DREDYN
My phone starts ringing at 6 a.m.
I know who it is before I look at the screen. There’s only one person who’d call this early—who’d have the audacity to wake me after the night we just had.
Father.
I let it ring. Once. Twice. Three times, before it goes to voicemail.
Beside me, Mara’s still asleep, curled into Jasper’s chest with Talon’s arm draped over her waist. The three of them are tangled together in the king-sized bed, dead to the world after the adrenaline crash from last night’s escape from D.C.
The phone starts ringing again.
I slip out of bed carefully, trying not to wake them, and grab my phone. The cold January morning seeps through the windows as I pad down the hallway to the kitchen, putting distance between this conversation and the people I’m trying to protect.
I answer on the fourth ring.
“Dredyn. We need to talk.”
“It’s six in the morning.”
“And you’re awake, which means you’ve been expecting my call.”
“We were invited guests?—”
“Don’t play stupid with me, boy. You weren’t invited until that little bitch threatened to cause a scene during the swearing-in. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Attended a dinner?”
“You publicly aligned yourself with a girl who just declared war on her own father. A girl who’s trending worldwide with hashtags calling her a rebel and a traitor. A girl the Syndicate has very specific plans for.”
I grip the phone tighter. “What kind of plans?”
“The kind that don’t involve three college boys thinking they can play hero. End it. Today. All three of you. Cut ties with Mara Black before this gets any worse.”
I grip the phone tighter. “No.”
Silence. Then, “Excuse me?”
“I said no. I’m not ending anything. None of us are.”
“Dredyn—”
“She’s ours, we’re hers, and we’re not hiding it anymore.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The Syndicate had specific plans for Mara Black. Her engagement to Chase Harrington wasn’t just political theater, it was strategic positioning. And now, Chase is missing, she’s publicly aligned with OCK, and you’ve turned her into a liability we can’t control.”
“Good.”
“This isn’t a game. The Syndicate doesn’t tolerate rebellion, especially not from its own legacy members. You, Jasper, Talon—you’re all sons of the organization. You’re supposed to understand how this works.”
“I understand perfectly. You wanted Mara Black as a controllable asset—a future First Lady you could manipulatethrough her husband. But Chase is gone, she chose us instead, and now you can’t have her. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? Control. You’re pissed because she slipped through your fingers.”
“Watch your tone.”
“Or what? You’ll threaten me? Too late. I know what you are, Dad—what the Syndicate is. What you do to girls like Mara when they don’t comply.”
“How long have you known?”
