Behind him, the empire seethed.
Ahead, there was only fire, and the ruins he was willing to leave behind.
Present
Those words haunted him.
Forge your own path.
They weren’t a mantra anymore.
They were a test, and tonight, that test felt nearly impossible.
Gideon stepped into his office, tension pressing in. The city beyond the windows burned with light, but inside, it was quiet. Still. Heavy.
He reached for the photo in his wallet—his grandfathers standing outside The Blackwell Room, younger then, full of hope.
Men who believed they could build more than wealth.
Before it all turned to rot.
He placed it on his desk, grounding himself. This wasn’t only about legacy. It was about truth. About honoring the version of the club, and the man, Henry had envisioned.
But the family was closing in. Evelyn’s eyes at dinner. Sebastian’s barbs. Alex’s threats veiled as brotherly advice.
They were tightening the noose.
And then there was Arden.
Arden, who didn’t fit in this world. Who didn’t bend to it.
Who scorched through every lie he’d been raised to live with.
She wasn’t part of their war, but she’d been pulled into it.
Because of him.
He reached for his phone.
Not her name. Not yet.
Nathan Cole. His grandfather’s closest friend.
A man who had never stopped warning Gideon that the real war would come from inside the family.
His anchor in this fucked-up dynasty.
The only person who could help him navigate what was coming.
The moment he hit send, it felt like crossing a line.
Talk soon. It’s about Arden. And what comes next.
Nathan: I’ll meet you at the club. Whatever it is, you won’t face it alone.
Gideon wasn’t sure what he felt, but he knew one thing.
Arden wasn’t a secret to protect anymore.
