Chapter 10

Isabella's POV

​The light is too much. It’s a white wall. My eyes burn.

​Behind me, the lighthouse makes a low, hungry sound. Wood snapping. Heat on my neck.

​Liam is on the ground. He’s bleeding. The red on his shoulder looks black under the spotlight. He’s trying to reach my foot.

​"Isabella," he says. His voice is a wreck. "Down. Get down."

​I don't. I point Julian’s gun at the light. The metal is cold. My hand is steady, which is strange. I feel nothing. Just the wind.

​The helicopter is loud. A black shadow against the smoke. Vane’s logo is right there. A gold 'V' mocking the fire.

​"Put it down, Isabella!"

​My father’s voice. Loudspeaker. It vibrates in my teeth.

​"Isabella!" Liam again. He’s coughing.

​I look at the chopper. The door is open. Arthur is leaning out. He’s wearing a headset. He looks like he’s in a boardroom, not a gale.

​"The stone," Arthur shouts. "Show it to me."

​I reach into my coat. The sapphire is there. I hold it up. The blue is dull in the white glare.

​"Is it the real one this time?" Arthur calls. He sounds bored. "Or did you find more glass in the cellar?"

​"Does it matter?" I say.

​The wind swallows my voice. I have to scream it.

​"Does it matter, Arthur? You're losing. The stocks. The news. You’re done."

​"I’m never done," he says. The loudspeaker crackles. "Give me the stone. I’ll clear the kid. I’ll pull the lawyers."

​"Sign the immunity," I say.

​"Give me the stone first."

​"No."

​Liam grabs my ankle. His grip is tight. Too tight.

​"Isabella, don't," he says. "He’ll just... he’ll kill us anyway."

​"He needs the codes," I say. I don't look at Liam. I look at the man in the sky. "He’s a businessman. He won't kill the only person who knows the shift."

​"I don't have all night," Arthur says.

​The helicopter hovers lower. The downdraft is a physical blow. It smells like kerosene and salt.

​"Sign it," I scream. "Now. Or it goes in the fire."

​I hold the sapphire over the edge of the burning lighthouse base. The flames are reaching. The stone is getting warm in my hand.

​Arthur is talking to someone behind him. I see his hand move.

​Liam’s phone pings. It’s a sharp, digital sound.

​Liam looks at it. He’s shaking.

​"It’s signed," Liam says. He looks up at me. "He actually signed it."

​"Good."

​I don't drop the stone. I put the gun in my waistband.

​"Isabella, what are you doing?" Liam asks.

​I look at the helicopter. The ladder is dropping. A rope ladder. It hits the rocks with a thud.

​"Go, Liam," I say. "Take your mother. Go to the boat."

​"Not without you."

​"Go."

​I step toward the ladder.

​"Arthur!" I yell. "I’m coming up! But they leave now! No tail! No cops!"

​"Agreed," Arthur says.

​I look at Liam one last time. He’s staring at me. He looks like he doesn't know who I am. He’s right. I don't know either.

​I grab the first rung. The rope is rough.

​"Wait," Liam says. He’s standing now. He’s swaying. "The stone. You still have it."

​I look at him. I look at the helicopter.

​I reach into my pocket. I pull out a small, heavy object. I toss it to Liam.

​He catches it. It’s not the sapphire. It’s a piece of charred wood from the cellar.

​The real stone is still in my palm.

​"Tell the press I'm dead," I say.

​I start to climb. The chopper begins to rise before I’m even halfway up. My feet dangle over the fire.

​The ladder pulls me into the dark.

​The cabin is pressurized. It’s too quiet after the wind. It smells like expensive leather and old coffee.

​I pull myself inside. My knees hit the metal floor. My hands are black with soot. I look at the carpet. White wool. I’m staining it.

​Arthur doesn't look at me. He’s looking at his watch.

​"Twenty minutes late," he says.

​He taps a screen on the armrest. The door slides shut. The noise of the rotors fades to a hum.

​"The stone," he says.

​I stand up. My legs feel like they’re made of wet paper. I don't move. I stay near the door.

​"The immunity," I say. "I want to see the confirmation. The filing."

​Arthur sighs. He looks tired. "You saw the ping, Isabella. I don't play games with signatures. It’s messy."

​"You play games with everything else."

​He looks at me then. Truly looks. His eyes are cold. No relief. No anger. Just a checklist.

​"You look like a gutter rat," he says. "The Sterling boy. Did he do that to you? Or did you do it to yourself?"

​"He didn't do anything."

​"He survived. That’s enough of a crime."

​Arthur holds out his hand. "The stone. Now. I have a board meeting in three hours. I need the encryption live before the markets open in Tokyo."

​I reach into my pocket. I feel the sapphire. It’s hot from the fire.

​"I want Catherine safe," I say.

​"She’s on the island. She has a boat. She has a son. They’re fine."

​"Promise me."

​Arthur laughs. It’s a dry sound. "Promises are for people who can't afford lawyers. Give me the stone, Isabella. Don't make me have them search you. It’s undignified."

​I pull it out. I hold it between two fingers.

​The blue is deep. Dark. Like the water we just left.

​Arthur reaches for it. His fingers are dry. He grabs it. He holds it up to the cabin light.

​"Beautiful," he whispers. "The Sterling heart. Finally stopped beating."

​He goes to a small safe in the wall. He drops it in.

​"Sit down," he says. "There’s water in the fridge. Clean your face."

​I sit. The leather is soft. It feels wrong.

​"Where are we going?"

​"The city. We have a lot of work to do. The press thinks you’re a victim. We’re going to play that."

​"I told Liam to tell them I'm dead."

​Arthur stops. He turns around.

​"You did what?"

​"He’s going to tell them the lighthouse took me. It’s easier."

​Arthur stares at me. Then he smiles. It’s the first real thing I’ve seen on his face all night.

​"Smart," he says. "A ghost is easier to manage than a daughter. We’ll keep you in the penthouse. Total seclusion. Until the merger is finalized."

​"I’m not staying in the penthouse."

​"You’ll stay where I tell you."

​I look out the window. The island is gone. Just black.

​"The signatures," I say. "They’re permanent?"

​"As permanent as anything is."

​I lean back. I close my eyes.

​I think about the piece of wood I threw to Liam. I think about the look on his face.

​He thinks I’m a traitor. Or a martyr.

​I don't know which is worse.

​I feel the helicopter tilt. We’re turning south.

​"Isabella," Arthur says.

​I don't open my eyes.

​"The codes. The shift you mentioned. The sequence."

​"I’ll give it to you when we land."

​"Give it to me now."

​"No."

​Arthur doesn't push. He’s got the stone. He thinks he has time.

​He doesn't know.

​He doesn't know that I didn't just switch the stone.

​I switched the logic.

​The sapphire is the key. But I changed the lock while I was in the cellar.

​The encryption doesn't lead to the money anymore.

​It leads to a mirror.

​Every time Arthur tries to use those codes, it will trigger a buy-back of Sterling stocks. Using Vane money.

​He’s going to fund his own destruction. And he’s going to use my hand to do it.

​I feel a strange surge of heat. Not the fire. Something else.

​Power.

​"You're quiet," Arthur says.

​"I'm tired."

​"Sleep then. It’s a long flight."

​I don't sleep. I count my breaths.

​I think about the red dress. I think about the salt in my hair.

​I think about the way Liam’s hand felt on my ankle.

​I’m sorry, Liam.

​But I’m not finished yet.

​The city appears. A grid of gold and white.

​We’re over the harbor now. I see the bridges. The traffic. People going to work. People who don't know the world almost ended on a rock in Maine.

​Arthur is on the phone. He’s talking to the CEO of a bank. He’s sounding charming.

​"Yes, she’s safe," he says. "A terrible ordeal. But she’s a Vane. She’s strong."

​He winks at me.

​I want to throw up.

​We reach the Vane Tower. The helipad is ready. Men in suits are waiting.

​The landing is a light bump.

​The door opens. The city air is cold. It smells like metal and exhaust.

​Arthur stands up. He adjusts his tie. He looks perfect.

​"Stay behind me," he says. "Keep your head down."

​I get out. The wind from the rotors is still hot.

​I walk across the roof.

​I see the elevator. The silver doors.

​I think about the cellar. I think about the dark water.

​I look at Arthur’s back.

​He thinks he won.

​He thinks I’m the prize.

​But a prize is a dead thing.

​And I’m very much alive.

​I reach into my waistband. The gun is gone—I must have dropped it when I climbed the ladder.

​It doesn't matter.

​I have the codes.

​I follow him into the elevator.

​The doors shut.

​The descent begins.

​Arthur looks at his reflection in the gold panels. He fixes his hair.

​"Eight o'clock, Isabella. Don't be late."

​"I won't be late, Father."

​The elevator dings.

​The lobby is full of light.

​I walk out.

​I see the cameras. The flashes.

​Arthur puts an arm around my shoulder. He’s heavy.

​"She’s home," he tells the reporters.

​I don't smile. I don't look at the lenses.

​I look at the floor.

​I am Isabella Vane.

​I am the survivor.

​And I am the end of this empire.

​Decision made.

​No turning back.

​I walk through the crowd.

​Every flash is a heartbeat.

​Every question is a lie.

​I am home.

​And the war is just starting.