Did my father discover Remy’s deception? Is this his way of showing his hand? Or… My throat tightens. Or did something happen to Remy, leaving my father free to act?
I pace the length of the room. The questions circle like vultures. How did they find this place? Remy assured me it was registered under layers of shell companies, impossible to trace back to him. Unless…
“No.” I stop abruptly, refusing to follow that thread of thought. Remy has Marcus with him. Loyal, efficient Marcus who’s protected him for a long time. Plus, the additional security detail—men Remy personally vetted and trusts.
My reflection catches my eye in the window. I look wild and desperate. Like the scared little girl who used to hide from her father’s rage. I force myself to take deep breaths, steadying my racing pulse.
Remy knows what he’s doing. He’s survived in this world far longer than I have. He’s protected by the best. He’s safe.
But the words ring hollow and my eyes drift to the phone sitting on the desk. One call could confirm he’s okay. One call could also blow his cover if he’s in the middle of something delicate.
I press my forehead against the cool glass, staring at the city lights below. The same city where, right now, Remy is facing down my father. My hands curl into fists as memories of Ano’s cruelty flash through my mind. The sound of my mother’s crying. The bruises she tried to hide.
“Please be safe,” I whisper.
The phone vibrates against the desk, the harsh buzz shattering my fragile composure. An unknown number flashes on the screen. My hand hovers over it, every instinct screaming at me not to answer. But I can’t ignore it. Not now. Not when Remy is out there.
“Hello?” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“My disappointing daughter.” The words slither through the speaker, and suddenly, I’m eight years old again, watching himtower over my mother’s crumpled form. “Did you really think you could hide from me forever?”
“What do you want?” I demand, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
“Such hostility.” He clicks his tongue. “And here I thought we could have a civil conversation about your… protector.”
My heart stops.
“Mr. Harding has been quite entertaining.” His clinical tone sends ice through my veins. “Though I must say, his dedication to keeping the security codes of your location secret is becoming rather inconvenient.”
A muffled thud echoes in the background, followed by the distinctive crack of bone meeting metal. Then—God—then I hear it. Remy’s grunt of pain, raw and breathless. The sound rips through me like a blade.
“You’re lying.” But the words catch in my throat because I know—I know that sound. Know his voice, even in agony.
“Am I?” Another impact. Another grunt. “Marcus has been particularly creative. Fifteen years of loyalty builds quite the understanding of someone’s weaknesses.”
Marcus. The betrayal hits like a physical blow.
Bile rises in my throat. “If you hurt him—”
“You’ll what?” His voice hardens. “Expose me? Destroy my empire? You’re just like your mother—all righteous fury until someone you love pays the price.”
The comparison cuts deep, releasing a flood of rage that burns away my fear. “I am nothing like her. And you—you’re nothing but a sadistic coward who—”
“Careful,” he interrupts, ice replacing the honey in his tone. “Remy’s fingers are looking rather breakable at the moment.”
I bite back my retort, tears of fury burning my eyes.
Tears burn my eyes as Remy’s ragged breathing fills the line. Each labored intake of air feels like a knife in my chest.
“You have until sunup,” my father says, his voice carrying the same cruel authority that once made my mother flinch. “Bring every piece of evidence, every file, every whisper of your investigation. Or I’ll send you his head as a reminder of the price of betrayal.”
The line goes dead, leaving me clutching the phone so tight it might shatter. My legs give out, and I slide to the floor, Remy’s pained sounds echoing in my head.
I love you, he’d said. And I never said it back.
I can’t breathe. The phone slips from my trembling fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor. Remy’s pained grunts replay in my mind, mixing with long-buried memories.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the wall, welcoming the sharp sting. “I should have stopped you, Remy. I should have…”
