“But we both know there’s no such thing.”
Evelyn’s voice barely rose, but the words wrapped around the room like a noose. “Everyonebecomes a Blackwell problem eventually.”
Colton chuckled, his expression dark, clearly amused. He moved toward the door, then turned. “I’ll be watching.”
The door shut with a decisive click.
And for a single, rare moment, Evelyn was alone with the thought she had refused to speak aloud:
Gideon wasn’t just rebelling anymore.
He was choosing.
And if Arden Rivers truly had his heart, then it was time to remind him:
Legacy would outlast love.
And in this family, legacy never lost.
CHAPTER 21
Danger at the Edges
The season’s first warning rode the wind, threading cold air through Gideon’s coat.
He stood beneath a streetlamp that sputtered overhead, casting jagged light onto the bones of a building time had nearly buried. Cracked bricks and boarded windows: this structure sagged under the weight of everything it had been forced to carry.
Across the broken pavement, a small group of tenants huddled close; drawn together by quiet fear, their silhouettes were tight with unease.
The boy’s small hand tightened around his mother’s, fingers dark against her weathered palm. His sneaker skimmed the broken curb with a quiet scrape.
Just behind them, a teenage girl tugged her backpack higher; her braids fell forward across her shoulder as she curled an arm around her sister’s shoulders. Their matching backpacks hung like shields across thin frames.
They looked like they’d just returned from school only to find the ground shifting beneath them. Again.
Across the lot, Colton Blake leaned against a sleek black sedan—a monument to everything this place was not. His suit was sharp, his posture easy, and his smirk as deliberate as the car’s shine under cold light. Indifference draped across him like a custom coat.
“You really think you can hold out?” he asked, voice curling through the silence like a fuse waiting to catch. He gestured toward it, contempt bleeding into every syllable. “This isn’t a charity drive. Push too hard, and you’ll find out how high the price gets.”
The crunch of gravel under Gideon’s oxfords cut through the noise. Slow steps. Controlled. Final.
“What the hell are you doing here, Colton?”
Colton turned leisurely, dragging out the moment like it cost him nothing. The smirk stayed put.
“Cousin,” he drawled, mock affection coating the word like cheap sugar. “Offering a little… guidance.”
“Guidance?” His voice went flat. “This is intimidation.”
Colton shrugged, tapping the hood like his name was carved into the blueprints. Through the window, Gideon caught the edges of architectural renderings. He didn’t need to see them to know what they were.
Steel and glass. Towers of ego masquerading as progress.
Not homes. Not for them.
“This neighborhood’s had its time,” Colton said, smoothing his sleeve. “The future doesn’t wait for sentiment.”
It hit like a slap. The same poison that had killed Richard II’s dream, now dressed in finer clothes.
