Page 127 of Fallen Empire
“Didn’t matter. Bruce was easier to control in the long run. He’d do anything for money.”
“Wouldn’t you do the same?”
His answer was quick. “No. Money can only control those that don’t have enough of it. I want the power. I want the control.”
“Want… as in you don’t already have it?” that was where I made the mistake. One tiny remark trying to get under his skin had reminded him of reality.
“That’s enough story time,” he said, the chair scraping across the floor again like a line drawn in concrete. “But I do plan to keep you alive for the upcoming show. I left your friend a little clue to find you. Let’s just hope she remembers.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Because I knew exactly what he meant.
This wasn’t about ransom.
It wasn’t even about me.
It was about drawing her in. About forcing her hand. About turning Savannah into the final act of whatever twisted production he’d been scripting all along.
And he knew she’d come.
Because I would’ve done the same for her.
Which meant… this wasn’t a rescue mission.
It was a trap.
Chapter 26
Savannah
I couldn’t move.
Not since the realization hit me.
I always thought that if something happened to someone I loved, it would send me into a full-blown frenzy. A manhunt, a meltdown,something. But I couldn’t stop staring at the hardwood floors, tracing every groove like they held the answer.
My body swayed slightly, disconnected. Just… silence. Pure and devastating. Silence from the room. From Reaper. From my mind.
Is this what it felt like when someone was taken? When you knew—reallyknew—that someone you loved was going to die?
I’d never felt this before.
My parents’ deaths were instant. No warning. No time to process.
And Bruce? I was already dead in every way that mattered when I watched the life drain from his eyes. Not that I would have cared. I wouldn’t have grieved him. Not for a second.
But now… something else struck me. Something I hadn’t noticed until this very moment.
The panic that used to crash into me like a tidal wave was gone. It wasn’t rising. It wasn’t clawing its way through my throat. It wasn’t hovering at the edges. And it hadn’t been there for days.
Not since the dream.
The one where I saw him in my hospital room. Alex. A ghost from hell.
The fear had gripped me then, wrapped tight around my ribs like barbed wire.
But it hadn’t come back.
