“My father built his entire career on stopping men like them. On being tough on crime, on protecting his daughter from predators.” I laugh again, that same hollow sound. “And there I was, spread out on display, letting them use me however they wanted while he was forced to watch. At the same time, half of Ravenwood’s elite watched. People who’ve shaken my hand at charity galas.”
My voice cracks on the last words. “I can never face him again. How can I look him in the eye, knowing what I did? Knowing what I am?”
I shake my head, fresh tears streaming down my cheeks. “And now I’m bound to the three of them for a year. They got their revenge. They destroyed my father. So why keep me for a year when they don’t even wantme? When all they wanted was to destroy him?”
The question hangs in the air, unanswered, because deep down I know the truth. Theyarekeeping me. Theydidclaim me. And despite everything—despite the betrayal, despite knowing I was a pawn in their revenge game—I’m grateful for it because I care about all three of them for some ridiculous reason.
Mira pulls me back into her arms, holding me tight against her chest. “Everything will be okay,” she whispers. “We’ll figure this out together.”
My body shivers against hers, but I don’t pull away. For the first time since we left Purgatory, I let myself be held. Let myself shatter completely in front of someone else.
“I need to ask you something,” Mira says gently, waiting until I look up at her. “If they gave you the choice... if they asked if you wanted them to have you for the year... what would you say?”
My face crumples. For a moment, I think I’m going to start sobbing again. Instead, I cover my face with my hands, my voice muffled.
“Yes,” I whisper. “God help me, yes.”
The admission hangs in the air between us, sacred and terrible.
“But it’s not me they want,” I continue, my hands still covering my face. “They made that abundantly clear. I don’t understand it,” I say, dropping my hands to look at her. “They told me exactly why they were doing this. Revenge against my father. Using me as a weapon to destroy him politically. And still...”
I stand and pace to the window, unable to sit still with the conflict raging inside me. “The idea of it ending, of not having the three of them... of going back to my political fundraisers, of having to pretend to be the perfect mayor’s daughter...” My voice breaks. “It felt like the end of the world. Like I’d rather die than go back to that life.”
I laugh, but it’s a broken sound—jagged and painful. “How fucked up is that, Mira? They’re using me for revenge, and I want them to keep doing it. I want Dominic’s hands on me. I want Liam’s mouth. I want Ryder’s...”
I shudder, unable to finish the sentence because saying it aloud makes it real. Makes it undeniable.
“I want all of it. For an entire year. Even knowing they used me.”
The honesty terrifies me more than anything else has.
Mira reaches for my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Maybe that doesn’t make you fucked up,” she says quietly. “Maybe it just makes you human.”
Her words should comfort me, but they don’t. Because I’m beginning to suspect that what I am is far more complicated than simply human.
“There’s something else,” I say, turning to face her. “Something I haven’t told you.”
Mira’s expression shifts, becoming more guarded.
“When Ryder was with me—after Liam—at the feast. He looked at me like...” I pause, searching for the right words. “He looked at me like he saw me. Like I wasn’t just a weapon against my father or a conquest or a revenge plot.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “He apologized. He said he was sorry for what they’d done at the feast. He said that somewhere along the way, I became more than just Mayor Pike’s daughter to him.”
“Cora—”
“And the worst part?” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “I believe him. I actually believe that Ryder cares about me. That maybe... maybe underneath all the calculated cruelty, they all do.”
I turn back to the window, watching my reflection blur in the rain. “Which makes it even worse, doesn’t it? Because if they care about me, then what they did at the feast was a deliberate choice to hurt me, knowing full well that I would be devastated by it. They could have warned me. They could have told me my father would be there. They could have given me the option to refuse. But they didn’t. They chose to orchestrate my humiliation, knowing it would break me.”
I press my forehead against the cool glass. “And I still want them. That’s the part that terrifies me. Even knowing what they chose to do, I still want them.”
Mira is silent beside me for a long moment. Then, so quietly I almost miss it: “I know exactly what you mean.”
I turn to look at her, searching her face. “What do you mean?”
“Xavier.” His name falls from her lips like a prayer and a curse intertwined. “Even knowing what he is, what he’s done... I can’t stop thinking about him. About his hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.”
She drops her voice to barely a whisper. “The way he said my name when he was inside me.”
