LOGINKAMARAThe hot chocolate in my hand had gone stone cold, the sweet scent now cloying and nauseating. I stared at Kaela, trying to reconcile the Jace I knew with the man she was describing. "He knew," I whispered. “All those years he was by my side, he knew you were breathing. He knew where you were."Kaela leaned against a rusted filing cabinet, crossing her arms. “Don’t mistake his silence for malice, Kamara. Jace was loyal to a fault—but not to us. He was loyal to Richard. Our father owned him long before you ever felt safe with him.""But you said you met him," I pressed, my heart aching with a fresh kind of jealousy I didn't want to admit to. "How? When?""Richard and Matthias didn’t just trade me and forget I existed," Kaela said, her eyes darkening. "They had meetings. High-stakes check-ins to monitor the 'asset.' Richard would bring Jace along as his primary muscle. I’d be brought out like a prized hound to show Matthias I was still useful, still healthy. I’d look at Jace acro
KAMARAThe room was a hollowed-out shell of an executive suite, lit by the flickering glow of a single camping lantern and the distant, jagged lights of the harbor. In the center, four rusty metal chairs were arranged in a tight circle."Sit," Kaela said.I sank into one of the chairs, my legs feeling like they were made of water. Across from me, Elijah sat with his back straight, his eyes darting between Silas and Kaela.She made her way into the small, makeshift kitchenette in the corner and returned a moment later carrying three steaming mugs."It’s not the gourmet espresso you’re used to at the estate," she said, her voice softening as she handed me a cup. "But it’s good"I wrapped my trembling hands around the mug, using the heat to anchor myself to reality.She offered a mug to Elijah. He stared at the liquid with a look of clear rejection."I'm so happy," Kaela whispered, a warm, genuine smile breaking through her hardened exterior for the first time. "After all these years, I’
KAMARAThe shipyard district didn't just feel like another part of the city; it felt like another dimension. We had long since abandoned the SUV, parked five blocks back behind a row of rusted shipping containers that looked like they hadn't been moved since the seventies. Silas led the way, his hand never straying far from the hem of his jacket.He guided us into a narrow artery of the city known as the "Glass Graveyard." It was a stretch of residential high-rises that had been gutted by a massive fire years ago and never rebuilt.The street was teeming with a different kind of life. People lived here in the hollowed-out shells of apartments, burning trash in iron drums for heat. As we walked, I could feel the eyes, thousands of them, peering from the darkness of the ruined balconies.They looked at me with a terrifying mixture of greed and bone-deep fear. Suddenly, an older man stepped into our path. I flinched, expecting a threat, but he didn't reach for a weapon. Instead, he dippe
KamaraI climbed back into the SUV, the air inside feeling thin and recycled. Elijah didn’t look at me, but I could feel his gaze tracing the red rims of my eyes in the rearview mirror. Silas was already in the passenger seat, his posture relaxed, yet his eyes were constantly scanning the dark perimeter of the gas station. The image of him at that back door, hunched over a burner phone kept replaying itself in my mind."We’re moving," Silas said, his voice dropping into that familiar, authoritative bass. "Elijah, take the next exit. We’re heading to a property near the old shipyard. It’s off the grid. No cameras, no paper trail. I’ve got a contact there who can give us the layout of Matthias’s main estate.""And who is this contact?" Elijah asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. "One of your Mann family cleaners? Or someone more... independent?""Someone who owes me a life," Silas replied shortly. "That’s all you need to know."I sat in the back, the silence of the car pressing a
JACEI was lost somewhere in the red canyons of my own skin, drowning in the hot, copper tide of my own lungs. Every breath felt like inhaling broken glass. My left eye was swollen shut, a curtain of bruised purple that blocked out half the world, and my ribs, I could feel the jagged ends of them grating against each other with every gasp.I was chained to a rusted industrial pipe, my feet barely touching the grease-stained floor of the basement. Across from me, Matthias sat in an armchair he must have had brought down specifically for this performanceHe looked pristine. Not a speck of blood on his silk lapels. He sipped from a crystal glass, the ice clinking with maddening cheerfulness."You’re dying, Jace," Matthias said, his voice a smooth, cultured purr that felt like a razor across my nerves. "I can see the light receding. It’s a slow leak. Quite poetic, really. The martyr who bleeds out in silence."I tried to spit at him, but all that came out was a thick, dark glob of bile th
KAMARAWe were miles out of town, parked in the shadows of a defunct car wash. Elijah was still seated in the driver's seat, his hands still white-knuckled on the wheel, while I paced outside clutching my phone tightly in my hand.Twenty minutes passed before a black sedan coasted into the lot and Silas stepped out, looking tense. His eyes scanned the perimeter then landed on me."Kamara, what the heck is this?" Silas began. "You sounded like the world was ending with that text."He stopped mid-stride as his gaze shifted from me to the SUV, landing squarely on Elijah Maldon. In a heartbeat, Silas’s hand was at the small of his back, his posture shifting into a defensive crouch."Silas, no!" I lunged forward, putting myself between him and the car. "No, no, no. Put it down. Elijah is with us.""Are you insane?" Silas growled, his eyes never leaving the car. "That’s a Maldon. Have you so quickly forgotten what one of them did to your family? Kamara, move. Is he making you do this? Is he
Kamara’s POVIt was well past three in the afternoon and still no sign of him.Was he deliberately avoiding me… or was I reading into things the way I always did?I shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on the cup of ice cream in my hands, the once solid, now a sad, melted swirl I kept stirrin
Kamara pov.At first it started off like a blurry haze, but the moment his hands snaked their way around my waist in that solid, unyielding grip, I knew I’d crossed a line.One I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.The first press of his mouth against mine was firm, like he’d already made a decision and
Jace’s POV“I can’t believe this,” she said, breathless. “I really can’t.”She sat back down, lifting her glass again without thinking. She refilled it.I watched, silent.“It’s a scam,” she decided, laughing. “Being grown. Total scam.”She took another sip.Then another.At some point, she pushed
Kamara’s pov. All afternoon I tried to not think of anything but it seemed even more impossible in the empty beach house. Thirty minutes ago. I picked up my phone at the sound of a notification and instantly regretted it the moment I opened it. More comments, so much hate and most from friends re







