"I assumed."
"Then they know where we are." He starts the engine. "We need to move."
"Where?" I ask.
He glances at Talia. She nods, some silent sibling communication passing between them. It’s almost like they’re superhero twins with telepathic powers.
"Frost & Flame," Blake says. "My club. It's not Delano territory—I won it in a fight before I left. Silas has tried to claim it for years, but the deed's in my name and he can't touch it without admitting he doesn't control me."
"A nightclub," I say flatly. "You want to hide me in a nightclub?”
"I want to hide you in the one place in Wintervale where violence is expected, cameras don't work, and I control.” He pulls out of the parking space, accelerating into traffic. "You said you wanted to fight. Welcome to your war room."
Talia leans forward. "I'll keep digging through the Kingsley documents and see if there are any other clauses or loopholes we can exploit. But Blake? She needs genetic verification by the 23rd if we're going to activate the clause. That means a lab, witnesses, and official documentation all done under the radar.”
"I know a guy," Blake says.
"Of course you do." Talia sighs. "Try not to get her killed before Christmas. Nonno will never forgive you."
"Nonno will have to get in line."
She opens the door, pauses. Looks at me with something that might be sympathy. "For what it's worth, Peyton? Your mother was brave. Stubborn. Brilliant. She would have loved seeing you fight for this. Remember, it’s your birthright.”
Then she's gone, disappearing into Wintervale's shadows like she was never there. Superhero style.
Blake and I sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the last hour pressing down on the back of my neck like my oversized childhood pet dog, Wilbur.
"Thank you," I finally say. "For telling me the truth. For not treating me like I'm breakable."
"You're not breakable," Blake says. "You're a Kingsley. They don't break. They sharpen."
"My mother broke."
"No." He looks at me, and his eyes are dark, certain. "They broke her. There's a difference."
“Blake–”
“Yeah?”
“What does my father know about this?”
He pauses for a moment to consider the question. “That, I don’t know.”
He drives.
I clutch the flash drive like a lifeline and watch Wintervale slide past the windows, Christmas lights, and fresh snow and secrets buried under beauty.
Tonight I'm just Peyton Quinn, senator's daughter, mama-orphaned heir, the exotic beauty holding onto a rage that's been building for three years.
But tomorrow the war starts. Tomorrow, I stand my ground and take my place inside one of the most aristocratic, Anglo, elitist families in this town.
Tomorrow I become a Kingsley.
And tonight?
Tonight I learn how to fight.
Chapter 3
