Eliana Carter POV:

I bound my ankle in an ace bandage, pulling it tight enough to numb the throbbing, and stepped into my highest heels.

Pain was just a signal to the brain, and I had learned to sever those connections a long time ago.

I walked into Tyler's estate for the after-party.

The music was thumping, a heavy bass that vibrated against my ribs, masking the erratic rhythm of my own heart.

I saw the looks.

Whispers traveled faster than bullets in our world.

Everyone knew about the pool.

Everyone knew about the stairs.

They were vultures, waiting for me to break.

Mason Riley intercepted me near the bar.

He was Jax's Consigliere, and the only man Jax even half-listened to.

"Eliana," Mason said.

He looked down at my ankle, noticing the slight limp I couldn't fully hide.

"You shouldn't be here."

I picked up a glass of champagne, the crystal cool against my palm.

"I'm fine, Mason."

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"Jax is out of control."

"He's breaking the code, Eliana."

"You need to go home."

"I'm not the one breaking codes," I said coolly.

Suddenly, the crowd parted like the Red Sea.

Jax walked in.

Catalina was on his arm, wearing a dress that cost more than my entire college tuition.

She saw me and smiled, a sharp, predatory thing.

Jax saw me and frowned.

He pulled Catalina toward the sunken lounge where the inner circle sat.

He sank onto the leather sofa, spreading his legs, taking up space like a king on a throne.

Catalina sat on his lap.

It was a public declaration.

In our world, you didn't parade the mistress in front of the wife.

It was a rule written in blood and honor.

Jax was burning the rulebook just to watch me choke on the smoke.

"Come join us, Eliana!" Catalina called out, her voice shrill over the music.

"We're playing Truth or Dare."

I didn't move.

I stood by the pillar, watching like a statue.

Someone spun the bottle.

It landed on Catalina.

"Truth or Dare?" a soldier asked.

"Dare," she said, her eyes locked on mine.

"I dare you to kiss the King of the Night."

She turned to Jax.

He didn't hesitate.

He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her.

It wasn't a soft kiss.

It was aggressive, messy, and loud.

He bit her lip.

She moaned.

The room went silent.

People looked at me, expecting tears.

Expecting a scene.

I felt nothing.

The part of me that used to care about Jax Little had died at the bottom of his stairs.

Jax broke the kiss and looked at me, challenging me.

He wanted a reaction.

He wanted me to scream, to fight, to show that I still belonged to him.

I took a slow sip of my champagne.

"Your lipstick is smeared," I said to Catalina.

My voice was steady, cutting through the quiet room.

"And Jax, you have cheap glitter on your face."

I turned to Mason.

"I'm leaving."

Jax stood up, pushing Catalina aside roughly.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, his voice booming.

"Away from the smell," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"Desperation is a very strong cologne, Jax."

Eliana Carter POV

I didn't go home.

Instead, I circled back to the library window of the Riley estate.

The window was cracked open just enough to ventilate the heavy stench of cigar smoke.

I heard Mason's voice drifting out into the night.

"You can't keep doing this, Jax. The Carters are going to pull the alliance."

"Let them try," Jax replied, his voice low and unbothered.

I heard the distinct clink of glass against glass.

"Eliana isn't going anywhere," Jax continued. "She's mine. She's been mine since we were five."

"You're humiliating her," Mason argued.

"I'm breaking her," Jax corrected him, the words sharp and precise.

I felt a chill settle into my marrow that had nothing to do with the night air.

"She needs to learn her place," Jax went on. "She thinks she's a partner. She thinks she has a say. Once I break that pride, she'll be the perfect wife."

He paused, likely taking a drink.

"Silent. Obedient."

"And Catalina?" Mason asked.

"Catalina is just a tool, Mason. A fun distraction until Eliana learns to heel."

I backed away from the window, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He didn't love me.

He didn't even hate me.

He viewed me as a mare that needed to be broken.

I walked the two miles back to my parents' house in a daze. My ankle was throbbing with a rhythm that matched the painful beat of my heart, but I barely felt it.

Jax was already waiting on my front porch.

He was leaning against the railing, casual and arrogant, holding a thick envelope.

I recognized the logo immediately.

NYU.

My acceptance letter.

He must have intercepted it from the mailbox before I even arrived.

"Thinking of running?" he asked, his tone mocking.

He held the letter up to the light.

"New York is Tran territory. You think you can just walk into the enemy's city?"

I snatched the letter from his hand.

He let me take it.

He was smiling, as if my resistance was adorable.

"You're not going anywhere, Eliana. My father already agreed to move the wedding up."

My blood ran cold.

"Two weeks," he said, stepping closer. "You'll be in my bed in two weeks, and this..."

He pointed to the letter in my hand.

"This will be ashes."

His phone rang, cutting through the tension.

He glanced at the screen. It was Catalina.

He answered it, his voice shifting to irritation. "What?"

He listened for a moment, his jaw tightening.

"I'm coming," he said.

He hung up and looked at me, his eyes dark.

"She thinks someone is following her."

"Probably a cat," I said, my voice flat.

He stepped into my personal space, smelling of whiskey and the cloying perfume I had smelled on him earlier.

"Don't leave the house, Eliana. I'll deal with you later."

He turned and walked to his car.

He drove away to save the damsel who was lying to him.

He left the real threat standing on the porch with a ticket to freedom in her hand.

He thought he had time.

He thought he owned the clock.

I went inside and locked the door.

I didn't pack clothes.

I packed the letter.

I packed my passport.

And finally, I packed the gun Uncle Sal had given me for my sixteenth birthday.

Eliana Carter POV

There was one last stop I had to make before the airport swallowed me whole.

The Old Oak stood at the edge of the Little estate, a silent sentinel guarding the creek. It was the sacred ground where Jax and I, at ten years old, had sliced our palms.

It was where we swore a blood oath to protect each other.

I needed to kill that memory before I could leave.

I pulled the pocket knife from my jacket, the metal cold against my feverish skin. I found the scar in the ancient bark easily enough. It had weathered with time, but it was still there.

*J + E.*

I drove the blade into the wood.

The oak was ancient, hard and resisting my efforts as if trying to protect the lie we’d carved there. I didn't care. I carved a deep, jagged line through the initials, sawing back and forth until bark flew like shrapnel.

Sap bled out from the fresh wound, weeping like a severed vein.

"Well, isn't this pathetic."

I spun around.

Catalina was standing there. She wasn't being followed. She had been hunting me.

Her gaze flickered over my shoulder, and a slow, toxic smirk spread across her lips. Jax was walking up the hill behind her, though he hadn't seen us yet.

She stepped toward me, lowering her voice.

"Trying to erase history?" she asked, her tone dripping with mock pity. "You can't erase what everyone knows, Eliana. He chose me."

She lunged.

It was a clumsy, flailing motion, but the ground beneath me was treacherous. She shoved me, hard.

I stumbled back, my bad ankle buckling under the sudden weight.

I fell heavily into the mud near the creek bank. The freezing slime seeped instantly through my jeans, chilling me to the bone.

Jax reached the clearing at that exact moment.

He saw me sprawled in the mud. He saw Catalina standing over me, breathless and feigning terror.

"Jax!" she cried out, her voice pitching into a calculated whimper. "She came at me with a knife!"

The damning evidence was still gripped tight in my hand.

I looked up at Jax.

I waited for the truth to matter. I waited for the boy who had bled with me on this very spot to reach down and pull me up.

Jax looked at the gouged, weeping tree. Then he looked at the knife in my hand. Finally, his cold eyes landed on me.

"You are a mess, Eliana," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

He reached out, but not for me. He took Catalina's hand.

He pulled her to his side, shielding her from the threat he believed I was.

"You are no longer my burden," he said.

The words hung in the damp air, heavier than the mud clinging to my clothes.

They were the sound of a key turning in a lock.

He thought he was discarding me. He didn't realize he was severing the last chain holding me down.

I watched them walk away. I didn't attempt to rise until they had vanished over the crest of the hill.

Slowly, I wiped the mud from my hands. I didn't cry. There were no tears left to shed for people who didn't exist anymore.

I walked to my car.

I drove to O'Hare in a trance. I pulled into the long-term parking lot, turned off the engine, and left the keys sitting on the dashboard.

I walked into the terminal.

I wasn't Eliana Carter, the Chicago Princess, anymore. I was just a ghost with a one-way ticket to New York.

And for the first time in my life, the silence in my head wasn't fear.

It was peace.