Page 112 of Claiming Pretty

All three of us froze, our heads snapping toward the sound.

“The program,” Ciaran said. “It found something.”

He raced to the couch where his keyboard sat.

Ty and I fell on the couch next to him. I scooted forward to the edge of my seat as Ciaran clicked through the document that the program had sent him.

After tracing the shell corporations across several countries, we’d found the original incorporation document of Ashcradle House.

A single name blinked at the bottom of the screen: the owner of the Ashcradle House.

I stared at the all-too-familiar name, the blood drainingfrom my face. My heart pounded as the pieces began to fall into place, the enormity of it threatening to crush me.

“That’s…” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears.

We’d found the High Lord.

THE SHADOW

We had a name. We had a target for my knives. But these two wanted to keep “planning.”

“Killing him solves the problem,” I said again, my voice sharper than I intended as I paced the length of the living room, my fists clenched at my sides. “We take the High Lord out, and it’s over. Done.”

Ava sat at the table, her hands flat against the wood, steady in a way that only fueled my frustration.

She shook her head, her jaw tightening with that infuriating resolve of hers. “You’re wrong. Killing him won’t stop the Sochai. They’ll just crown a new High Lord. The rot goes deeper than one man, Ciaran.”

Her words sliced through me because I knew, deep down, she was right. But admitting that felt like surrendering. Like losing.

“So what? We let him keep breathing while we attempt to… infiltrate?” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. “Men like Dr. Vale spent years—years—doing the Sochai’s dirty work without being let into the inner circle.”

Before Ava could respond, Ty emerged from his bedroom carrying an ornate wooden chest I hadn’t seen in years.

My stomach twisted at the sight of it. It had rested at the foot of my father’s bed.

He set it on the table with deliberate care and opened the lid.

“Why the hell did you bring that here?” I snapped, more to cut through my own unease than anything else.

Ty’s expression was maddeningly calm, like he was impervious to the chaos around him. “I took these from Blackthorn. From the professor’s secret laboratory.”

He opened the chest and began to unload the contents across the table.

Leather-bound journals with the Sochai’s crest embossed on the front, a case of clinking vials—that made my stomach turn—and a small carved wooden box.

“His journals and his… things.” His voice was quiet, focused, like he wasn’t talking about the remnants of the man who had destroyed all three of our lives.

“What are you looking for?” Ava asked him, her tone soft but curious.

Ty didn’t answer immediately, flipping through the brittle pages. “I thought I remembered reading something…”

I turned back to Ava, my anger reigniting. “You think infiltrating them will work? You think either one of us are going to able to walk into their lair and play pretend without them figuring it out?”

Her eyes locked on mine, steady and unwavering. “I’m asking you to think bigger, Ciaran. Killing the High Lordmight feel good for five minutes, but it won’t end this. We need to destroy the Sochai entirely.”

Her words hit like a blow, and I hated the way they made me feel. Powerless. Out of control.

I lashed out, not at her, but at the world she was describing. “And what happens when they see through us? When they realize we’re trying to take them down? They’ll kill you, Ava. Is that big enough for you?”

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