Page 16 of The Reckoning
The casual mention of threats against others that I care about chills the blood in my veins. I could react, could retaliate, but there wouldn’t be any point. I have Lilian, and she’s safe between Drew and me while we put further distance between us and the men who think they can orchestrate our lives.
“We’ll be seeing you soon.” The older man smiles as we disappear out the door.
We don’t slow our pace until we’re near the building’s exit, and it’s only then that I feel like I can finally breathe.
“Drew has a safehouse,” I mutter to Lilian as we exit the building, stepping over the unconscious guards. “He says it’s secure.”
“For now,” Lilian says quietly. “None of us is truly safe until this is over. They’ll be waiting and watching until the last second.”
She’s right. We’re not free—we’re just playing by different rules in the same twisted game. The only benefit is that we’re at least together, the three of us against whatever Richard and these shadow backers have planned.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that whatever happens next, whatever price we’ll be forced to pay, it starts with keeping Lilian safe and figuring out how to turn this weeklong deadline into something we can survive.
FIVE
ARSON
The warehouse echoes with emptiness as I step inside, the heavy door slamming shut behind me with a finality that sets my teeth on edge. It was a haven, the place I planned my revenge, the first real space that felt like mine. Now it just feels...empty. My footsteps ricochet off concrete walls, mocking me with their solitary rhythm. No Lilian rushing to confront me. No captive brother breathing threats from behind reinforced glass.
Just silence. The absence of sound so fucking loud it makes my skin crawl.
I move through the space like a ghost, past the security monitors still displaying the outside feed from the building where Lilian is being held. Where my brother and his dick friend are mounting a rescue as we speak.
If Drew betrays us—betrays her—I’ll gut him with my bare hands. Slowly. Make him feel every second of it. The thought does nothing to calm the storm brewing beneath my skin. I never should have agreed to this arrangement. Never should have left her fate in someone else’s hands. But Richard’s call left no room for alternatives—not if I want to maintain my cover, to finish what I started.
Not if I want to save Lilian.
I strip off my clothes with vicious efficiency, dropping them in a careless heap on the warehouse floor. The shower is quick, functional—just enough to wash away the grime of planning and arguing and to reset myself into the role I’ve been playing for months.
Aries Hayes.Golden child. Heir apparent. Beloved son.
The thought alone makes bile rise in my throat.
The suits hang in perfect alignment in the room I set up as my bedroom. It was never meant to be permanent, but now, when I think about having to leave, it breaks something open in my chest. The closet is fully outfitted. Not that I’ve needed it much lately, too busy here with Aries and Lilian than out there working to bring down the Hayes empire. Twenty identical suits, each one hand-tailored to Aries’s former measurements, which are mine now.
Perfect replicas for a perfect replica.
I select one at random, the dark charcoal material smooth under my fingers. Expensive. Quality. Everything the Hayes name represents.
The white shirt feels like a straitjacket as I button it. The collar is too tight despite being custom-made. The tie—crimson, like freshly spilled blood—knots perfectly around my neck. The jacket settles on my shoulders like armor.
The mirror reflects a stranger. A man wearing my face but not my identity. This is the polished, sanitized version of me that never existed. This is the version that never could exist. Not after what I’ve been through. Or what I’ve done.
I tug the jacket sleeves into place, and the material bunches around my elbows, scraping across the scars there. The sensation shoves me into the memory before I can stop it. Nylon straps holding me to a hard bed, the nurses’ equally hard eyes as they watched my face while they dosed me with whateverexperimental cocktail it would be that time. That version, that time, sent me into convulsions so hard I almost bit off my own tongue. Pain rolled through me in white-hot waves until I succumbed to the darkness afterward.
Sometimes that darkness was my only solace.
I tug the jacket again, reminding myself why I’m doing this, and survey my reflection one more time.
Is this what I would have become if Richard hadn’t discarded me? This hollow shell of a man, perfectly dressed, perfectly empty?
I bare my teeth at the reflection, momentarily shattering the illusion. There’s the real me—the feral thing lurking beneath the tailored suit. The monster they created when they locked me away and erased my existence.
It feels wrong to be doing this, to be stepping back into the role while Lilian is in danger. She might be hurt, scared, and wondering where I am and why I haven’t come for her.
But this is the only way forward. The only way to maintain the facade long enough to bring the whole rotten empire crashing down.
The drive to Hayes headquarters is a blur of city lights and racing thoughts. The sleek Range Rover—Aries’s car, now mine—purrs beneath me, another prop in this elaborate performance.
