All Chapters of When Innocence Burns: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Ten: Hold the LineTreyvan POVI waited until the soft click of Cecilia’s door echoed down the hall, the sound final like a lock snapping into place. She was safe in there, oblivious to the shadows creeping closer. Free to chase her dreams of Stanford and saving the world. No worries or fears. My little sister, always the light in this godforsaken house.I lingered a beat longer, ear pressed to the wood just to catch the faint rustle of her settling in, then turned away, my gut twisting tighter than a coiled spring. The phone burned in my pocket, that damn message from Dad nagging at me like an itch I could not scratch. I had glimpsed it earlier during our game, right when Cici was raking in the pretzel pot, but with her laughter filling the room, I had shoved it aside.Now, alone in the dim corridor lit by the low glow of wall sconces, I pulled it out. The screen lit up my face in cold blue, and there it was, timestamped about 20 minutes ago.Storm hit, house knows. Deck was rigged.

Twelve: The Stone Cold GauntletZacian POV The leather of the booth creaked under my weight as I shifted. The dim amber glow from the sconces cast long shadows across the polished mahogany table. Il Drago Nero was not my first choice for a debrief. It was too public, even in this backroom. But Ryker had insisted on neutral ground, away from the penthouse. Sensitive cargo, he had texted, cryptic as a coded wire. I did not like it. My office up top had walls that whispered secrets only to me. It had layers of security that could choke a man before he drew breath. Here, in this gilded cage on the Strip's underbelly, we were guests in someone else’s house, even if that someone owed me their entire operation.The restaurant was a relic of old Vegas glamour, all velvet drapes and crystal chandeliers muffled by the hum of enforced silence. No cell phones allowed past the velvet rope. Staff swept the bo

Fourteen: Walking Through Deep WaterCecilia POVThe morning light crept through the curtains like an unwelcome intruder, soft and insistent. I stirred under the covers, my body heavy from a night of fitful sleep. Dreams had tangled with reality. Daddy’s arms around me, Treyvan’s laugh echoing down the hall. But now, in the quiet of my room, the silence was absolute.I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, expecting the usual Sunday sounds. The clatter of pans, the low murmur of the TV, or at least the heavy thud of Treyvan’s boots in the hall. Instead, there was nothing. Just the distant hum of the air conditioning and the faint tick of my alarm clock.I reached for my phone to check the time, my thumb hovering over the screen. No new messages from Treyvan. Just the silence. I frowned, a memory of Lillian’s voice from yesterday cutting through the haze. Don't panic yet.

Sixteen: WildcatCecilia POVThe rom-com droned on, the bubbly heroine spilling coffee down her shirt in some clumsy meet-cute that was supposed to be charming. I barely registered it, my eyes glazing over the screen as the living room lights dimmed with the setting sun. Lillian’s kiss still warmed my cheek, her promise to return soon echoing in the empty space. The mansion felt cavernous without her laughter cutting through the quiet, the high ceilings amplifying every creak and sigh of the house settling. I pulled my knees up, hugging a plush throw pillow against my chest, its velvety softness a poor stand-in for the comfort of actual company. Just an hour, she’d said with that reassuring squeeze of my hand. The clock on the wall ticked past forty minutes. Close enough to distract myself, I supposed. A soft hiss filtered from the vents overhead, like t

Eighteen: StonewallingCecilia POVThe van’s engine died with a shuddering cough, plunging the world into silence. My wrists burned, the plastic zip ties digging deeper into my skin with every jolt of the suspension. I breathed in shallow gasps, the coarse fabric of the hood over my head scratching my face, filling my nose with the stench of stale sweat and motor oil.Time had dissolved. It could have been minutes or hours since the mansion.A heavy latch slammed open, and metal hinges groaned. Hands grabbed me, rough gloved fingers digging into my biceps. I was hauled across the bench seat and dragged out, my boots catching on the floor as I stumbled into the night air.The hood was ripped away.I blinked, eyes watering against the harsh glare of a single floodlight. It cut through the darkness like a knife, illuminating a vast expanse of cracked concrete.