All Chapters of The One He Didn't Save: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

I was dead—tortured to death by Maverick Falkner's enemy.When I opened my eyes again, I was a ghost, drifting in some beam of light that pulled me straight back to the Falkner estate.First thing I saw? Maverick carrying his ex, Quincey Stafford, into the master bedroom—my bedroom.He laid her down like she was glass, tucked the blanket around her.She looked up at him, all soft and sweet, tugging his sleeve. "Maverick, this is you and Stella's room. I shouldn't be here."Maverick was about to say something when the door creaked open."As long as I'm here, no one's got the guts to say a word to you," Maverick's mom, Lucinda, said, strolling in with a mug of honey-lemon tea. "The other rooms aren't cleaned yet. Just stay here. Don't worry about that spiteful girl.""No one would dare," Maverick told Quincey with a soft smile—then his face iced over. "If Stella hadn't paid someone to fake that kidnapping, none of this would've happened. You wouldn't have had that asthma attack or

I swallowed the sting in my chest and drifted after Maverick and Quincey to her troupe's studio.The second Quincey—the star ballerina—walked in, every dancer stopped and greeted her."Quincey, is that your boyfriend? He's so hot.""Duh. Why else would he be carrying her around?"Quincey flashed that smug little smile, pretending to scold them. Told them to get back to practice like she wasn't eating up every word.They just laughed, totally buying the 'shy and humble' act. Please.Maverick stared at the stage, stone-faced. No denial. No reaction. Just enough silence to look like agreement.I followed his gaze—and bam, flashback.Back in school, he'd shown interest in Quincey, the dance academy girl. Even asked why I never tried ballet.That was the first time my crush on him felt... threatened.One dumb comment. That's all it took for me to sign up for ballet.I was way too old to be starting ballet, and my teacher didn't sugarcoat it. Said it'd be brutal. She wasn't wrong.

Maverick was sobbing like his world just collapsed. Kinda rich, honestly.What was this? Some last-minute act? He was the one who called me a liar.Now he's putting on a show—like anyone's buying it.I felt nothing. Just wanted to be done and gone.Connor slammed him against the wall. "She died like that because of you. You could've saved her."If the cops hadn't stepped in, Maverick wouldn't have made it out in one piece."The victim endured extreme torture before death. It was brutal," the cop said. "Think hard. Did she—or you—have enemies? This wasn't random. Someone took their hatred out on her."Maverick froze. Like someone yanked the plug on his soul. His face drained. "She was... tortured?""Yes. It was horrific. What's under the sheet is... incomplete. Almost all of her internal organs are missing."His hands shook as he lifted the cloth. The moment he touched my legs—both feet severed—he crumpled."I'm sorry, honey," he choked. "Please wake up. Don't leave me. I can'

At five a.m., the noise yanked me out of whatever afterlife version of sleep I was in.Maverick was tearing the place apart—storming around like a madman.He ransacked the bathroom, then crumpled under the sink, clutching my clothes like they'd bring me back."I deserve to die. I really do. Honey... why won't you come to me in my dreams? Don't leave me. Please."His phone rang.He wiped his face, answered with shaking hands. Whatever he heard? It shut him down fast. Lips pressed tight. Eyes lit up with something dark.He hung up, shot to his feet, and took off downstairs."Maverick, something terrible's happened! Quincey's been kidnapped!" Lucinda was antsy, pacing back and forth." The kidnappers just called. They said to come alone to a factory on the outskirts. What are we going to do?"Maverick let out this dead-cold laugh and walked out without a word. Left Lucinda yelling after him like background noise.I drifted behind him, weightless and silent, straight to the factory