Zane’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer, which in itself is answer enough.
Dredyn lets out a low growl. “Where is she, Zane?” he bites out. “At her father’s estate? Some safe house? We know she’s not in her dorm.”
Zane’s shoulders slump a fraction. He realizes this game is over; we’ve pieced together enough. “She’s… home,” he finally admits, voice quieter. “Her father took her back to the family estate outside the city—security’s tight as hell. Milo’s with her, watching her like a damn hawk.”
Dredyn slams a fist down on the desk at the mention of Mara’s twin brother. Papers jump and the coffee cup rattles. “That snake. Of course, Milo is helping Daddy play jailer.”
Talon’s expression hardens. “So, they really pulled her out of school,” he murmurs, as if tasting the bitterness of it. “All because of last night?”
Zane exhales, some of the fight leaving him. He leans back against the desk for support. “You have to understand, Asher’s murder freaked everyone out. A student dead in her building? Clark’s not taking chances. And…” He grimaces, brushing a stray lock of chestnut hair from his forehead. “He’s pissed about the… ah… influences in her life recently. You three, obviously.” Zane gestures at us vaguely. “He thinks Mara’s gotten… distracted. The campaign can’t afford any missteps from his daughter right now.”
I bite back a snarl. Clark Black should be afraid. He nearly lost her to us in every way that matters.
“He’s cut her off completely,” Zane continues, eyes downcast. “No phone, no internet. Probably hopes the distance will… I don’t know, make her forget you exist.” He snorts humorlessly. “As if she could.”
Talon, still straddling the chair, drums his fingers again. “All right, so Control-Freak Daddy locked the princess in the tower for a few days. Maybe until after Election Day. Fine. But there’s something else, isn’t there?” He narrows his eyes shrewdly atZane. “Your face is telling me there’s one more piece you’re holding back. Spill, Zanie.”
Zane winces at the nickname. He hesitates, then blurts, “He’s… positioning her for a different future, okay? One that doesn’t involve you.” The words come tumbling out in a rush. “Clark and Milo, they’re arranging things—tightening the reins. And part of that is… is Chase.”
“Chase Harrington?”
Zane nods, chewing on his lip. “Yeah. You know, two political dynasties joining forces. Power couple and all that crap.” Zane rolls his eyes, but there’s anger underneath. “Clark practically shoves Chase in Mara’s face every chance he gets. Milo isn’t subtle about it either—keeps dropping hints that Chase would be good for her.”
My vision tunnels for a moment. Chase Harrington… heir to the Harrington family. Son of James Harrington, a Syndicate kingmaker. Of course his son would be groomed as part of their plans. But my mind snags on something else entirely: a memory, hazy and half-buried, begins to surface. A bright grin. A blond boy in a tailored suit offering an older girl a drink at a gala. Her laugh, like wind chimes…
My heart thuds dully. Could it be…? I breathe out slowly, fighting to keep my face impassive.
Dredyn curses under his breath, drawing me back. “That son of a bitch thinks he can just hand her off to some preppy Syndicate puppet?” He looks about ready to put his fist through the wall. “Over my dead body.”
Talon’s expression has gone cold, the charming mask slipping to reveal real anger. “Chase Harrington,” he repeats softly. “So that’s their plan? Keep her under watch and polish up Prince Fucking Charming as her future husband? I’m guessing they’ll trot them out as the perfect couple just in time for election optics.” He sneers. “Disgusting.”
Zane’s shoulders sag with relief now that the secret is out. “Mara hates it,” he says quickly. “She can’t stand Chase. But youknow her father… she won’t have a choice if he decides to publicly tie her to him.”
Zane’s gaze flits between the three of us. “I told you what I know,” he says quietly. “Now… what are you going to do?”
Dredyn answers in a heartbeat, voice low and feral. “We’re going to get her back.”
Talon nods, a slow predatory smile unfurling. I feel the darkness in me coil with agreement. Mara Black belongs with us, not in some gilded cage with a fake prince.
Talon rises from the chair and stretches, as if shaking off the last bit of restraint. “Appreciate your cooperation, Zane.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small slip of paper, stepping forward to tuck it into the front pocket of Zane’s flashy jacket. “Do us a favor and pass her a message, yeah?”
Zane plucks the paper out, eyeing it. I know what it is without needing a peek—an address scrawled in Talon’s handwriting.The safehouse.It’s a remote lake house outside of town that OCK keeps off the books for… well, let’s call themsensitive situations.
“Tell her we said this, word for word,” Talon continues, as Zane reads the note. “Red Ridge Safehouse, whenever she’s ready. Got it?” Mara will understand that, no matter what her father plans, she has a way out and a place to run. A place with us.
Zane blows out a breath. “Okay.” He straightens his jacketand musters a weak smile. “Well, this was just lovely. We should do brunch next time instead.”
With that, Zane slips out into the hallway and is gone. Dredyn quickly peeks his head out to ensure the coast is clear, then shuts us back inside for a moment. The three of us stand in the hush of the emptied office, adrenaline still thrumming in the air. We got what we came for, but none of us feel relief.
Talon rakes a hand through his red hair, muttering a curse. “Mara’s father has officially lost his goddamn mind,” he says. “Does he really think he can just erase us from her life? Parade her around with Chase Harrington like some prized doll? It’s sick.”
At the mention of that name again—Harrington—I realize I’ve been standing stock-still, my heart pounding a heavy, familiar rhythm. There’s a prickling at the base of my neck, an instinctual alarm I haven’t felt in years. Harrington. Why does it feel like that name is carved into my bones?
Without thinking, my hands lift and I begin to sign the name in sharp, precise motions. “CHASE. HARRINGTON.”I spell it out once, twice, my fingers rigid. I’m lost in thought, sifting through old memories that suddenly don’t seem so buried.
Dredyn notices. He steps closer, brow furrowed. “Jas? What is it?”
I blink, realizing I was signing unconsciously. My hands fall still. Talon watches me curiously, and Dredyn’s green eyes narrow. “Why? Who is he to you?”
