Chapter 4

A ringtone sliced through the silence.

Maverick answered.

Connor's voice came in hot—"Where's Stelly? Her phone's been off for three days!"

Hearing him nearly broke me. At least someone still gave a damn whether I was alive. I started crying and couldn't stop.

"Stelly?" Maverick scoffed, face twisted. "Cute. Real close, huh? Where she went isn't your problem. Or what—did she drag you in again to play the loyal sidekick in another one of her little acts?

"Stella's my wife. I don't care how you two chat behind my back, but she needs to quit wrecking my family's name. Or I won't go easy on her."

I floated in circles, shaking with fury. This guy—this clown—who spent every second wrapped around Quincey like she was gold, had the nerve to accuse me of cheating? Unbelievable.

Connor snapped, "What the hell are you talking about? Stelly and I would never pull the kind of crap you're accusing us of.

"I saw something about a kidnapping in your area. Is it true, like people online are saying? That you picked Quincey and just left Stelly behind?"

Maverick's jaw tightened. Voice sharp. "I already had that garbage scrubbed. Stella faked the whole thing and got Quincey hurt in the process.

"Whatever scam you two are running, don't let me catch you. 'Cause if I do, I'll throw her in prison myself."

He slammed the call shut, tossed his phone, and slumped onto the couch, face ghost-white.

Yeah. Headaches again. I used to care. I used to sit there for hours, rubbing his temples, hoping he'd feel even a little better.

And what did I get for all that?

Accusations. He actually convinced himself I cheated.

My biggest mistake? Loving him.

You wanna know what real pain is? It's not death. It's realizing your heart doesn't even break anymore—it just stops.

I looked at him one last time. Empty. No more fire, no more ache. Just done.

From the sound of Connor's voice, he was heading back to Elencia. I held onto that tiny, fragile thread of hope. That maybe, just maybe, he'd find me. And finally take me away.

***

Next morning, Maverick strolled into the dining room, Quincey curled up in his arms.

Lucinda flipped on the TV, dead set on her daily dose of news. The three of them sat there, picture-perfect. Real Hallmark moment.

I watched from the sidelines, stone-faced. The whole thing made my stomach turn.

"Breaking news: a decomposed body was found in a trash pile near the old construction site by the reservoir. Police are working to identify the victim. Please stay tuned for updates."

Crash.

Glass exploded across the floor.

Lucinda barely blinked. "They really play this kind of thing first thing in the morning?" She shut off the TV and waved a maid over to clean up.

"Maverick, maybe you should send someone to look for Stella. I'm worried she—"

"Not her!" Maverick snapped, cutting Quincey off mid-panic. Dude went ghost-pale, gripping the chair like it was the only thing holding him upright. Everyone stared.

He sucked in a breath, tried to play it cool. "She knows she messed up, so she wouldn't dare come back. Probably drowning in guilt somewhere. No way that body's hers—she loves her life too much."

Lucinda jumped in. "Exactly. She's probably hiding out, scared Maverick's gonna divorce her.

"Quincey, you're too sweet. She got you hurt, and we're still feeling awful about that. You're the only one kind enough to care if she's even alive."

A ringtone broke the moment. Maverick snatched up his phone.

"I'm heading over to confirm the body." Connor's voice came through. "You coming or not?"

"Not going," he muttered.

"Fine. Don't regret it," Connor snapped, then hung up.

A strange flicker of anticipation stirred in me. That body? Pretty sure it was mine. I just wanted Connor to confirm it and get me cremated already.

"Maverick, where are you going?" Lucinda yelled.

He ignored her, grabbed a jacket, and bolted.

I had to tag along, still clueless until the car pulled up.

The scene? Total crime drama cliché—abandoned construction site, police tape everywhere, forensic techs snapping pics.

"She might be my sister. Please, just let me in."

Connor.

He was practically begging the cops. The second I saw him, the tears came fast.

"I need to know if the body has a red birthmark on her left waist."

"It does. Come with me."

The officer didn't waste a second, leading them in.

The second they uncovered me, Maverick's face went ghost-pale. He staggered, then dropped.

"No. No way. How could you just die like that? Stella—wake up. Please, wake up!"