"What do you want?" The words taste like ash.
"I want my son to come home." The mask slips just slightly, revealing the steel beneath. "I want you to remember who you are, where you belong. This... rebellion of yours has gone on long enough."
I close my eyes, seeing Red's tearstained face, feeling her body shake with sobs against mine. Fifteen years ago, I let them destroy her and her grandmother. Now they're doing it again, more thoroughly, more viciously.
"If I do..." My voice cracks, betraying the cost of these words. "You'll leave her alone? Her friends? Their businesses?"
"When you come home, I imagine you'll find that many of these... unfortunate circumstances... will naturally resolve themselves." His tone is measured, careful. "Funny how things tend to stabilize when families are united. When sons remember their priorities." A pause laden with implication. "Twenty-four hours, Ares. After that, well... business can be so unpredictable."
The line goes dead, leaving me staring at the city below, the weight of my father's words crushing me like a physical force. The city lights blur as the truth hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. I have to let her go. She'd made it out once, built a life for herself free from my family's poison. And what did I do? I selfishly dragged her back into this hell, thinking I could have it all—her, my freedom, a life of my own choosing.
But I can't. Not without destroying everything she loves in the process.
I think of Red’s friends—Emma with her bakery, Brian with his nightclub, Amanda with her boutique. They were happy before I came crashing into their lives. A tight-knit family, supporting each other, thriving in their chosen paths. And I shattered that with my presence, my desires, my foolish dreams of escaping the Saint legacy.
"They deserve better," I whisper to the night air, my breath fogging in the cool breeze. "Red deserves better. She deserves to be happy, to live her art without fear of my family's retribution."
My chest tightens as I realize what I need to do. The only path forward that doesn't end with her entire world in ashes. It's not fair for others to pay the price for my freedom. I can't live with myself knowing their misery is my fault, the result of my selfishness in wanting to be with Red, in wanting a life outside my family's control.
Evelyn's face suddenly appears in my mind, her kind eyes now filled with disappointment. I can almost hear her voice, scolding me for the pain I've brought to her granddaughter's life. "You need to make this right, boy," she seems to say. And she's right. I do.
I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I'm the heir to Saint Industries. I've been groomed for this role my entire life. Maybe it's time I stop fighting it and accept my fate. The only right thing to do is to give Red back her life, even if it means I can't be part of it.
Turning back to the suite, my mind is made up. I know what I need to do. Ethan won't like it—hell, he'll probably try to talk me out of it—but I don't have a choice. Not anymore.
As I step inside, the weight of my decision settles on my shoulders like a lead blanket. It's the only way to protect Red, to give her back the life she deserves. A life free from my family's poison. A life where her friends can thrive, where she can create her art without fear.
A life without me.
I take one last look through the bedroom door, memorizing the curve of her cheek in the moonlight, the way her hand curls beneath her chin, the soft sound of her breathing. My heart fractures at the thought of never seeing her again, never holding her, never watching her paint with that fierce concentration that makes the world disappear.
But loving someone means putting their happiness above your own. And Red's happiness means freedom from the Saint family curse—even the part of it that loves her beyond reason.
I call my best friend, and the moment he picks up, I say with grim determination, "I need your help with something."
"Anything," Ethan answers without hesitation.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. "I'm going back to Los Angeles. Back to Saint Industries."
The silence on the other end stretches, heavy with understanding. When Ethan finally speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't." I look back at the bedroom door, at the woman sleeping beyond it who deserves so much better than what loving me has brought her. "This is the only way to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe."
Sometimes, the greatest act of love is letting go.
29
Ares
I'm staring out at Boston, taking in the view one final time. The city sprawls beneath me, all glass and steel bathed in the pink-gold light of dawn—beautiful and utterly indifferent to the way my world is ending. Soft footsteps behind me make my heart race, then plummet. Too soon. I'm not ready.
"Ares?"
Her sleepy voice draws me around, and my breath catches painfully in my chest. Even now, with exhaustion etched in the shadows beneath her eyes and worry lines creasing her forehead, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The morning light catches in her auburn hair, turning it to living flame—a sight I'll carry with me into the darkness ahead. My chest aches with the desperate need to memorize every detail of this moment, knowing it's our last.
Her eyes land on the large suitcase by the door, and I watch the questions form on her face, watch understanding dawn like a shadow across her features. She doesn't look at me when she asks, "What's going on? Are you and Ethan going somewhere?"
My throat tightens, words sticking like thorns. "I need to go somewhere."
