Page 92 of Scarred in Silence
“Off grid or you don’t know?”
Pain flashes across his face like lightning. “I don’t know…. but I do know I love you.”
“Then let me go.”
“I can’t.”
The gun—his gun—suddenly my mind is searching for a way out.
“I need the gun.”
He sees my demeanor change.
“You’ll always be my little Siren.”
His posture doesn’t change. He simply absorbs the sight of me shaking with heartbreak. “If you need to hate me, do it. If you need to kill me—” He spreads his hands. “I’m yours to end.”
Tears blur my vision. “Why didn’t you trust me to choose you willingly?”
“Because I don’t deserve your choice.” His voice shreds. “The world isn’t fair, Astra. I tried to rewire it. I failed.”
Footsteps drum outside—Dante again. He bursts in, breath tight. “Lucien—Miles is moving. The Utah safe house just pinged. Damien might be with him.”
Lucien’s eyes stay locked on mine. “Handle it.”
Dante glances between me and his best friend. “Now?”
“Now.”
Dante withdraws, leaving the door cracked. Somewhere down the hall, Evelyn’s voice rises in protest, then cuts off. Silence floods back.
Lucien lowers to his knees. “I’ll be here if you need to kill me. As long as it saves you from me.”
My arms tremble at my sides. I can’t tell if I’m ice or fire.
“Get out.”
“Astra—”
“Go.”
He rises, devastated.
“I’ll be outside.”
He leaves.
I rush out of the study, pushing past him as I pocket the flash drive, and sprint upstairs—two steps at a time—heart thrashing. Lucien’s master bedroom draws me in like a spell. I slam the door, throw the bolt. The smell of honey and cologne is everywhere; it makes my stomach flip.
I pace. Thought scrapes bone: Harmony’s laugh, Harmony’s watching over her shoulder, Harmony ghosting. Did Lucien keep her silent too?
I pop the flash drive into Lucien’s laptop. A single audio file loads:crowe_contingency.mp3.Dante’s voice crackles, half-drunk fury.
“You engineered her auction like a fucking business dinner, Lucien… Guards on payroll, you staged your cousin as a fake bidder ready to pull her at the last minute—except Nicolette jumped the gun and Miles got handsy… Oh, and Varek fucking failed you. You gambled her body for a hero narrative—”
I rip the drive free, bile rising. Proof.
I stumble to the bed. The gun lies on the nightstand, black and pitiless. I sit, feeling a migraine blossoming behind my eyes.
