Page 74 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

Letting Isabella go was the right decision.

I tell myself that over and over again, trying to ignore the dull ache in my chest.

It had to be done.

She was getting too close. Asking too many questions. Stepping into a world that would swallow her whole without hesitation.

And worse—she was making me care.

I sit at the edge of my bed, my elbows resting on my knees, rubbing my hands together as I inhale deeply. The room is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the golden glow of the bedside lamp. The air is thick with the lingering scent of Isabella’s perfume—a soft and warm scent I’ve memorized without meaning to.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

It’s for the best.

The moment I let someone become a weakness, I lose.

I’ve already lost too much.

She doesn’t belong in my world, and if last night wasn’t proof enough that I can’t protect everyone, then nothing will be. Jayden is gone. Charles is missing. The note left with the severed finger still burns in my mind.

The rat’s already inside.

It means one thing—someone in my inner circle is working against me. Someone who knew where Jayden was before he was taken. Someone who has been feeding information to the wrong people.

That’s what needs my attention right now.

Not on how Isabella felt under me.

Not on the way she looked at me when she whispered my name.

Not on how I almost—almost—told her to stay.

Enough.

I exhale sharply, standing from the bed and rolling my shoulders back. I’ve already wasted too much time thinking about her. She’s gone now. She’s back at her apartment, far from this mess, far from the bloodshed that’s about to come.

And then—

A knock at the door.

No. Not a knock. A frantic pounding, the kind that immediately sends a shot of adrenaline through my veins.

"Boss!"

I cross the room in three strides and yank the door open, barely giving him time to step back. Nico’s breathing hard, his expression grim.

"They found Jayden."

For a second, the words don’t register.

And then—

"Where?" My voice is sharp, edged with strain.

"Abandoned warehouse on the south docks. He’s alive, but barely."

The world narrows.

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