Page 30 of Shattered By Grace

What the actual fuck just happened?Tristan, the blood, the panic in Tyson’s eyes…it was all too much to process. But one thing was clear: she was in deep now.

Her fingers fumbled for her phone, dialing a ride, but her mind kept returning to the building. The underground fights.Tyson’s warning about staying away when they started. She now understood why. This wasn’t just a club; it was the heart of a deadly, bloody world.

Her breath hitched as the realization settled in. She was part of this now, whether she liked it or not. The dark secrets of this place weren’t just rumors, they were a reality. And she had stepped right into the center of it.

Chapter Thirteen

Two agonizing hours later, Victoria finally stepped through her front door, her body aching with exhaustion. The moment the door clicked shut, she threw the deadbolt and slumped against the wood, her forehead pressing against the cool surface. A shaky breath escaped her lips.

Did I just stumble into the underground empire my father died for?

Her father had died trying to take down the underground fight circuit and the empire built on blood money, drugs, and corruption. The Lockes had always been at the center of it. She’d spent years trying to forget that name, to erase the memories that came with it.

Now she had seen it. Been inside it.

Her stomach twisted as the night’s images flooded back. The blood on Tyson’s hands. The fear in his eyes.

The way Tristan had gone completely still, as if— no.She shut that thought down before it could settle.

Justin… nope. Nope, not going there either.

Pushing off the door, she kicked off her heels and dragged a hand through her hair, pacing.I always knew the Lockes ran that world, but how deep are they in? How deep are Tyson and Tristan?

She’d assumed they were just heirs to the empire, distant shadows of the real monsters pulling the strings. But tonight, Tyson hadn’t looked like a detached observer. He’d looked desperate. Terrified.

And Tristan?—

Her chest tightened.

I should walk away. I should forget I ever saw anything.

But she couldn’t. Because if Tristan and Tyson were more than just names tied to the underworld, if they were active players, then she was in more danger than she ever realized.

And worse?

A part of her didn’t want to run.

She sank onto the couch, her hands gripping her knees.What the hell am I doing?

Victoria let her head fall back against the couch, eyes shutting as a bitter laugh slipped past her lips.

Fuck.

She should be furious. The Locke family had taken everything from her, ripped her life apart in ways she could never undo. She’d sworn she would never get caught in their world, never let their name be anything more than a dark stain in her past.

And yet here she was, shaken, restless, and—damn it—worried.

I hope Tristan is okay.

The thought hit her like a slap, and she sat up straighter, her jaw clenching.

No.

He was a Locke. One ofthem. Whatever mess he’d gotten himself into, he deserved it. That’s what she should believe, what she had to believe.

But then she saw it again, playing in her mind. The blood. The panic in Tyson’s voice. The way Tristan had gone completely still.

With a frustrated groan, Victoria pushed off the couch, pacing back and forth in her living room. She needed to shake this off, to clear her head. But no matter how hard she tried to shove it down, a nagging question kept digging its claws in.

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