Page 85 of Silent Oaths
Itake another sip of myIronVeilwhiskey as the phone continues to ring.
Withevery passing moment, the whispers of the past are beginning to clear.Thetruth is getting closer, and it feels like the end of it all is finally within reach.
Thepower, the control—it’s all falling into place.
Itwill soon all be mine.
Isabel’sarticles she wrote exposingVanguardand its elites have been making waves.
Thepaper is printing stories of corruption, fraud, and hidden agendas.Thenames of the men involved are surfacing, their pristine reputations unraveling in real time.
CarltonPierce, the so-called philanthropist, is under investigation for embezzling millions from the charities he swore by.SamuelHawke, the former senator, is being scrutinized for his connections to a series of shady business deals that stretch all the way toEurope.AndMarcusEllison?Ascandalous affair with a minor that’s about to destroy his political career.
It’sall coming out.Theonce untouchable men ofEbonridge, with their wealth, influence, and power, are finally being dragged into the light.AndIsabel’sarticles are at the forefront of it all.
Thephone continues to ring, the sound growing almost rhythmic asIsit back, staring ahead.I’vebeen waiting for this moment for years, and now that it’s here,I’mnot about to waste it.
Asthe line rings a fourth time,Ifeel the weight of the decisionI’vemade, but it doesn’t faze me.Theworld doesn’t wait for anyone, and neither willI.Thisis whatI’veworked for.
OnceVanguardimplodes from the inside out, we’ll rebuild.We’lltake everything that’s left and make it ours, an empire forged from the wreckage of whatVanguardwas, from the ashes of their power.
Andthis time?Noone will stand in our way.
Finally, the line clicks, followed by a voice on the other end.
“It’sabout time,” they say, almost amused.
Ilean back in my chair, swirling the whiskey in my glass.Sheknows exactly whyI’mcalling, andI’msure she has been waiting for this as much asIhave.
Itake a moment before responding. “Hello,Camila.”
31
ISABEL
Iwake up with a gasp, my body jerking upright as cold sweat clings to my skin.Mybreath is uneven, my pulse hammering against my ribs.Idon’t remember the dream—only the weight of darkness pressing against my chest, the suffocating feeling of fear wrapping around me.Itlingers in my bones, in the way my fingers curl into the sheets, grasping at nothing.
Isqueeze my eyes shut, trying to shake off the unease, but it clings to me, refusing to let go.
Idon’t want to be alone.
Thethought comes beforeIcan stop it, curling inside me like a whisper of weakness.
Ihate thatIneed anything from them, but right now,Ido.
Ipush the blankets off and slip out of bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor asImove toward the door.Thewooden floorboards creak softly beneath my weight, andIhesitate.
Fuck.WhatshouldIdo?
Iease the door open and step into the hallway.Myeyes flick to the three doors at the end of the hall.Ihesitate again.
Icould go toTheodore, butIknow what would happen ifIdid.Hewouldn’t turn me away, but the intensity in his eyes, the way he looks at me like he wants to consume me whole—it would be too much right now.
Maxwell?No.Idon’t trust myself with him, not when he gets under my skin so easily, not when he knows exactly how to push me to the edge and make me fall.
Thatonly leavesJulian.
Thekindest of the three, who, despite everything, has always been the gentlest with me.Thesafest.
