No matter how fast I run, it feels like I’m being pulled deeper into quicksand. Ethan. Xavier. My uncle. Each of them wants a piece of me, and none of them are willing to let go.
I thought I could outmaneuver them, distance myself from their schemes and demands, but the truth is becoming painfully clear: there’s no way out. Not without blood.
Isabella’s warnings echo in my mind as I sit in my car, parked outside a quiet cafe on the outskirts of Baltimore.
I take out my phone, staring at the list of missed calls from Ethan and Xavier. Both of them think they can control me, bend me to their will. They’re wrong.
I pull up Ethan’s contact, hovering my thumb over the call button. This needs to end-now. But before I can press it, my phone vibrates again, and a new text appears.
Uncle Victor: “We need to talk. Time’s running out.”
I curse under my breath and toss the phone onto the passenger seat. Uncle Victor has been circling like a vulture, pressuring me to take over the family business. Every day I delay, his tone becomes more urgent, his offers more desperate.
But the truth is, I’m not ready for any of this. I never wanted to be part of this world. Yet it seems I have no choice.
Just as I reach for the ignition, my phone pings with another message. This time, it’s from Ethan:
“We need to meet. Don’t trust anyone. Not even your uncle.”
My stomach twists. Ethan’s paranoia has been growing since he got out of prison. He’s different now-darker, more ruthless.
Every time I speak to him, I feel the old Ethan slipping further away, replaced by someone harder, colder.
I shake my head, shoving the phone back into my bag. I can’t keep doing this. I need space. I need time to think. But time is a luxury I don’t have.
Later that day, I meet my uncle in his private study, the air thick with cigar smoke and tension. Victor sits behind his desk, his piercing eyes studying me like a chessboard piece.
“You’re stalling,” he says bluntly. “Every day you hesitate, you weaken your position.”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t ask for this position.”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “No, but it’s yours. Whether you like it or not, you have responsibilities, Alyssa. Your father built an empire. It’s time you took control.”
“You think I can just walk in and take over?” I scoff. “Xavier and Ethan won’t let me go that easily.”
Victor’s smile is cold. “Let them try. The family name holds more power than you realize. But if you wait too long, someone else will step in. And trust me, they won’t hesitate to kill you to get what they want.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. This isn’t just a game-it’s survival.
The streets are quiet as I leave Victor’s mansion, the night air sharp against my skin. I pull my coat tighter around me, scanning the shadows instinctively. I’ve learned not to trust the quiet.
As I approach my car, I hear a rustle-soft, barely noticeable. Then a flash of movement.
Before I can react, a hand grabs my wrist, yanking me backward. I twist, trying to free myself, but the grip tightens, and I catch a glimpse of my attacker’s face.
It’s Damien, one of Xavier’s most trusted lieutenants. His smile is cruel, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.
“Xavier sends his regards,” he snarls, slamming me against the car.
The impact knocks the breath out of me, but I refuse to go down without a fight. I kick out, catching him in the shin. He curses, but he doesn’t let go.
“You really thought you could walk away from this?” Damien growls, pulling a knife from his belt. “Xavier doesn’t like loose ends.”
The blade gleams under the streetlight, and for a second, I feel real fear-sharp and suffocating. I could die right here, and no one would know.
But fear gives way to rage. I refuse to be a victim. Not tonight.
I twist my body, using the momentum to slam my elbow into Damien’s ribs. He grunts, loosening his grip just enough for me to spin out of his hold.
The knife slashes through the air, narrowly missing me. Adrenaline surges through my veins as I duck and throw a punch, landing it squarely on his jaw.
Damien stumbles, but he’s fast-too fast. He recovers and lunges again, the knife aimed at my throat. I grab his wrist with both hands, struggling to keep the blade away.
Our breath comes in ragged gasps as we wrestle for control. The knife edges closer, the cold steel grazing my skin.
I can’t let him win. I twist his wrist with everything I’ve got, and the knife clatters to the ground. Damien curses, but before he can react, I slam my knee into his gut.
He doubles over, gasping for air, and I don’t hesitate. I grab the knife from the ground and press it against his throat.
“Tell Xavier,” I pant, my voice low and dangerous, “that if he sends someone after me again, I’ll send them back in pieces.”
Damien glares at me, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he says nothing. I push the blade a little harder, just enough to make my point.
Finally, he nods, his breath wheezing through clenched teeth. “This isn’t over,” he spits.
I release him with a shove, and he stumbles backward, clutching his side. He knows he’s beaten-for now. Without another word, he slinks into the shadows, disappearing into the night.
I stand there for a moment, my chest heaving, the knife still clutched in my hand. I’m alive-but just barely. And I know this is only the beginning.
As I climb into my car and start the engine, my phone buzzes with a new message.
It’s from Xavier.
“Next time, you won’t see them coming.”
My hands grip the steering wheel tighter, rage simmering beneath the surface. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up-but one thing is certain: Xavier has made a deadly mistake.
Because I’m done running.
And the next time he comes for me, I’ll be ready.