Alyssa’s POV
The suitcase was half-packed, clothes strewn across the bed in a chaotic mess that mirrored the state of my mind. My hands trembled as I zipped it shut, the finality of the act sinking in. This wasn’t just another meeting or negotiation. This was a reckoning.
A knock on the door startled me. I grabbed the gun from the nightstand, keeping it hidden behind my back as I moved cautiously to the door.
“Who is it?” I called out, my voice sharper than I intended.
“It’s Isabella.”
I exhaled, lowering the gun, and cracked the door open. Her face was tight with worry as she stepped inside, glancing around like she expected someone to leap out of the shadows.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, her voice low.
“No,” I admitted, tossing the gun onto the bed. “But it’s the only idea I’ve got.”
Her brows furrowed as she sat down, folding her arms. “This meeting could be a trap. We don’t know anything about this shadowy figure except that they’re powerful enough to pull strings on both Ethan and Xavier.”
“That’s exactly why I need to do this,” I said, pacing the room. “If I don’t, I’ll be crushed between them. I can’t keep running, Bella. It’s time to face whoever’s behind this and end it.”
Isabella leaned forward, her tone urgent. “But at what cost? What if they demand something from you that you can’t give?”
“Then I’ll figure it out,” I said, meeting her gaze. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
“You’ve barely made it, Alyssa,” she shot back. “And the people closest to you keep betraying you. Are you sure you’re ready to walk into the lion’s den alone?”
I hesitated, her words hitting too close to home. Jessie’s betrayal was still fresh, an open wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding. But this was bigger than me, bigger than my fear or heartbreak.
“I don’t have a choice,” I said quietly.
Isabella sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Then at least take precautions. Set up a contingency plan in case things go south.”
I nodded, appreciating her pragmatism. “I’ll send you the location once I get it. If I don’t check in within two hours…”
“I’ll know what to do,” she finished grimly.
Later that night, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the black leather jacket I’d thrown over a simple turtleneck and jeans. No jewelry, no distractions. Just me, stripped down to the essentials. My gaze drifted to the gun holstered at my hip and the knife hidden in my boot.
The message with the meeting location had come through an hour ago: an abandoned mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was almost poetic in its sinister simplicity.
As I slipped on my boots, my phone buzzed again.
Isabella: Are you sure about this?
Me: No. But I’ll be fine.
Her reply was immediate: Don’t die, Alyssa. I mean it.
I tucked the phone into my pocket and grabbed my suitcase. There wasn’t room for sentiment tonight.
The drive to the mansion was suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against your skull and amplified every doubt. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus.
When I reached the gates, they creaked open with an eerie groan, as if the place itself were alive and welcoming me into its jaws.
I parked the car, scanning the dark, sprawling estate. The windows were shattered, vines creeping up the cracked walls. It looked like a place where secrets went to die-or thrive.
My heart pounded as I approached the door. I knocked once, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the night.
It swung open almost immediately, revealing a man in a sharp suit with cold, calculating eyes.
“This way,” he said, his tone clipped.
I followed him through a maze of dimly lit hallways, each step heavier than the last. Finally, we entered a grand, decaying ballroom. At the center of the room was a single chair, facing away from me.
“Sit,” the man said, gesturing to a chair opposite the one in the center.
I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to run. But I forced myself forward, lowering into the seat.
The figure in the chair didn’t move.
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice steadier than I felt.
There was a long pause, and then the chair slowly turned.
My breath caught in my throat.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “This can’t be real.”
The man sitting before me was a ghost, a memory I’d buried long ago. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, and his piercing eyes bore into me with a familiarity that made my skin crawl.
“Hello, Alyssa,” he said, his voice smooth and calm. “It’s been a long time.”
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled, a cold, calculated thing. “And yet, here I am.”
I shot to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. “You faked your death? Why? To what end?”
“To this end,” he said, spreading his arms as if presenting the room itself. “Everything you’ve faced, every challenge, every betrayal-it’s all been part of my design.”
“Your design?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “You orchestrated all of this? Ethan, Xavier, Jessie-all of it?”
“Not all,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I’ve guided it. Shaped it. And now, it’s time for you to take your rightful place in the empire I’ve built.”
“Empire?” I spat, fury overtaking my shock. “You think I want any part of this? Of you?”
His expression darkened. “You don’t have a choice, Alyssa. You’re my blood, my legacy. Everything I’ve done has been for you.”
“No,” I said, my voice firm despite the chaos in my mind. “You did this for yourself. Don’t you dare pretend this was for me.”
He stood, towering over me. “You’re angry. That’s understandable. But in time, you’ll see that this is where you belong.”
“I belong nowhere near you,” I hissed.
He smiled again, and it sent a chill down my spine. “You’ll change your mind. Everyone does eventually.”
Before I could respond, the ballroom doors burst open, and armed men flooded the room. I instinctively reached for my gun, but my father held up a hand.
“Stand down,” he ordered.
The men froze, their weapons still trained on me.
“We’re done here for tonight,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But this is far from over, Alyssa. You can’t run from who you are.”
As his men escorted me out, my mind raced with questions, fear, and fury. The man I’d once mourned as a loving father was now my greatest enemy. And he wasn’t done with me yet.