Chapter Eight

The sound of his voice froze me.

I knew that tone. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

Zayden’s jaw clenched. He moved silently, his gun steady, eyes locked on the door. The air felt thick , like the world was holding its breath.

“Zayden,” my father said again, his voice lower this time. “You can open the door, or I can make you.”

My heart hammered. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please, don’t open it.”

Zayden didn’t move. His eyes flicked to me for a second, then back to the door.

A slow creak echoed outside. Then ,the faint click of a gun being cocked.

Zayden swore under his breath.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured.

The door burst open before I could react. Light from a car’s headlamps cut into the dark room, outlining the tall figure in the doorway.

Gregory Hart.

Perfect suit. Cold eyes. Not a single thing out of place , except the revolver in his hand.

“Step away from my daughter.” His voice was steel.

Zayden didn’t move. “She’s not your property, Gregory.”

“You think I came here for a debate?” He stepped inside, his shoes crunching on the dusty floor. “You’ve had your fun. Now you’re going to walk away.”

“No.” The word left my mouth before I could stop it.

Gregory’s gaze snapped to me. “Vivienne.”

He said my name like it was a command.

I shook my head. “You can’t control me anymore.”

Something flickered in his eyes — surprise, maybe. Then anger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough,” I said, voice trembling. “About the deals. The trafficking. About Derek’s father. About you.”

His jaw tightened. “You don’t understand the kind of world you’re speaking about.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Not here.” His gaze turned to Zayden. “And not with him.”

“I’m not leaving him,” I said.

For a long second, no one spoke. Only the soft hum of the car engine outside filled the silence.

Gregory lowered the gun slightly, exhaling through his nose. “Vivienne, you think I did all this for myself?”

“You did it for control.”

“I did it for you.”

I froze.

Zayden’s hand brushed mine subtly ,a silent reminder to stay calm.

Gregory took another step forward. His voice softened, but it still carried that iron weight. “You were born into power, Vivienne. You think love can protect you? Love doesn’t build empires. It destroys them.”

Zayden’s voice cut through the air. “No. Greed does that.”

Gregory’s gaze snapped toward him, sharp as glass. “You think you can protect her? You can’t even protect yourself. Do you know how many men want you dead right now?”

“I’ve survived worse.”

Gregory’s lips curved slightly. “Not from me.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Then, without warning, Zayden lowered his weapon. “If you wanted me dead, I would be by now.”

Gregory tilted his head. “Maybe I came for something else.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope ,thick, heavy, sealed in red wax.

He tossed it onto the table. It landed with a dull thud.

“What’s that?” I asked.

He looked straight at me. “Proof. Something you’ll need when this all falls apart.”

Zayden didn’t take his eyes off him. “What game are you playing?”

Gregory ignored him. “Open it when you’re ready, Vivienne. Not before.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because no matter how much you hate me, I still love you.”

Then he turned, stepped outside, and disappeared into the night.

We stood there, silent. The echo of his footsteps faded into the distance until all that was left was the sound of my breathing.

Zayden finally holstered his gun. “You okay?”

I nodded weakly. “I don’t know.”

He looked at the envelope. “You shouldn’t trust anything that man gives you.”

“I don’t,” I said quietly. “But I need to know what’s inside.”

He shook his head. “It could be a trap.”

“Or a truth he’s afraid to say out loud.”

Our eyes met. Something heavy passed between us , fear, hope, and the ache of everything unsaid.

Zayden sighed, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“I learned from the best,” I said softly.

That earned a ghost of a smile from him.

He took a step closer. “If we’re opening it, we do it together.”

I nodded, reaching for the envelope. My fingers trembled as I broke the seal.

Inside were several old photographs. My father. Derek’s father. And another man I didn’t recognize.

In one of the pictures, a younger version of my mother stood beside them. Smiling.

“What is this?” I whispered.

Zayden frowned, picking up one of the photos. “That’s… Evelyn.”

“Yes.” My throat went dry. “But why is she there?”

He turned over one of the photos. Something was scribbled on the back ,a date. And beneath it, a single phrase:

“The deal began with her.”

The room spun.

“My mother…” I whispered. “She knew?”

Before Zayden could answer, a sudden sound made us both freeze , the sharp screech of tires outside.

Headlights flashed through the window again.

Zayden cursed under his breath. “They found us.”

I turned toward the window. Multiple cars. Black. No markings.

He grabbed his gun, eyes narrowing. “Vivienne, listen to me. If anything happens, you run. You don’t look back.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Vivienne....”

“No!” I grabbed his arm. “I’m done running from everything. If this ends tonight, we face it together.”

His eyes met mine , intense, full of something raw and terrifyingly real.

Then the cabin door rattled under the first hit.

“Zayden Black!” a voice shouted from outside. “You’re surrounded! Step out now!”

Zayden aimed toward the door. “They’re not police.”

My heart raced. “Then who are they?”

He took a breath, eyes hard. “People I used to work for.”

The door shook again . This time harder. The hinges groaned.

Zayden turned to me, voice low and urgent. “If they get in, you head for the back. There’s a trail through the trees. Take it straight down the hill....”

“Stop,” I said, grabbing his face with both hands. “You’re not dying tonight.”

He gave a small, broken smile. “That’s the plan.”

Then the door exploded inward, wood splintering everywhere.

A dozen armed men flooded the room.

And at the center of them.

Derek Langston.