two at a time.

"Stop him!" I pleaded, grabbing Silas's arm, but instead It felt like grabbing a block of solid granite. "Please, just give me ten minutes."

"No."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because you belong to me now," Silas said, his stormy eyes locking onto mine, stripping away the illusion that I had ever possessed a choice. My father had used me as a pawn to buy time. But to Silas Thorne, I wasn't a pawn anymore. I was a prize to be paid and used. "And we are leaving right this moment."