***
I stared at the screen, every breath stolen from my lungs.
My mother.
Tied.
Mouth gagged.
Eyes wild with fear.
And behind her—Savannah Langford, still perfectly polished, lips curved in a smile that could melt glaciers and murder hearts.
She wasn't running.
She was waiting.
And now, she had made it personal.
The photo was timestamped five minutes ago.
"Jace!" My voice cracked as I leapt from the bed, snatching the phone off the mattress. "She has my mom!"
He shot upright, the sleep vanishing from his face in an instant. "Who?"
I turned the screen toward him.
His face went pale.
Savannah.
He grabbed his jeans from the floor, yanking them on as I paced like a caged animal, panic boiling over into rage.
"How did she even find her?" I asked, voice trembling. "My mom's been out of the country—she left to get away from all of this!"
"Then she came back. Or Savannah brought her back." Jace's voice was grim, deadly calm. "She's playing us. Her silence was the setup. This is the endgame."
The next message came seconds later.
Unknown: "You wanted truth? Come get it. 43 Oak Ridge Drive. Noon. Come alone, Leah. Or Mommy bleeds."
Attached: A short video clip.
My mother, gagged and weeping, a blade glinting inches from her throat.
***
11:14 A.M.
The Drive to Oak Ridge
The car ride felt like a fever dream. My knuckles were white around the steering wheel. The city blurred past in colors I couldn't name. Jace sat beside me, locked and loaded, but silent.
"You're not coming in," I told him.
He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "The hell I'm not."
"She said come alone. She'll kill her if I don't."
"And what if she kills you?" His voice cracked like breaking ice.
I turned to him at a red light, meeting his gaze with the kind of strength I didn't know I had until it was born out of necessity. "Then burn it all down. If she kills me, don't stop. Finish this."
His jaw clenched.
And then he reached over and pulled me into a kiss that felt like goodbye.
"Come back to me," he said, forehead pressed to mine. "No matter what. You hear me?"
"I hear you."
But my heart didn't feel like it believed it.
***
11:57 A.M.
43 Oak Ridge Drive – A Mansion Disguised as a Tomb
The gates were already open when I arrived, like Savannah had been waiting with a wine glass and a countdown clock. I stepped through, phone in my pocket, a hidden wire in my bra—one of Jace's ideas.
The house was cold marble and cleaner than death. I walked down the hall until I saw her.
Savannah.
Sitting on a velvet chaise, blonde hair cascading over her shoulder, in white like she was hosting a baptism—or a funeral.
My mother sat behind her, tied to a chair, mouth gagged, blood trailing from her temple.
Savannah gestured like she was welcoming me to brunch. "Leah. Finally."
I stepped forward, fists clenched. "Let her go."
"Oh, we'll get to that," she said, sipping from a glass of champagne. "But first—story time. You do love stories, don't you?"
I stared at her, heart hammering. "Tell it fast."
Savannah stood, walking in slow circles. "You see, everyone thinks Reed died in that fire because he was a threat. Because he was going to talk. But that's not true."
She turned to me, eyes gleaming. "He died because he was the threat. He was going to expose everything—including Jace."
My breath hitched.
"No," I whispered.
"Yes," she said sweetly. "Your golden boy was knee-deep in blackmail and party drugs. He was Tristan's right hand. He didn't fall from grace—he helped build the tower."
"You're lying."
She laughed, sharp and cruel. "Am I? Or has he only shown you what he wanted you to see? The broken bad boy. The hero trying to make it right. But Leah…" She leaned in, voice dropping. "What if there's no 'right' for him to make?"
I felt my world shift. The floor beneath me cracking.
"And this?" She waved to my mother. "Collateral. A reminder. You try to expose me again, Leah, and your family will keep disappearing."
"You're insane," I said, voice shaking. "You kidnapped my mother—"
"I protected her," Savannah snapped. "Because Jace would have used her next. Just like he used Ivy. Like he used Reed. Like he's using you."
A scream built in my throat.
And just then—glass shattered.
A smoke bomb rolled across the floor.
Jace.
***
12:03 P.M.
The Ambush
Savannah shrieked as smoke flooded the room. I lunged for my mom, cutting the rope with the knife Jace had tucked into my boot. Her sobs were muffled but frantic.
The front doors slammed open.
Chaos. Footsteps. Screams.
"Go!" Jace barked, pulling me and my mom toward the exit.
But Savannah wasn't done.
A gun cocked behind us.
"You don't get to win!" she screamed.
I turned—just in time to see her aiming at Jace.
I moved without thinking.
Bang.
The shot echoed.
But it wasn't Jace who fell.
It was me.
***
12:05 P.M.
Blood and Silence
The world slowed. My ears rang. My chest burned.
"Leah!" Jace's voice broke into a thousand pieces as he caught me in his arms, lowering me to the ground. "No, no, no—baby, look at me—"
I smiled, tears streaming down my face. "Did… we get her?"
He laughed through his sobs. "Yeah. She's done. She's done."
And then—
Sirens.
Flashing lights.
Cops storming in. Guns drawn. Savannah dragged screaming into the daylight.
Everything blurred.
And I let go.
***
Three Days Later
The Hospital
I woke to machines beeping, sunlight spilling across my face, and a weight holding my hand.
Jace.
He was asleep in the chair beside me, head resting near my thigh, his fingers wrapped tightly around mine.
When I stirred, his eyes flew open.
"Leah," he breathed, sitting up. "Jesus, I thought—"
"I'm okay," I whispered.
"You almost died."
"You almost lost me."
"I never had you," he said quietly. "Not really. Not until now."
I reached for his face, brushing my fingers over his jaw. "You still do. You always will."
He kissed me, slow and deep, careful of the tubes and wires and the weight of everything behind us.
And in that kiss—I tasted more than love.
I tasted freedom.
***
A nurse came in with a file.
"Miss Grayson, there's something… unusual."
She handed me a letter, no return address.
Inside—
A photo.
Of me and Jace in bed.
Naked.
Asleep.
And a line written in red ink:
"I told you the game had just begun."