Her lips curled into a cold, joyless smile. “You think you’re special?” Her voice dropped, sharp as glass. “He needed me. And when he didn’t anymore, he discarded me like I never mattered. You think you’re different? You’re just the new girl who fits the role better.”
My stomach twisted, a sour coil of unease crawling up my throat.
“That’s not true.” But my voice lacked weight, the wind carrying it away like dust.
“Oh, but it is.”
She unzipped her bag with slow, deliberate movements and pulled out a folder. My heart dropped before it even hit the ground. Pages spilled across the rooftop like spilled secrets—photos, reports, grainy snapshots, all edged in shadow and implication.
One landed near my boot. I crouched slowly, fingertips brushing it.
Bruises. On a woman’s body. Deep purple across her ribs, down her thigh.
Another paper—redacted, stamped, blurred with something dark. A police report. It was the silence between the lines that screamed the loudest.
“Look,” she said softly, almost tenderly. “This is what happens to people who get close to him. He doesn’t build lives—he burns them. He’s violent, Seph. Manipulative. And charming enough to make you believe it’s love.”
I stood slowly; the wind kicking at the edges of my jacket and my nerves. “He’s not like that. Not with me.”
“He doesn’t love you,” she said, not missing a beat. “He owns you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“He protected me!” I shouted, louder than I meant to. My voice echoed across the rooftop like a scream in a cathedral. “He’s not perfect, but he chose me. He’s kept me safe.”
Callista laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What you saw wasn’t protection,” she said, stepping closer until we were nearly nose to nose. “It was possession. And if you weren’t so blinded by how good it felt to be wanted, you’d see that.”
“No.” I shook my head, fists clenched, fury rising like heat under my skin. “You don’t know him now. You’re stuck on who he was.”
“I saw how he looked at you,” she said softly, her voice dropping to a whisper.
And for the first time… she looked afraid.
Not for me. Not for herself.
For what he might do.
“I saw it,” she whispered again, eyes glassy and wild. “And it terrified me.”
Clint stepped forward, siding with her like it meant something. Like he still got to stand behind her and pretend it wasn’t betrayal wrapped in a different bow.
“I just want to help,” he said, his hand reaching out.
I jerked back before he could touch me. “Don’t.” My voice cut sharp, brittle. “Don’t touch me.”
His hand hovered in the space between us, awkward, unnecessary. I turned my glare to Callista.
“You ran,” I said. The words tasted like ash. “You ran away. And I was forced to take your place.”
Her expression didn’t flinch. If anything, she looked… unapologetic. “I did,” she said. “And I’d do it again.”
I laughed, humorless. “Of course you would.”
“I’m here now because you’re trapped, Seph,” she said. “But there’s still a way out. We take him down. Together. You’re his wife—his weakness. And if we time it right, we can burn this whole empire to the ground. Walk away with everything.”
Everything.
