Page 73 of Shattered By Grace

Victoria nodded, her throat tightening. “It was worse than I imagined. Run-down, abandoned… it wasn’t home anymore.” She swallowed, pushing past the ache in her chest. “But I went inside anyway.”

Taylor didn’t say anything, just let her continue.

“I found a photo,” Victoria said, her voice quieter now. “A picture of me and my dad. It was ruined from water damage and dust, the glass shattered… but behind it, there was a letter.”

Taylor straightened at that. “From your dad?”

Victoria nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. He wrote it before he died, warning me about the Lockes, about the Grand Reaping, about everything.”

Taylor reached for the bottle and refilled both of their glasses. “Jesus, Vic.”

“And that’s not all.” Victoria took a deep breath. “I found the notebook.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Wait. THE notebook?”

Victoria nodded. “It was hidden in the pass-through between my closet and my dad’s office. He kept records of everything. Every deal, every payout. It’s all in there.” She hesitated, gripping her glass a little tighter. “And so is the contract.”

Taylor blinked. “What contract?”

“The one that sealed his fate,” Victoria murmured. “And mine.”

Taylor set her glass down with a thud. “Wait. I need to see this. Will you show me?”

Victoria didn’t hesitate. She got up and walked over to the table, grabbing everything—the letter, the notebook, the folder from Adams. The weight of it still felt foreign in her hands, like she was holding something that didn’t belong to her, even though it had shaped every part of her life.

“That’s why I texted you to come over,” she said, handing the notebook to Taylor before sinking back into her chair.

She flipped it open, her fingers skimming over the pages, over the names, the deals, the proof of everything her father had been caught up in. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to the page that made her stomach churn and her hands shake.

Taylor leaned in, eyes scanning the contract, and as she read, her face darkened. “Holy shit, Vic…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Victoria swallowed hard, her throat dry. “He signed it.”

Taylor’s gaze snapped to hers. “He probably had to.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “But that doesn’t make it any less fucked up.”

Victoria nodded, gripping the edge of the table. “That’s what keeps messing with me. I know he didn’t have a choice, but it still feels like a betrayal.”

Taylor didn’t say anything right away, just reached for the wine and topped off both their glasses. “Alright,” she finally said, settling back into her seat. “We’re gonna drink this, and then we’re gonna figure out what the hell comes next.”

Victoria let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. We have to.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Several bottles later, the apartment was a mess of scattered papers, empty glasses, and two women well past tipsy, sprawled out on the floor against the couch.

Taylor picked up the letter again, squinting as if she hadn’t already read it five times. “Girl, this letter from your dad… it gets me every time.”

Victoria let out a dry laugh, swirling the last of her wine in her glass. “Yeah, he must’ve written it when he realized Cassian had figured out his betrayal,” she sighed, tipping her head back against the couch.

Taylor snorted, shaking her head. “Vic, I know you’re trying to downplay it, but this is more than just a goodbye letter. He wanted you to have this, to know what he was up against.” She flipped the page over like she’d find something new. “He was trying to warn you.”

Victoria stared at the ceiling, lips pressed together. “Yeah… and now I have to figure out what the hell to do with all of it.”

Taylor clinked her glass against Victoria’s in mock celebration. “Well, lucky for you, I excel in drinking wine and solving life-shattering conspiracies.”

Victoria smirked. “Good. Because I think we’re only scratching the surface.”

Victoria blinked, her vision slightly hazy as she flipped between the pages. The testimonies from the court case blurred together with the cramped, careful handwriting in her father’s notebook.

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