Page 4 of Rule
"Whatever it takes," he confirms, his voice steady and unwavering.
Taking a deep breath, I nod, the anger subsiding ever so slightly. "We'll do this. We'll get Scarlet back, and we'll make sure Caitlin pays for what she's done. She isnotgetting away with this again. She is done."
Miles nods in agreement, his jaw set with fierce determination. With these trusted men, I know we can do it. We'll save Scarlet from this nightmare and bring her home. The guilt creeping into my soul demands attention, but I can’t let it get to me.
The weight of helplessness bears down on me, suffocating me as I pace the length of my office. Miles stands by the window; his brow furrowed in deep thought.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, aggravating me. Thinking it might be Tristan, I pull it out and glance down, only to see my mother's name on the screen, and my stomach drops.
“Shit.” I haven’t spoken to her at length since Scarlet killed my dad. Since everyone thinks he disappeared. I hesitate before answering, wondering if it’s a good idea, eventually, I figure I have to get it over with.
"Hello?"
"Max," she says, her tone filled with worry. "This has gone on for long enough. I haven't heard from your father in days. Have you spoken to him? Do you know where he is? Is he with that little doll slut? Hmm?"
Swallowing hard, feeling the heavy lump of anger at the thought of Dad with Scarlet, I clench my fist. “No, I haven't, but I'm sure he's fine, Mom."
Miles glances over with a raised eyebrow and wide eyes to convey his concern that this has cropped up now of all times.
"Are you sure? He hasn't answered any of my calls. I don't understand why he would be ignoring me like this." Her voice wavers, and I can tell she's fighting back tears, as angry as she is, she is also hurt, but she doesn’t think he is dead. Or maybe she isn’t ready to accept that yet.
"Mom, listen," I force myself to say, struggling to maintain my composure. "Dad's probably just busy with work. I'll give him a call later, okay?"
"Okay," she sighs. "Thank you, Max.”
"Of course, Mom. I'll let you know if I hear anything."
As the call ends, I grip my phone until my knuckles ache. The guilt of lying to my mom and fear for Scarlet coils tightly around my heart. I take a deep breath, trying to regain control.
"Everything all right?" Miles asks after a beat.
"No. Everything has gone to hell and fucking back,” I snarl. “Find me a fucking solution to this Beth issue. Now. I want her found, strung up, and tortured until she confesses to everything she’s done to Scarlet.”
"Okay." He doesn't push further, for which I'm grateful. He knows my mood has shifted to the darker side, and he is cautious.
“Go.”
He nods and slips out of the office.
His determination fuels my own, and I know we won't rest until she's free. We'll do whatever it takes to protect her along with keeping Origin under wraps - no matter the cost but right now, our criminal activities have spiraled out of control. If we don't find a way to settle everything down, we risk exposing ourselves to the world – and as Head of Origin, I can't let that happen.
My mind races, settling on an idea that must be brought forward. Once Scarlet is free, I'll reveal our ultimate plan to her. She is primed and ready, and this situation will only drive her forward, I’m sure of it. She won’t refuse, but it will take her a minute to process. But I feel a sense of excitement to be moving forward with our end game, even if it means bringing the schedule forward.
But first, we need to get her out of that damn cell.
We'll do whatever it takes to overcome this storm, no matter what challenges lie ahead.
The darkness may be closing in, but we'll fight together, side by side, until the very end.
ChapterFour
Scarlet
The cold metal cuffs bite into my wrists as the officer leads me through the sterile hallway. Trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat, it refuses to budge. My heart races at the thought of being caged like an animal, trapped and helpless.
"Stand here," the officer orders, pointing to an empty spot against a cold, gray wall. I obey, my legs trembling beneath me. "Look straight ahead."
The camera flashes, searing the image of my fear-stricken face onto their records. A shiver runs down my spine as they take my fingerprints, smudging my once pristine skin with black ink. The absurd thought filters around my head that I hope they don’t get ink on my white dress. The reality of the situation sinks its claws into me – the possibility is strong that I might be wrongfully imprisoned for a crime I didn't commit.
