Someone used Cal’s face. Used sophisticated deepfake technology to impersonate him on a video call. Used voice cloning to make Jace and Silas sound real in the background.
And I fell for it like an amateur.
God, I’m furious with myself. I know better. I was raised in this life, I know the tricks, the manipulations, the ways people exploit trust. And yet I let someone use my love for those three men against me.
Because I wanted to believe it. Because I missed them. Because I wanted to see them and talk to them and finally open those DNA results together like we planned.
My boys are safe. I repeat it like a mantra, like a prayer, like the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit. They’re with family. They’re protected. Whatever happens to me, they’re safe.
But what about Jace, Cal, and Silas? Do they know I’ve been taken? Are they walking into a trap thinking they’re rescuing me? Is this whole thing designed to lure them into danger?
My chest tightens. If something happens to them because of me, if they get hurt trying to save me from my own stupidity, I’ll never forgive myself.
Focus, Parker. Assess the situation. Find a way out.
I test the zip ties. Tight. Professional grade, not the cheap ones you can snap with enough force. My ankles are bound to the chair legs too. More zip ties. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing.
The chair is solid wood, heavy. Even if I could stand, I wouldn’t be able to move quickly or quietly with it attached to me.
I scan the room, looking for anything I can use. The windows are closed but not barred. If I could get to one, maybe break it, maybe scream for help. But we’re in the mountains. Isolated. Nearest neighbor could be miles away.
My phone. Where’s my phone?
Not in my pocket. Not on the floor nearby. Gone. Of course it’s gone. They’d have taken it immediately.
No phone. No way to call for help. No way to message Jace, Cal, or Silas. No way to tell them this is a trap, if they don’t already know.
I’m on my own.
The thought should terrify me. Six years ago, it would have. Six years ago, I ran because I couldn’t handle the weight of being a Carter, couldn’t handle the violence and the danger and the constant threat.
But that was before Noah and Liam. Before I learned what it means to fight for something that matters more than fear.
I’m not the same woman who ran to California.
I’m a mother. An Amazon, like Cal said. Someone who will do whatever it takes to protect her family.
And right now, my family needs me to survive this. Needs me to stay calm, stay smart, find a way out or at least buy time until help arrives.
I hear footsteps outside the room. Slow, deliberate. Someone’s coming.
I force my expression neutral. Don’t show fear. Don’t show panic. Whatever’s coming, I face it with my head up.
The door opens.
And Aria walks in.
For a moment, I just stare. Because this doesn’t make sense. Aria is Dominic’s widow, the trophy wife who lives in the guest house on the estate. The woman I physically threw out of my house when she showed up uninvited. The woman Silas shoved away when she tried to make a scene.
What is she doing here?
“Aria?” My voice comes out rougher than I’d like, the drugs still affecting me. “What the hell is going on? Did Ryan take you too?”
She smiles. It’s not a nice smile. It’s cold and calculated and completely at odds with the ditzy blonde persona she’s been playing since I came home.
“Oh, Parker,” she says, and there’s something in her voice I’ve never heard before. Something sharp and dangerous and entirely too pleased with itself. “You really have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
