KIAH

The car that picked Kiah up was not a car.

It was a fortress on wheels.

Black exterior, bulletproof glass, a driver who never made eye contact. The second man in the passenger seat didn't bother hiding the gun under his jacket.

Kiah sat in the back, her hands folded in her lap, the diamond ring catching the light every time she moved.

She wanted to rip it off.

She wanted to throw it out the window and run.

But Arthur's words echoed in her mind.

"I know everything."

He knew about the message. Which meant he was watching her phone. Tracking her. Controlling her before she even stepped foot in his home.

The car pulled up to her apartment building, and both men got out.

"We will accompany you inside," the driver said. His voice was flat. Professional.

"I do not need an escort to pack a bag."

"Mr. Lucas insists."

Of course he did.

Kiah climbed the stairs to her third-floor apartment, the two men flanking her like guards escorting a prisoner.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The apartment looked smaller than it had this morning. Emptier. Like it already knew she was leaving.

"You have two hours," the driver said from the doorway.

Kiah did not respond. She moved to her bedroom and pulled a suitcase from under the bed.

Her hands shook as she folded clothes. She did not know what to bring. Arthur had said everything would be provided, but that felt like another way of saying she would not be allowed to keep anything of her own.

She packed quickly. Clothes. Toiletries. A photo of Ethan from before the trial.

She was reaching for her laptop when she saw it. An envelope on her bed.

She froze.

That had not been there this morning. She was certain.

Kiah glanced toward the door. The two men were standing in the hallway, their backs to her.

She picked up the envelope with trembling fingers and opened it.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

"He is not protecting you. He is using you. Get out while you still can."

Kiah's breath caught.

Someone had been in her apartment.

Someone had left this for her to find.

And they knew she was leaving today.

"Miss Taylor." The driver's voice cut through her panic. "Time is running out."

Kiah shoved the note into her pocket and zipped the suitcase closed.

Her heart was racing, but she forced her face to stay calm.

Whoever had left that message wanted her afraid.

Or they wanted her to trust them.

Either way, she could not show weakness. Not now.

She walked out of the apartment without looking back.

ARTHUR

Arthur stood in the foyer of his penthouse, watching the security feed on his phone.

Kiah was on her way up.

He had spent the last two hours making sure everything was in place. Her room. Her schedule. Her security detail.

And the cameras.

He needed to know where she was at all times. Not because he did not trust her.

Because he did not trust anyone else.

The elevator doors opened, and Kiah stepped out into the vast space.

She looked small against the high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. Fragile, even.

But her eyes were sharp.

Arthur pocketed his phone and gestured toward the hallway. "Your room is this way."

Kiah did not move. "I want to know who sent me that message last night."

"No."

"You said you know everything. So tell me."

Arthur turned to face her fully. She was still clutching her suitcase like it was a lifeline.

"What you want," he said slowly, "is no longer relevant. You signed a contract. That means you do what I tell you. You go where I tell you. And you stop asking questions I am not ready to answer."

Kiah's jaw tightened. "I am not your prisoner."

"You are exactly my prisoner." Arthur closed the distance between them in three strides. "The only difference is that your cage is gilded."

She stared up at him, her breathing uneven. For a moment, Arthur saw something flicker in her eyes.

Fear.

Good.

Fear would keep her alive.

"Follow me," he said, turning away before he did something he would regret.

Like telling her the truth.

KIAH

Kiah followed Arthur through the penthouse, hating every step.

The space was massive. Clean lines. Expensive furniture. Windows that overlooked the entire city.

It was beautiful.

It was suffocating.

Arthur stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.

"This is your room."

Kiah stepped inside and froze.

The room was larger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed. A walk-in closet. A private bathroom with a bathtub that looked like it belonged in a spa.

And bars on the windows.

She turned to Arthur. "You are joking."

"Security measures." His tone did not change. "This building has enemies. The windows are reinforced. The bars are precautionary."

"They are a cage."

"They are protection." Arthur leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "You will learn the difference."

Kiah wanted to scream. To throw something. To make him feel even a fraction of the helplessness she felt.

But she forced herself to breathe.

"Where is your room?" she asked quietly.

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how far I need to run if I decide to leave."

His mouth curved into something cold. "You will not make it to the elevator."

"You cannot keep me here forever."

"Six months." Arthur pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room. "That is all I need. After that, you can run as far as you want." He stopped inches from her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But until then, Kiah, you are mine."

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.

She hated it.

She hated him.

And she hated the part of her that was not entirely sure that was true.

Arthur stepped back. "Dinner is at seven. Do not be late."

He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Kiah stood in the center of the room, her chest heaving.

She pulled the note from her pocket and read it again.

"He is not protecting you. He is using you."

Maybe they were right.

Maybe Arthur was using her for something she did not understand yet.

But she had signed the contract.

And there was no way out.

Kiah spent the next hour unpacking in silence.

She hung her clothes in the massive closet, which already contained an entire wardrobe she had not chosen. Designer dresses. Shoes. Jewelry.

Everything she needed to play the role of Arthur Lucas's wife.

Everything except her freedom.

She was folding the last of her clothes when her phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

"Check under your bed."

Kiah's blood turned cold.

She stared at the message, her hands shaking.

Someone was watching her.

Someone knew she was here.

She knelt beside the bed and looked underneath.

There was a small black box tucked against the wall.

Kiah pulled it out and opened it.

Inside was a burner phone and another note.

"Use this if you need help. Do not let him find it. Trust no one."

Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might pass out.

Who was doing this?

And why?

She shoved the phone and note under her mattress and stood, her mind racing.

Arthur had said he knew everything.

But he did not know about this.

Which meant someone was working against him.

Someone who wanted her to have a way out.

Or someone who wanted to pull her deeper into something she did not understand.

Kiah sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling.

She had walked into a war.

And she had no idea which side she was supposed to be on.

ARTHUR

Arthur watched the security footage from his office.

Kiah had found the box.

He had known she would.

Whoever was trying to reach her was smart. They knew his security. They knew his patterns.

And they were moving faster than he had anticipated.

Arthur picked up his phone and dialed.

"She found it," he said when the line connected.

"Good." The voice on the other end was calm. Professional. "Then the trap is set."

"If this goes wrong....."

"It will not." A pause. "You just need to keep her close. Make sure she does not use that phone until we are ready."

Arthur ended the call and leaned back in his chair.

Kiah thought she was a pawn in someone else's game.

She was right.

But she did not know that Arthur was playing both sides.

And by the time she figured it out, it would be too late.

At six fifty-eight, Kiah walked into the dining room.

Arthur was already seated at the head of the table, a glass of wine in his hand.

He looked up when she entered, his gaze sweeping over her.

She had changed into one of the dresses from the closet. Simple. Black. Elegant.

She looked like she belonged in his world.

She looked like his wife.

"Sit," Arthur said.

Kiah sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap.

Silence stretched between them like a blade.

A server appeared and placed food in front of them. Kiah did not touch it.

"You need to eat," Arthur said.

"I am not hungry."

"I am not a suggestion." Arthur's tone left no room for argument.

Kiah's eyes flashed, but she picked up her fork.

Arthur watched her, studying every movement. Every flicker of emotion.

She was afraid. Angry. Desperate.

And she was hiding something.

"Tomorrow," Arthur said, breaking the silence, "we are announcing our engagement to the press."

Kiah's head snapped up. "What?"

"A press conference. Ten AM. You will stand beside me. Smile. Answer questions. Play the role you were hired to play."

"I just signed the contract this morning."

"And the world needs to know you are mine by tomorrow." Arthur set his glass down. "Appearances matter, Kiah. The sooner we look united, the sooner my enemies lose leverage."

"Your enemies." Kiah's voice was tight. "Who are they?"

"That," Arthur said quietly, "is none of your concern."

"It is if they are going to come after me."

Arthur's expression did not change. "They already are."

The words hung in the air like smoke.

Kiah went pale. "What?"

Arthur stood and walked around the table. He stopped beside her chair, his hand resting on the back of it.

"Someone wants you dead, Kiah," he said softly. "They have wanted you dead since the moment I chose you." He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. "And the only reason you are still breathing is because I am standing between you and them."

Kiah's breath hitched.

Arthur straightened and walked toward the door.

"Get some sleep," he said without looking back. "Tomorrow, the world finds out you belong to me."

He left her sitting alone in the silence.

And somewhere in the shadows, a phone buzzed with a new message.

"The clock is ticking. She has three days."

KIAH

Kiah did not sleep.

She lay in the enormous bed, staring at the ceiling, Arthur's words circling her mind like vultures.

"Someone wants you dead."

Not him.

Her.

She was the target. Not Arthur. Not his empire.

Her.

But why?

She was nobody. An event planner with a brother in prison and a father who believed the law was sacred.

What could she possibly have that someone wanted badly enough to kill her for?

At five in the morning, Kiah gave up on sleep and retrieved the burner phone from under the mattress.

She turned it on.

One contact saved. No name. Just a number.

Her thumb hovered over the call button.

Trust no one.

That included whoever had given her this phone.

She turned it off and hid it again.

At seven, someone knocked on her door.

"Miss Taylor." A woman's voice. Polite but firm. "Mr. Lucas sent me to prepare you for the press conference."

Kiah opened the door to find a woman in her forties holding a garment bag and a makeup case.

"I am Claire," the woman said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "We have three hours. That is barely enough time."

"Enough time for what?"

Claire gave her a look that said the answer was obvious. "To make you look like you belong next to Arthur Lucas."

Two hours later, Kiah barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

Her hair fell in soft waves. Her makeup was flawless. The emerald green dress Claire had brought hugged every curve in ways that made her uncomfortable. 

She looked expensive.

She looked like someone's possession, a gift wrapped for display. 

"Perfect." Claire stepped back, admiring her work. "He will not be able to take his eyes off you."

Kiah's stomach twisted. "That is not the goal."

"It is always the goal." Claire packed up her supplies. "A man like Arthur Lucas does not marry for love. He marries for power. And you, Miss Taylor, are about to become the most powerful piece on his board."

Before Kiah could respond, Claire left.

Kiah stood alone in front of the mirror, staring at the stranger looking back at her.

Arthur had dressed her. Styled her. Controlled every inch of how the world would see her.

And she had let him.

Because she had no choice.

She touched the diamond ring on her finger and felt the weight of the cage tightening.

ARTHUR

Arthur adjusted his tie in the mirror and checked his watch.

Nine forty-five.

Fifteen minutes until the press conference.

Kiah should have been downstairs by now.

He picked up his phone and called his head of security.

"Where is she?"

"Still in her room, sir."

Arthur ended the call and headed for the elevator.

He did not have time for resistance. Not today.

The press was already gathering. Investors were watching. His enemies were waiting for him to show weakness.

And Kiah was the only thing standing between him and total collapse.

He reached her door and knocked once.

No answer.

Arthur opened it without waiting.

Kiah stood by the window, her back to him. The emerald dress clung to her like a second skin, and for a moment, Arthur forgot why he was there.

She looked devastating.

She looked dangerous.

"We leave in ten minutes," he said.

Kiah turned slowly. Her face was calm, but her eyes were fire.

"I am not doing this."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "Yes. You are."

"You did not tell me someone wanted me dead." Her voice was low. Controlled. But there was rage underneath. "You let me walk into this blind."

"I told you last night."

"After I signed the contract." Kiah took a step toward him. "You used me. You knew I was in danger, and you used that to trap me."

"I used it to save you." Arthur moved closer, closing the space between them. "If you had known the truth before you signed, you would have run. And you would be dead by now."

"You do not know that."

"I know everything." Arthur's voice dropped. "I know that three people connected to your brother's case have died in the last six months. I know that someone has been watching you for weeks. I know that the moment you became my wife, you became untouchable to everyone except me."

Kiah's face went pale. "What are you talking about?"

"Your brother did not just witness a crime, Kiah." Arthur's eyes were cold. "He witnessed something that powerful people will kill to keep buried. And now that you are connected to me, they think you know what he knows."

She stared at him, her breathing shallow.

"What did Ethan see?" she whispered.

"That," Arthur said quietly, "is what we are going to find out."

KIAH

Kiah's mind was spinning.

Three people dead.

Her brother knew something.

Something worth killing for.

And Arthur had known all of this before he ever proposed the contract.

"You should have told me," she said, her voice shaking.

"If I had told you, you would not have signed." Arthur's gaze was relentless. "And you would be dead. Or worse."

"What is worse than dead?"

Arthur's expression darkened. "You do not want to know."

Kiah's hands curled into fists. She wanted to scream at him. To hit him. To demand answers.

But there was no time.

Arthur checked his watch. "We leave in five minutes. Fix your face. Smile. And do not make me regret choosing you."

He walked out, leaving her standing in the wreckage of everything she thought she knew.

The press conference was held in the main ballroom of Lucas Holdings.

Cameras. Reporters. Flashing lights.

Kiah stood beside Arthur on the stage, her hand resting in the crook of his arm because Claire had positioned it there.

She felt like a doll.

Arthur stepped up to the microphone, his presence commanding instant silence.

"Thank you all for coming." His voice was smooth. Confident. "I am here today to introduce someone very important to me. This is Kiah Taylor. As of yesterday, she agreed to become my wife."

The room erupted.

Questions shouted from every direction.

Arthur held up a hand, and the chaos stilled.

"We will take a few questions."

A reporter in the front row stood. "Mr. Lucas, this engagement seems sudden. How long have you known Miss Taylor?"

Arthur's hand moved to Kiah's waist, pulling her closer. The touch was possessive. Deliberate.

"Long enough to know she is the only woman I want by my side."

Kiah's heart pounded. She forced a smile.

Another reporter stood. "Miss Taylor, what do you say to rumors that this marriage is a business arrangement?"

Kiah froze.

Arthur's hand tightened on her waist, a silent warning.

She stepped closer to the microphone. "I say that people will believe what they want to believe. But I know the truth. And that is all that matters."

The answer was vague. Safe.

Arthur's mouth curved slightly. Approval.

Another question. "Mr. Lucas, how do you respond to allegations that your company is under investigation for financial misconduct?"

Arthur's expression did not change. "Those allegations are baseless. And they will be proven false."

The reporter pressed. "But three of your board members have resigned in the last month. Does that not suggest instability?"

"It suggests," Arthur said coldly, "that I do not tolerate weakness. Or betrayal."

The room went silent.

Arthur glanced at Kiah. "We are done here."

He led her off the stage, his hand still firm on her waist.

The moment they were behind closed doors, Kiah pulled away.

"You did not tell me your company was under investigation."

"It is not."

"That reporter-"

"Was lying." Arthur's tone was sharp. "Someone planted that story to make me look vulnerable. It is part of the same game. The same people trying to destroy me."

Kiah stared at him. "Who are they?"

Arthur's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted.

Something cold flickered in his eyes.

"Get in the car," he said quietly.

"What is wrong?"

"Now, Kiah."

She did not argue. The tone of his voice left no room for it.

They walked to the parking garage in silence. Arthur's security team surrounded them, their hands resting on concealed weapons.

The car was waiting.

Arthur opened the door and pushed Kiah inside.

She landed hard against the seat. "What is going on?"

Arthur climbed in beside her and slammed the door. "Drive."

The car lurched forward.

Kiah's pulse raced. "Arthur-"

"Someone just sent a message to the press." His voice was tight. Controlled. "They claim to have evidence that you were involved in your brother's crime."

Kiah's blood turned to ice. "What?"

"They are saying you helped him. That you are guilty. That I married a criminal."

"That is insane." Kiah's hands were shaking. "I did not do anything."

"I know." Arthur's jaw was tight. "But they do not care about the truth. They care about destroying you. And if they destroy you, they destroy me."

The car sped through the city, weaving through traffic.

Kiah's mind was racing. "Who would do this?"

Arthur did not answer.

His phone buzzed again.

He looked at the screen, and for the first time since she met him, Kiah saw something she did not expect.

Fear.

"What is it?" she whispered.

Arthur's eyes met hers, and the world seemed to stop.

"They just released a photo," he said quietly. "Of you. Meeting with someone two days before you signed the contract."

Kiah's heart stopped. "What photo?"

Arthur turned the phone toward her.

The image was grainy but clear.

Kiah. Standing outside a coffee shop.

Talking to a man she had never seen before in her life.

"I do not know who that is," she said quickly. "I have never met him. I swear-"

"I know." Arthur's voice was ice. "Which means someone is setting you up."

The car screeched to a halt.

Arthur's head of security opened the door. "Sir, we have a problem."

"What?"

The man's face was grim. "Someone just tried to access Miss Taylor's apartment. They left this."

He held out a manila envelope.

Arthur took it and opened it.

Inside was a single photo.

Ethan.

In prison.

With a red X drawn over his face.

And written across the bottom in blood-red ink:

"She has two days. Or he dies."

KIAH

Kiah stared at the photo, her brother's face marked for death, and the world tilted.

"No." Her voice cracked. "No, no, no."

Arthur snatched the photo back and handed it to his security chief. "Triple the guards at the prison. Now."

"Sir, we do not have jurisdiction...."

"I do not care about jurisdiction." Arthur's voice was lethal. "If anything happens to Ethan Taylor, I will hold you personally responsible."

The man disappeared.

Kiah could not breathe. Her chest was tight, her vision blurring at the edges.

"Ethan." She grabbed Arthur's arm. "They are going to kill him. We have to...."

"We have to think." Arthur pulled his arm free, his expression carved from stone. "Panic gets people killed."

"He is my brother."

"And he has leverage." Arthur's eyes were cold. "Whoever is behind this knows that. They know you will do anything to save him. Which makes you predictable. And predictable people are easy to control."

Kiah wanted to scream at him. To shake him. To make him feel something.

But he was right.

She was panicking.

And panic would not save Ethan.

She forced herself to breathe. To think.

"Two days," she said quietly. "What do they want me to do in two days?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. "That is what we need to find out."

The car pulled into an underground garage beneath a building Kiah did not recognize.

Arthur got out first and gestured for her to follow.

They took a private elevator to the top floor. No buttons. No stops. Just silence and the hum of machinery.

When the doors opened, they stepped into a sleek office that looked like a war room.

Monitors lined the walls. Maps. Photos. Documents.

A man stood at the center of it all, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

He was older than Arthur. Late forties. Sharp suit. Sharper eyes.

"Victor Hale," Arthur said. "This is Kiah Taylor."

Kiah froze.

Victor Hale.

The name was familiar. She had seen it in the news. A board member. Powerful. Connected.

And Arthur had brought her to him.

Victor smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Mrs. Lucas. Congratulations on your engagement."

The way he said it made her skin crawl.

"Thank you," Kiah said carefully.

"Victor is one of the few people I trust," Arthur said. "He has been helping me investigate the threats."

Victor gestured to the monitors. "We have been tracking communications. Payments. Patterns. Whoever is behind this is well-funded and well-connected. They have been planning this for months."

Kiah moved closer to the screens. One showed the photo of her and the stranger outside the coffee shop. Another showed Ethan's prison file.

"Who is the man in the photo?" she asked.

Victor glanced at Arthur, then back at her. "We do not know yet. But we are running facial recognition. We will have an answer soon."

"Soon is not good enough." Kiah's voice was tight. "They gave us two days."

"Which means they are rushing," Victor said. "Rushing means mistakes. And mistakes mean we can find them."

Arthur stepped closer to the monitors, his gaze fixed on one in particular.

A map of the city. Red dots scattered across it.

"What are those?" Kiah asked.

"Locations connected to your brother's case," Arthur said. "The courthouse. The law firm that represented him. The judge's office."

Kiah's breath caught. "My father's office?"

"Yes."

She stared at the screen, her mind racing. "You think my father is involved?"

"I think," Arthur said slowly, "that your father knows more than he has said."

ARTHUR

Arthur watched Kiah process the information.

She was smart. Smarter than most people he worked with.

But she was also emotional. And emotions made people weak.

He needed her focused. Sharp.

Not drowning in fear for her brother.

"Victor," Arthur said without looking away from Kiah. "Give us the room."

Victor nodded and left without a word.

The moment the door closed, Kiah turned on Arthur.

"You think my father is involved in this?" Her voice was shaking. "He is a judge. He has spent his entire life upholding the law."

"And the law is corrupt." Arthur moved to the desk and poured two glasses of whiskey. He held one out to her. "Your father has been a judge for thirty years. You do not stay in that position without making compromises."

Kiah did not take the glass. "He would never hurt Ethan."

"Maybe not intentionally." Arthur set the glass down. "But people like your father are useful to people like Victor. They make rulings. They sign orders. And they do not ask questions."

"Victor works for you."

"Victor works for himself." Arthur's tone was flat. "He has his own agenda. And right now, that agenda aligns with mine. But that does not mean I trust him."

Kiah stared at him. "Then why did you bring me here?"

"Because I need you to see how deep this goes." Arthur stepped closer. "Your brother is not in prison because he committed a crime. He is in prison because someone wanted him silenced. And now that you are my wife, they think you are the key to whatever he knows."

"I do not know anything."

"They do not believe that." Arthur's gaze was relentless. "And until we prove it, you are a target."

Kiah's hands curled into fists. "So what do we do?"

Arthur pulled a phone from his pocket. Not his usual one. A burner.

He held it out to her.

"You are going to call your father," he said. "And you are going to ask him about Ethan's case. Every detail. Every ruling. Every person involved."

Kiah took the phone with shaking hands. "And if he refuses to tell me?"

"Then we will know he is hiding something."

KIAH

Kiah stared at the burner phone like it was a loaded gun.

She had not spoken to her father since Ethan's sentencing. He had stood in the courtroom and watched his son be taken away in handcuffs.

And he had done nothing.

Because he believed the system was just.

Even when it destroyed his own family.

Kiah dialed the number and pressed the phone to her ear.

It rang three times before he answered.

"Hello?"

Her father's voice was the same. Steady. Authoritative.

It made her want to cry.

"Dad." Her voice cracked. "It is Kiah."

Silence.

Then, "I heard about your engagement."

Of course he had. The press conference had been everywhere.

"I need to talk to you," Kiah said. "About Ethan."

Another pause. "Kiah, I cannot....."

"Someone is threatening to kill him." The words tumbled out. "They gave me two days. I need to know what he saw. What he knows. Please, Dad. If you know anything....."

"I do not." His voice was firm. Too firm. "Ethan was convicted based on evidence. I have reviewed the case myself. There is nothing unusual about it."

"You are lying."

Her father exhaled slowly. "Kiah, you are in over your head. Marrying Arthur Lucas was a mistake. That man is dangerous."

"He is trying to help me."

"He is using you." Her father's tone hardened. "And if you are not careful, you will end up just like....."

The line went dead.

Kiah stared at the phone, her heart pounding.

"What did he say?" Arthur asked.

"He hung up." Kiah's voice was hollow. "But he was about to say something. Someone's name."

Arthur took the phone and checked the call log. His expression darkened.

"The call was traced," he said quietly.

"What does that mean?"

"It means someone was listening." Arthur's jaw tightened. "And now they know you are asking questions."

Before Kiah could respond, Arthur's phone buzzed.

He answered immediately. "What?"

His face went white.

"When?" A pause. "Are you sure?"

He ended the call and turned to Kiah.

"We need to leave. Now."

"What happened?"

Arthur grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the elevator. "There was an explosion at the prison."

Kiah's heart stopped. "Ethan...."

"He is alive." Arthur's grip was bruising. "But three guards are dead. And someone left a message."

"What message?"

The elevator doors opened, and Arthur shoved her inside.

He turned to face her, his expression colder than she had ever seen it.

"They said the next bomb is for you."

The car was waiting when they reached the garage.

Arthur pushed Kiah into the back seat and climbed in beside her.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Somewhere safe."

"Nowhere is safe." Kiah's voice was rising. "They just bombed a prison. They are going to kill me. They are going to kill Ethan."

Arthur grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Listen to me." His voice was low. Dangerous. "You are not going to die. I will not let that happen. Do you understand?"

Kiah stared at him, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why do you care?"

Arthur's eyes darkened. For a moment, she thought he might answer.

Instead, he let her go and turned away.

"Because you are mine," he said quietly. "And no one takes what is mine."

ARTHUR

Arthur stared out the window as the car sped through the city.

His mind was already three steps ahead.

The explosion was a message. A warning.

Whoever was behind this wanted Kiah to know they could reach her anywhere.

Even in the one place that should have been secure.

His phone buzzed again. Another message from the unknown number.

"You cannot protect her. She knows too much. And so do you."

Arthur deleted it and made a decision.

He had been playing defense long enough.

It was time to go on the attack.

He pulled up Victor's number and sent a single message.

"Find out who visited Ethan in prison. Every name. Every date. I want a list in one hour."

The response came immediately.

"Already working on it."

Arthur pocketed the phone and glanced at Kiah.

She was staring at her hands, her face pale, her breathing uneven.

She looked fragile.

But Arthur knew better.

Kiah Taylor was stronger than she realized.

She just did not know it yet.

And by the time this was over, she would have to be.

Because the people hunting her would not stop until she was dead.

Or until Arthur burned the world down to keep her alive.

The car pulled up to a private estate outside the city.

High walls. Armed guards. Cameras everywhere.

Arthur helped Kiah out of the car and led her inside.

The house was modern. Cold. Sterile.

A fortress.

"You will stay here until I deal with this," Arthur said.

Kiah turned to him. "You are leaving?"

"I have to."

"No." She grabbed his arm. "You said I was not safe. If I am not safe, then neither are you."

Arthur pulled his arm free. "I can handle myself."

"So can I."

"Not against this." Arthur's voice was sharp. "Stay here. Do not leave. Do not call anyone. Do not trust anyone."

Kiah's eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall. "Not even you?"

Arthur stared at her, and for the first time in years, he felt something crack inside him.

Something dangerous.

Something he could not afford.

"Especially not me," he said quietly.

Then he walked out, leaving her alone in the silence.

And as the door closed behind him, Arthur made a silent promise.

He would find whoever was behind this.

And he would make them pay.

Even if it cost him everything.

KIAH

Kiah stood in the empty house, her chest heaving.

She was alone.

Trapped.

And running out of time.

She pulled the burner phone from her pocket and stared at it.

One contact. One call.

She had no idea who was on the other end.

But she was out of options.

She dialed the number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then a voice answered. Low. Distorted.

"Kiah Taylor. I have been waiting for your call."

Her blood turned to ice.

"Who are you?"

A pause.

"Someone who knows what your brother saw. And someone who can keep you both alive."

Kiah's heart pounded. "What do you want?"

"Meet me tomorrow. Midnight. Come alone. If you bring Arthur Lucas, your brother dies."

"Where?"

The voice gave her an address.

Then the line went dead.

Kiah stood frozen, her mind racing.

She had twenty-four hours.

And a choice that would either save her brother.

Or destroy them all.