"Your father. Rylan. The sheriff. The lie," she says. "We dismantle it. We attack the source. We prove the corruption."
She leans forward, her elbows on her knees, closing the distance between us. "I'm not here to hold your hand, Gio," she says. "I'm here to help you burn the house down."
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic, trapped rhythm. "You don't know what you're asking," I say, my voice cracking. "These people... they don't lose. They crush."
"Then they haven't met me," she says. A cold, dangerous smile touches her lips. "I don't break, Gio. I shatter things."
I look at her—really look at her. The ice is gone. In its place is something much hotter. Something volatile. She's offering me a weapon. And for the first time in my life, I don't feel like the sacrifice. I feel like the executioner.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 30
Zoë
The adrenaline is still a jagged spike in my bloodstream, but my hands are steady. That’s what matters. I pull my phone from my pocket, the screen lighting up the dim space between Gio and me. He’s watching me like I’m the only real thing in the room, but there’s no time to be his anchor right now. This is a general’s moment.
I open the “Inner Circle” chat. The last message is a meme from Dante about beer pong.
Clear the party. Get everyone to the living room. Now.
The message goes out. No pleasantries. No explanations.
“Who are you texting?” Gio asks, his voice rough.
“The cavalry,” I say.
Downstairs, the bass dies. It’s an execution. The thumping beat that’s been vibrating through the floorboards cuts off witha screech of feedback, followed immediately by the confused roar of a hundred drunk students. Then shouting. The kind that happens when authority steps in. I hear Adrian’s voice booming over the crowd, barking orders.
“Out. Everyone out. Elm House is closed.”
Gio pushes off the door, listening. “They’re listening to you.”
“They’re listening to authority,” I correct. “I just provided the direction.”
Heavy footsteps thunder up the stairs. The lock on the bedroom door feels like a containment unit about to be breached.
“We’re moving,” I say, the phone already back in my pocket.
“Zoë, wait,” Gio says, stepping in front of me. “You don’t know what you’re walking into. If they think I’m a killer—”
“They’re waiting for orders,” I cut in, looking him dead in the eye. “And I just gave them one.”
I reach past him and flip the deadbolt. The metal click is loud in the sudden quiet. Gio shifts, just enough. I hook my fingers around the knob and pull. The hallway is empty, the chaos downstairs already muted to a dull, rhythmic thud of boots on hardwood.
Gio moves behind me, a shadow radiating heat, but hesitation isn’t an option. The stairs take me fast.
The living room is packed, but the air is different. It’s sharp. Electric.
Adrian is by the fireplace, his knuckles white on the mantle. Declan paces the length of the sofa, vibrating with a kinetic energy that looks ready to snap. Dante and Cole flank the entrance, arms crossed, blocking out the world. Clara and Talia sit on the edge of the couch, spines straight, eyes locked on the doorway. Maya and Genny stand near the window, a silent unit of cold calculation.
They all freeze when I appear. Then their eyes shift past me, to the wreckage standing in the hall.
Gio steps into my peripheral vision. He looks like he’s been through a blender—hair wild, jacket torn, eyes haunted—but he squares his shoulders.
“Zoë,” Adrian starts, pushing off the mantle. “What the hell is going on? The Whisper just dropped a nuke on—”
“Sit down,” I say.
