Evelyn.
He answered.
“Mother.”
“Gideon.” Smooth. Detached. “I hear you’ve been revisiting old ghosts.”
“I’ve been working,” he replied coolly.
“Oh, I’m sure. And West Virginia… such a curious destination for business, considering how much we’ve buried there.”
She paused, letting it sink in.
“You forget I know your moves before you make them.”
He said nothing.
“Don’t be naïve, Gideon. You may think you’ve built your own kingdom, but you’re still a Blackwell. That comes with consequences. Obligations.”
“I’m aware,” he said.
“Then act like it.”
Another pause. Measured. Sharp.
“You’ve always had a blind spot when it comes to… complications. Be careful where you place your trust.”
Then silence.
The line went dead.
He didn’t move. Just stared out over the city, the glass now warming in his hand.
He thought of Arden again: her voice, her defiance, her composure.
“She’s trouble,” he muttered.
She wasn’t the trouble.
He was.
That truth landed with the weight of inevitability.
Because some part of him knew: if she ever walked into his world, he wouldn’t let her go.
CHAPTER 3
Farewell Echoes
Weeks of research. Sleepless nights. She’d scrolled, searched, and mapped out a life she wasn’t sure she was about entering.
But no matter how deep she dug, one name remained stubbornly elusive.
The Blackwell Room.
Arden leaned against the counter, the stove clock’s faint glow splintering across the worn linoleum, casting long, uneven shadows through the quiet.
The name surfaced in articles on elite gatherings and whispered business deals, but the details were frustratingly vague.
