My boot caught his shin. He dropped to one knee, blood pouring from his mouth, whimpering. Good. I wanted him to cry. I wanted him to beg. I wanted him to feel what it meant to make her cry.
“You made her flinch.”
Another fist. Another crack.
“You used her. Pawned her things. Stole her breath. And I gave it back.”
I gave her silence. I gave her worship. I gave her the leash so tight she could finally breathe again. I reached for the back of his neck. Drove his head down into the countertop. Wood splintered.
He crumpled. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t scream.
I should've killed him then. But something caught my eye—something off, something wrong.
I stepped around the body. Dragged my bloodied glove along the back of the television. Nothing. Checked the wall. Nothing. Then—the back panel shifted. Loose. Taped. Careful. A file. Sealed. Flat. Hidden behind the screen.
I peeled the tape free. Opened it. Photos. Documents. Dates.
Selene’s name at the top of every single fucking page.
She paid him.
She used him.
She owned this long before I ever stepped onto the field.
And Cloe?
Cloe was collateral.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
And now—she was mine.
I stepped back toward the ex—groaning, coughing blood, trying to crawl. I crouched beside him, leaned in close.
“She paid your debts, you know.”
He froze.
“Not all of it. But enough. Enough to keep your lungs whole.”
I grabbed his jaw. Pulled his bloody face toward mine.
He whimpered. I smiled. Dead. Sharp. Clean.
“And you fucking knew that.”
His eyes rolled back. He collapsed. Not dead. Not yet. But small. Pathetic. Done.
I stood. Turned toward the door. File under one arm. Blood cooling across my gloves.
I didn't look back. I didn't need to. He wasn't mine. But she was. And now I had everything I needed. She wasn't waiting for rescue anymore. She was waiting for fire. And I would bring it—leash in one hand. Crown in the other.
22
BARRON
The soundof the door didn't startle me. Not here. Not in the Lawlor Tower. Not in a room where surprises didn't exist. If someone crossed that threshold, they belonged—or they were about to die.
