Page 61 of Wicked Embers

Sabrina smirks faintly. “Fail-safe. In case anyone found the journals.”

“C4?”

“My dad’s idea,” she says, her tone sharp with accusation.

I stare at her, shaking my head. “You’re terrifying, you know that?”

Her smile widens. “Thanks.”

LEIGH

My eyes lock with the man in front of me, my heart hammering wildly. All I have to do is scream, and an army will burst into this room within seconds. But as I open my mouth, the sound catches in my throat. It’s not just the threat he made aboutkilling Dolph—it’s something deeper, a pull I can’t explain, as though something inside me is holding me back.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” My voice is strained, barely above a whisper.

“Because deep down, you already know,” Nikolas says softly, his eyes glinting with an emotion I can’t name. He glances toward the door, his movements tense. “We don’t have much time, Lulu-Petal.”

The nickname stirs something in me, an ache that I don’t fully understand. My hand instinctively moves to the door handle, ready to bolt, as he starts to reach behind his back, but he raises his hands quickly.

“No! I just have something to give you. I left it for you once before, hoping you’d find it when you got to Los Angeles. But Radomir must’ve found it when he put your boxes from your apartment in storage.”

My brow furrows. “How do you even know about Los Angeles?”

His lips quirk into a faint, almost sad smile. “I’ve been looking out for you for far longer than you realize, my little duchess.” His voice softens, and the love in his eyes twists something deep in my chest, making it hard to breathe. My heart pounds, and a part of me—one I can’t seem to quiet—wants to trust him. Wants to lean into him.

He reaches behind his back, and I flinch, my body tensing as my fingers grip the door handle.

“No sudden moves,” I snap, my voice tight.

He freezes, his movements deliberate as he slowly retrieves something from the back of his waistband—a pair of books. My breath hitches. It’s my songbook. My mother’s songbook. Relief floods me, mingling with confusion as he hands them over.

“You need to hide your mother’s book,” he says urgently. “And be careful with your phone—they’ve cloned it.”

“What?” My voice rises slightly, then falters. “You’re fucking shitting me.” My fingers tighten around the books.

His eyebrows lift at my words, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “I’m not used to hearing you talk like that. I guess in my mind you’re still a little girl.”

“Well, I grew up living with a grifter.” The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. “Youleft me to be raised like that.”

He flinches, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, Lulu-Petal. It had to be that way. Mark raised you the only way he could—to keep you safe. To teach you how to survive if you ever needed to disappear.”

“By stealing and conning people?” I snap, the heat rising in my chest.

“Not everything is what it seems,” he says quietly. “Mark loved you more than life itself. He did what he thought was best to protect you. If he comes out of his coma you should talk to him.”

His words chip away at my anger, leaving a hollow ache in its place. “What happened to my father?” The question bursts out before I can stop it. “Did Radomir try to have him killed?”

“No,” Nikolas says firmly. “A very dangerous man is after your mother’s book—and otherthingsshe left behind. It was one of his men who stabbed Mark. He’s in the hospital now.”

The floor feels like it tilts beneath me. “Is he going to die?” My voice cracks, tears pooling in my eyes. My last words to him rush back to me, sharp and cutting. “I was so awful to him. I didn’t mean it.”

Nikolas steps closer, his expression softening. “He knows that, sweetheart. He knew you were angry. He made a difficult choice to protect you, even if it meant you’d hate him for it.”

“What choice?” My brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”

“We don’t have time to get into that,” he says quickly, his eyes darting to the door. “But you need to hide that book.” He gestures toward my mother’s book in my hands.

“This?” I hold it up. “Why? Are they going to steal her songs or something?” The disbelief in my voice is edged with frustration.

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