Chapter 4

The metal pen tip tore across the paper. Black ink pooled in an ugly stain at the top of the page.

It was titled: Voluntary Hostage Waiver.

Arthur's cane lay across the corner of the desk. He didn't even look up at me. His voice carried only pure impatience.

"Sign it, Genevieve. The council needs an answer, and the family needs to see you volunteered. Do this, and your name stays honored in the books."

After the signing, Arthur called me into his private study to give his final instructions. I stared blankly at the paperwork in front of me. For years, I was the Sterling princess. I was used to the finest things in life. Arthur always boasted to outsiders that I was the daughter who made him proudest.

Now, he wanted a single piece of paper to erase me from the family entirely.

Julian stepped forward from the shadows. His knuckles bent slightly. He laid his warm fingers over the back of my hand.

His eyes held that familiar look of restraint and tenderness. His voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Just sign it. I know this hurts you. It's just a piece of paper. The second you get back, I'll be the first one waiting to bring you home."

I didn't pull away. I didn't speak.

The pen moved across the blank line. I signed my name with one clean, sharp stroke.

The send-off was as cold as a secret execution.

No armored escort waited at the gates in the cold morning wind. Just one blacked-out Great Lakes limousine idling by the curb. Eleanor was busy wrapping a cashmere shawl around Chloe's frail shoulders, whispering sweet words to calm her youngest daughter. Marcus leaned against a marble pillar, staring down at his phone with zero emotion.

Only Julian walked me to the car door.

He reached out and smoothed the collar of my trench coat. His eyes stayed on my pale face. His tone was full of blind confidence.

"Keep the late Don's marker close to your skin. Nikolai is brutal, but he won't spit on a decades-old blood oath. When you get there, flash the marker, make the deal, and don't make a scene."

The corners of his lips twitched up into a tiny, soothing smile.

I turned my body to avoid his touch. I bent down, slid into the backseat, and slammed the heavy armored door shut.

The tinted black window rolled up. It cut his words in half. In the side mirror, his reflection shattered into tiny, distant pieces.

...

A freezing wind swept across the front steps of the estate.

Julian stood by the driveway. He watched the black limousine roll past the iron gates. His heart skipped a beat for no reason.

An empty, gut-wrenching feeling hit him out of nowhere.

He shook it off quickly. He pulled his coat tighter against the wind. In his mind, Genevieve was just too stubborn. Saying the marker was gone was just a petty lie because he chose Chloe last night. The late Don was ruthless and sharp. He would never let his eldest daughter throw away the family's greatest shield just to save a captured underboss.

It made no sense.

Julian's face turned stern. He turned to his assistant with cold authority.

"I'm going to pull the late Don's original blood oath file from the vault. Later today, send an official cable to the Great Lakes. Remind them Genevieve holds the marker. They will treat her with respect. Anyone who touches her breaks the nationwide syndicate treaty."

He pushed open the heavy steel door of the records room. He spun the dial on the late Don's private safe.

The thick steel door swung open.

It was completely empty.

There was no lead box containing the black-and-gold twin-serpent coin. Only a neatly folded piece of yellowed paper.

Julian frowned. He pulled out the worn sheet.

The moment his eyes hit the title, every muscle in his body turned to stone.

It was not an active file.

It was a document titled: Settlement Receipt: Blood Marker Surrender & Destruction.

In the center sat the dark red wax seal of Nikolai Volkov, the iron ruler of the Great Lakes. Below it were the cold, harsh lines of an old typewriter:

[The blood marker has been surrendered and destroyed. The oath is fully settled.]

[Terms of Settlement: Unconditional cancellation of Julian Vance's execution. Immediate transfer to the West Coast.]

[Authorized by: Genevieve Sterling.]

At the bottom, next to Genevieve's clean signature, was a dried, dark-red thumbprint in blood.

Two years ago...

Two years ago, he was caught hijacking a supply line in Chicago. He was pinned under dozens of guns in a black-site basement, beaten half to death, hours away from being poured into concrete and dumped into Lake Michigan.

He always believed the late Don had moved heaven and earth on the West Coast, forcing the Great Lakes to back down to save him.

The family never saved him.

The girl he accused of being selfish, dramatic, and petty had knelt all night beside a dying man, trading away her only shield in this world just to buy his worthless life.

"The marker is gone... I traded it to save your life... I'm going to Chicago with nothing. I will die there..."

Her words from yesterday in that freezing wine cellar hit his brain like a sledgehammer.

She wasn't lying.

In all their years together, she had never lied to him once.

He was the one who put her on a one-way ride to the gallows.

"Go after her!" Julian roared, his voice cracking with pure terror. "Bring her back! I don't care what it costs, turn that car around right now!"

Five minutes later, the door was kicked open. His assistant stumbled in, shaking violently.

"Underboss! Wire from the front checkpoint!"

"By the time we got the news, the transfer convoy had already crossed the Nevada state line! The Great Lakes armored units took custody! The border gates are on full lockdown! By syndicate law... she's across the line! We can't get her back!"

Julian's pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks. His fingers lost all strength.

The yellowed receipt slipped from his hand, hitting the cold floor without a sound.