My grandfather’s words fill my ears,Never leave evidence. Never leave witnesses. Never leave loose ends.
And Jade is the very definition of a loose end.
3
The stolen Valenne rests in the hidden lockbox installed beneath my back seat, and I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. Late-night streets blur past my windshield as I drive toward the last place on earth I want to return to.
Rockford Manor holds a cathedral of my regrets, and I’m walking back through its doors with nothing but a flimsy excuse and the hope that no one, especially not Ezra, will recognize the ghost who once warmed his bed.
My rational mind screams at me to turn around. Jade isn’t my problem. He’s an entitled rich kid who got himself in trouble. If I get involved, I risk losing my freedom and the quiet anonymity I’ve spent a lifetime building.
But his face haunts me, the sunken cheeks, the fear beneath his bravado. No one deserves that fate.
The mansion appears on the horizon, floodlights illuminating its stone facade against the night sky. My stomach twists as I approach the familiar iron gates, air bubbles of memory surfacing from the dark waters of my mind.
Ezra pulling me by the hand through those gates at midnight, both of us drunk on expensive wine and the thrill of sneaking out. His laughter bouncing off the wrought iron as we returned, dawn breaking behind us. His lips caressing my neck, whispering promises neither of us could keep.
Security cameras pivot toward me as I slow at the gate, and I drop my head so the long bangs of the wig hide my face.
The guard approaches, and I lower my window. “I need to speak with Aaiden Rockford. It’s regarding Jade Bustly. It’s urgent.”
He studies me with suspicion before he steps back to make a call.
I wait, fingers tapping the steering wheel.
The gates slide open with an electronic hum. “Park by the east entrance,” the guard instructs. “Someone will meet you there.”
I navigate the familiar curves of the driveway, the manicured gardens blurring past. The fountain in the center courtyard continues its endless cycle, water catching moonlight as it falls.
Thirty-one days I lived here, mapping its corridors and cataloging its treasures while pretending, or not so pretending, to be entranced by the youngest member of their generation.
I never expected to return.
I park where instructed and take a steadying breath before exiting the car. The manor’s east entrance is more subdued than the grand front doors, a practical concession to business visitors rather than social guests. Its efficiency suits my purpose.
A Beta in a tailored suit waits at the door, her posture rigid, expression unreadable. “This way, please.”
I follow her through the side entrance into a hallway lined with hidden security cameras. The still air holds the same traces of old books, polished wood, and the particular clean scent that speaks of money and power.
My body reacts before I can stop it, stomach tightening and breaths shortening, a shiver stroking up my spine as we pass the corridor to Ezra’s wing.
We ascend a flight of stairs, turn left, then right. The route is circuitous, designed to disorient visitors and provide multiple checkpoints for security. I pretend not to see the guards stationed at key junctions, tracking our progress.
“Wait here.” The Beta gestures to a bench outside a set of oak doors I recognize as Aaiden Rockford’s study.
She disappears inside, leaving me alone in the hushed corridor.
I remain standing, too wired to sit, and stuff my hands into my pockets to stop myself from fidgeting.
The doors open, and the Beta reappears. “Mr. Rockford will see you now.”
The study holds soaring bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. A massive desk carved from a single piece of ancient oak sits at the center, with tall windows at the back that overlook the sprawl of manicured grounds behind the manor.
Aaiden stands at the window with his back to me, silhouetted by the night landscape, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand.
“I understand you have information about Jade Bustly,” he says without turning, his tone cool.
“Yes.” I keep my distance, hovering by the door. “He’s being held captive at Halcyon Hall.”
