"Ares..." My name comes out as a broken sob before she collapses against my chest.
"Hey, hey." I catch her, my heart thundering against my ribs. "What happened? What's wrong?"
She tries to speak but only manages another sob, her fingers clutching my shirt like it's the only thing keeping her upright. I guide her to the couch, feeling how violently she's shaking beneath my hands. Ethan appears with water, his face tight with concern.
"Amanda's store..." Red finally manages, her voice raw from crying. "Someone... broke all the windows. The store front windows are shattered. Everything in the window display was destroyed. Thousands of dollars of merchandise ruined." She draws a shuddering breath that seems to rattle her entire body. "And Brian... God, Ares…"
My blood runs cold. "What’s wrong with Brian?"
Her words come faster now, panic rising like a tide. “This morning they've shut Six-Pack down completely because of 'anonymous tips' about illegal activities. Nick and Cole are trying to handle it, but..." Fresh tears spill down her cheeks and her breaths come erratic, bordering on hyperventilation.
I cup her face, trying to ground her even as my own world tilts on its axis. "Breathe, Red. Just breathe with me. We'll figure this out."
"How?" She jerks away, her fingers raking through her hair, pulling strands loose from her braid. "We've been saying that for weeks, Ares! Weeks! And it's only getting worse." Her voice rises, fracturing around the edges. "Every day it's something new. Every single day they find another way to hurt someone I love."
She paces like a caged animal, each movement sharp and desperate. "We don't have time for 'figuring it out' anymore. Do you understand? Emma can't handle more weeks of this. Brian's about to lose everything he's spent years building. Amanda—" Her voice breaks completely. "What happens when they stop going after their businesses and start going after their families? Their children?"
I reach for her again, and this time she doesn't pull away. She collapses against me, her body shaking so violently I'm afraid she might shatter beneath my hands. I hold her tighter, as if I could absorb her pain, her fear, her rage.
"Red—"
"I thought I was strong enough," she whispers against my chest. "I thought we were. But they're too powerful, Ares. They have too many ways to hurt us. To hurt everyone."
Over her head, I meet Ethan's eyes. The grim resignation I see there mirrors the cold weight settling in my stomach. My best friend, who always has an answer, a plan, a way out—even he looks defeated.
This is my fault. All of it. My parents are systematically dismantling her world because I dared to defy them, because I had the audacity to choose love over duty. And now the woman I love is breaking in my arms, splintering under the weight of a war she never asked to fight.
I pull her closer, feeling her tears soak through my shirt, each sob like a blade between my ribs.
"I won't let them win." The words come out fierce, even as desperation claws at my throat. "I swear to you, Red. I’m going to fix this. All of it."
But as her body trembles against mine, as I watch Ethan's expression darken with the same realization taking root in my own mind, I know I'm making promises I might not be able to keep. My parents aren't playing chess anymore—they're burning the whole board, and we're out of moves that don't end with more casualties.
The truth settles like ice in my veins. There's only one way to protect her and everyone she loves. Only one currency my parents value enough to call off their attack.
The answer looms before me like a gathering storm, and I know—with bone-deep certainty—that I'll do whatever it takes to stop Red's world from burning, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness, my own freedom.
Even if it means losing her.
The moonlight spills across Red's sleeping form, casting silver shadows under her eyes where tears have left their tracks. She looks small curled up in my bed, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache. Her breathing has finally evened out, but the occasional hitch betrays the storm still raging beneath the surface.
I've held her for hours, memorizing the weight of her against my chest, the scent of her hair, the way her fingers clutched my shirt like an anchor in rough seas. Now, watching her from the doorway, the truth I've been fighting crashes over me like a tidal wave, inescapable and devastating.
This won't stop. It never stops with my parents. They'll keep coming, keep destroying, keep hurting her until they get what they want.
My hands shake as I ease the bedroom door closed. The click of the latch feels like a gunshot in the quiet suite. Helplessness and rage war in my chest as I stride through the living room, past the scattered evidence of our futile investigation, onto the terrace where the night air does nothing to cool the inferno inside me.
My phone feels like lead in my hand as I pull up his number. The puppetmaster himself. One ring. Two. Each second stretches like years until—
"I was wondering when you'd call." His voice carries that familiar note of smug satisfaction that makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
"Stop." The word comes out raw, stripped of pride, of pretense. "Whatever game you're playing, whatever point you're trying to make—just stop."
"Game?" He chuckles, the sound sliding like oil down my spine. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, son. I'm simply conducting business as usual."
"By destroying innocent people?" My grip tightens on the phone until the case creaks in protest. "Brian's business, Amanda's store—they have nothing to do with this."
"Destroying?" His tone carries wounded surprise, as if I've accused him of something unthinkable. "Ares, sometimes business deals fall through. Markets fluctuate. These things happen in the real world." A pause, calculated for maximum impact. "Some people simply aren't cut out to be real business owners. It's unfortunate, but that's capitalism."
