Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Note

The medical bay still smelled of fear and antiseptic.

My mother lay sleeping again, sedated by the private doctors Damien had forced into the room. Two of his men stood guard at the door. The second syringe sat in a clear evidence bag on a side tray, the needle still capped, the liquid inside a pale, ominous yellow.

Marcus held out the note with gloved hands.

It was written on thick cream stationery in Serena’s elegant, looping script.

Lila,

You always were the sentimental one. I knew you would come running the moment you thought Mom was in danger. That is why this was never about the syringe.

The real gift is waiting at the old lake house. The place where you first sold yourself for me. Go alone. Midnight. Bring nothing and no one—especially not Damien.

If you disobey, the next video that leaks will not be about drugs. It will be about the night you spent in that motel with Victor Langley two years ago. Every filthy detail. Every sound you made. Damien will see exactly what kind of woman he married. The board will see. The world will see.

Clock is ticking, little sister.

S.

My hands shook so hard the paper blurred.

Damien read over my shoulder. The temperature around him seemed to drop.

“She’s lying,” he said flatly. “There is no other video.”

“You don’t know that.” My voice sounded thin. “Victor recorded everything. He liked insurance. Serena could have more. She always kept the worst pieces for last.”

I could already imagine it—Damien watching me on a grainy motel recording, younger, desperate, doing whatever it took to keep Serena out of prison and Mom’s bills paid. The shame sat in my stomach like broken glass.

Damien took the note from me, folded it once, and slipped it into his pocket. “You’re not going alone.”

“I have to.” I turned to face him fully. “If there’s even a chance she’s telling the truth, I can’t let that video surface. Not after everything. Not when the board is already looking for a reason to turn on you. Not when my own mother still believes I’m the family disgrace.”

His jaw flexed. “Your mother is wrong. Your sister is a liar. And I am not letting you walk into another trap.”

“Then come with me,” I said. “But stay out of sight. If she sees you, she’ll release whatever she has. I can’t risk it.”

For a long moment Damien said nothing. The war between his need to protect me and his need to destroy Serena played out across his face. Finally he exhaled, the sound rough.

“We do this my way,” he said. “Tracking device. Hidden earpiece. Two teams on the perimeter. If anything feels wrong, you say the word and I pull you out. No heroics. No more secrets.”

I nodded.

He stepped closer, hands sliding up my arms until they rested on my shoulders. The heat of his body still lingered on my skin from the storage room, a living reminder of how completely he had claimed me only minutes earlier.

“You are not going back to that lake house as the girl who took the bribe,” he murmured. “You’re going as my wife. And when this is over, your family will never speak to you that way again. I will make certain of it.”

The quiet promise in his voice made my chest ache. I leaned up and kissed him—soft, lingering, full of everything I still didn’t know how to say out loud. His mouth opened under mine, the kiss deepening until my fingers curled into his shirt and the rest of the world temporarily disappeared.

When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine.

“Midnight,” he said. “We finish this.”

The lake house looked exactly as it had the last time—dark, crooked, waiting.

I parked the borrowed car at the edge of the gravel drive and walked the rest of the way alone, the tiny tracking device sewn into the hem of my jacket and the nearly invisible earpiece nestled in my right ear. Damien’s voice came through soft and steady.

“I’m two hundred meters east with full visual. Teams are in position. You say the word.”

“Copy,” I whispered.

The front door stood open.

Inside, a single lamp burned on the same kitchen table. Serena sat in the same chair, legs crossed, a slim black folder in front of her. She looked almost relaxed, as if she hadn’t spent the last week trying to destroy my life.

“You came,” she said. “Alone. Good girl.”

I stopped several feet away. “Show me the video.”

Serena smiled and opened the folder. Inside was a single USB drive and a printed still image. The image showed me in that motel room two years ago, face turned toward the camera, expression caught somewhere between fear and resignation. Victor Langley stood behind me, one hand on my waist.

“The full recording is on the drive,” Serena said. “Every minute. Every sound. I watched it again last night. You were so obedient for him. So willing to do whatever it took.”

My stomach turned.

“Delete it,” I said. “Or I walk.”

“Delete it?” Serena laughed softly. “Oh, Lila. This isn’t a negotiation anymore. This is the end of the game.”

She tapped the USB drive with one manicured nail.

“Here’s what happens next. You are going to call Damien and tell him the marriage is over. You will sign the annulment papers I have in the car. You will transfer every asset he put in your name back to the Voss family trust. And then you will leave the city and never contact him again. In exchange, this drive is destroyed, Mom continues receiving the best care money can buy, and I don’t release the recording to every major network and the board of Voss Industries.”

I stared at her. “You would destroy your own sister completely just to win?”

“I already won,” Serena said. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

In my ear, Damien’s voice was pure ice. “She’s stalling. Something’s wrong. Get out of there. Now.”

I took one step back.

Serena’s smile widened.

“Too late,” she whispered.

The rear door of the lake house exploded inward.

Three men in black moved fast and silent. Before I could turn, a hand clamped over my mouth and a sharp sting bloomed in the side of my neck.

The last thing I heard was Damien’s voice roaring my name through the earpiece as the floor tilted and the lamp light blurred into nothing.

Then everything went black.