Chapter 3: When the Truth Comes

Chapter 3: When the Truth Comes

She didn’t stop him when he kissed her.

Because this—whatever this was—might be the last thing they had before the fire returned.

The Saavedra estate was colder than Kourtney remembered. Not in temperature—but in spirit. The walls, once echoing with the measured grace of power, now creaked with something older, heavier. Secrets. Regrets.

She stepped into the drawing room, drawn to the faded portrait above the fireplace. Her mother as a young woman. Regal. Controlled. And somewhere behind those eyes—fear.

“You look like her,” came Travis’s voice behind her.

Kourtney didn’t turn. “I used to want that to be true.”

He walked in slowly, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. “And now?”

“Now I’m not so sure.”

The flames in the hearth flickered, casting long shadows across the floor. Travis joined her in silence, the space between them charged, buzzing with things unsaid.

“I thought coming back here would give me clarity,” Kourtney whispered. “But it’s only making the lines blur.”

He watched her closely. “You’re scared.”

She looked up at him, jaw clenched. “Wouldn’t you be? Everything I thought I knew—my family, the company, my sister—it’s all twisted. Nothing was ever what it seemed.”

“You’re not alone in this.”

She laughed bitterly. “Aren’t I? You think being here changes the fact that you walked away when I needed you most?”

He flinched—barely—but she saw it. She was tired of pretending she didn’t.

“I wanted to fight for you, Travis,” she said, eyes glistening. “But you made it so damn easy to give up.”

“I made mistakes,” he admitted. “I was scared. Of us. Of what loving you too much would cost me.”

“And now?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He stepped closer, gently placing his hand over hers. “Now I’m willing to lose everything. Except you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Kourtney…” He said her name like a prayer—broken, reverent. “I’ve spent every day since the fire trying to figure out how to fix this. But maybe we don’t need to fix it. Maybe we just… start over.”

She shook her head, the tears threatening to spill. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know. But we’re not those people anymore. We’ve seen what happens when we don’t trust each other. When we choose silence.”

“I’m scared, Travis,” she confessed. “Not just of Kim. Not just of what’s coming. I’m scared that if I fall for you again, it’ll destroy me.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Then let me fall first.”

She looked up, stunned.

“I’ll fall, Kourt. I’ll risk everything. I’ll go first—so when you’re ready, you’ll know I’ll be there. Waiting.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. One tear slipped down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her—softly, with reverence. A kiss that said I’m sorry, that said I remember, that said please, come back to me.

And for a moment, Kourtney let herself melt into it. Into him.

The world outside the estate could burn, but here—just for tonight—she allowed herself to feel something other than fear.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“Promise me one thing,” she whispered.

“Anything.”

“When the truth comes… whatever it is—don’t protect me from it. I’d rather face it with you than live in the dark alone.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“We face it together,” he said. “Always.”

Outside, the wind howled against the windows.

The storm was coming.

But so were they.

The corridors of the Saavedra estate felt like a time machine—every creaking floorboard, every echo in the walls, carried a ghost of the past. But tonight, they weren’t haunted by fear. Not entirely. Some ghosts wore softer shapes—memories of first kisses, of shared ambitions, of love once held and lost.

Kourtney sat on the edge of her childhood bed, her bare feet brushing the cold floor. She hadn’t been in this room in over a decade. It was untouched, perfectly preserved by her mother’s obsession with appearances. Dustless. Stagnant. Like her childhood had been cryogenically frozen—too painful to bury, too valuable to destroy.

Travis stood at the door, uncertain. He looked out of place in this room full of pastel walls and soft fabrics.

“Come in,” she said.

He did, hesitating before sitting on the rug beneath her feet, his back against the bed. “You used to keep your window open,” he said after a beat. “Even during the storm season.”

She smiled faintly. “I liked listening to the thunder. It made me feel small.”

He looked up at her. “You hated feeling small.”

“That’s why I liked the thunder,” she said softly. “It reminded me I wasn’t in control. And that was... comforting in a twisted way.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.

Then she spoke. “Do you remember our anniversary dinner? The one I ruined?”

“You didn’t ruin it,” he said gently. “You were scared. And I was too proud to admit I was, too.”

“I was supposed to tell you that night,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Tell me what?”

She hesitated. Her hand reached into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a crumpled envelope—one that had clearly been opened and resealed many times.

“I was pregnant.”

Travis froze.

“I miscarried two weeks later,” she said. “Didn’t tell anyone. Not even Kim.”

He stood slowly, his breath caught between heartbreak and disbelief. “Kourt…”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought maybe if I waited... I’d feel stronger. But then everything went up in flames—the company, Kim, us. And I didn’t want to make you stay just because of that.”

He stepped forward, kneeling in front of her.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” she whispered, tears slipping quietly down her cheeks. “But I was afraid that if I did, it would break you. And I couldn’t be the reason you shattered.”

His hands cradled her face.

“You were never the reason I broke,” he said. “You were the reason I survived.”

She exhaled, a sob escaping as she buried her face in his chest. He held her tightly, like she might vanish, like every second counted.

And maybe it did.

Because just as she leaned into his embrace, the estate lights flickered.

Then went out.

They both stiffened.

“Backup generator should’ve kicked in,” Travis said, already moving.

Kourtney stood, heart pounding. “That wasn’t a normal outage, was it?”

“No,” he said grimly, reaching under the bed and pulling out the emergency security tablet Jacobo had stashed there earlier.

Red alerts flooded the screen.

Breach detected. East corridor. Vault wing.

“She’s here,” Kourtney whispered.

“Kim,” Travis said. “She’s going for the server.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small handgun. “We split. You go through the west stairwell, cut her off. I’ll come from the main vault side.”

“No,” Kourtney said. “We do this together.”

“We can’t risk both of us getting caught,” he said. “This isn’t about revenge anymore. It’s about truth.”

She nodded, knowing he was right—but hating it anyway.

“Kourt,” he said, voice low, fierce, “promise me. If anything happens—”

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t you dare say goodbye.”

He leaned forward, kissed her quickly, fiercely.

Then turned and ran into the dark.

Elsewhere, in the Vault Wing

Kim moved like a phantom through the corridor—dressed in black, hair pinned, face sharp with purpose. The flash drive in her pocket felt hot against her skin. It was almost poetic—destroying everything in the place where it all began.

The server door loomed ahead, guarded by biometric locks she had once helped design.

She placed her thumb against the scanner.

Access granted.

Of course. Her mother had never revoked her credentials.

As the door clicked open, she pulled the drive from her pocket—

And froze.

Kourtney stood at the far end of the corridor, a gun in her hands.

“Don’t,” Kourtney said.

Kim turned slowly, her face unreadable.

“You always were the brave one,” Kim said.

“You always were the liar.”

Kim’s smile was tight. “And still, here we are. Same blood. Same ruin.”

“Why, Kim?” Kourtney’s voice broke. “Why did you do it?”

Kim looked down at the flash drive. “Because love was never enough for me. And it was always too much for you.”

Footsteps thundered behind them.

Travis.

“Put it down,” he said, leveling his weapon at Kim.

She looked at him—eyes full of something ancient and broken.

“I almost didn’t,” she said.

And then she tossed the flash drive.

Not at Kourtney.

Into the server.

The system screamed—overwriting files.

“No—!” Travis shouted, rushing forward.

But Kim didn’t run.

She stepped back as the security alarms wailed and red lights bathed the corridor in pulsing warning.

“You want the truth?” she said. “Then dig it out of the ashes. Like I had to.”

To be continued...