Mary slows to a stop a few feet away from the chair. Her expression shifts. It isn’t shock or confusion. A tired look settles over her face instead, like she has been waiting for this exact moment and already knows what she is going to say.
“It’s for the best, Brooke,” she says quietly. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”
The words don’t register at first. They don’t fit the version of her I know. The understanding hits anyway, hard and brutal. She isn’t confused. She knows. She has always known who John is, and she stayed.
“What are you talking about?” My voice shakes harder.
John walks into the room. He doesn’t look surprised to see me awake. He doesn’t glance at the restraints. He put me here.
“Brooke,” he says calmly. “You’re finally awake.”
I jerk against the cuff again, harder this time. “Where is Seth?”
The last image of Seth crashes through me without warning. I see him on the ballroom floor. I see blood spreading beneath him too fast. I feel Grant’s hands dragging me away while I scream Seth’s name until my throat burns. I still don’t know if Seth is alive, and the not knowing is its own kind of hell.
My stomach twists, and I fight down the nausea that rises with it.
Fuck, I’m pregnant.
My body has been drugged, restrained, and hauled across state lines. I barely had time to process it before everything collapsed. I found out, andthen the hotel turned into a slaughterhouse, with bodies everywhere, people screaming, people running, people hiding, people dying.
Seth and I barely got to talk about it. We didn’t get to decide anything. My mind keeps circling back to him on that floor and the possibility that if he’s gone, this baby is the only piece of him I have left. Losing him and losing this baby would destroy me.
John exhales slowly. “You don’t need to concern yourself with him.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I fight against the restraints. “Let me go.”
“Brooke,” he says sharply. “Enough.”
“Is he alive?” My voice cracks. “Is Seth alive?”
John pauses. The silence stretches long enough to make my anxiety peak even more.
“If he is alive,” he says evenly, “he’ll be charged with every murder at the Everspring. Ours and his included.” His gaze stays on me. “They’ll attach every kill tied to Stratford too.”
I glare at him, shock and anger rising fast.
“He’ll be taken into custody,” John continues. “He won’t remain there long. We have people inside. Guards, administrators, men who understand what loyalty demands.” His tone doesn’t change. “They’ve already decided what will happen next. He’s going to die publicly.”
My throat tightens, and swallowing feels difficult.
“Nick’s family wants their name restored, Amber’s family does as well.” He sighs. “This is how the Collective keeps itself clean. They give the public a single monster to fear. Then they remove him.”
He looks at me directly. “That is how the Collective functions.”
I shake my head. “What the fuck is the Collective?”
John drags a chair across the floor and sits like he’s about to lecture me.
“The Collective,” he says calmly, folding his hands together, “is not new. It didn’t begin with Grant. It didn’t begin with me.” His gaze stays fixed on mine. “It has existed for generations. Wealthy families. Political dynasties. People who have always understood how power actually works.”
My mouth goes dry again.
“We aren’t pretending the world is innocent,” John continues. “We see it as it is. Violent. Competitive. Unstable.” His voice remains calm. “Wealso understand that violence doesn’t vanish because certain people refuse to acknowledge it. Someone always directs it somewhere.”
I try to follow him, but my thoughts keep racing.
“I train our men,” he says. “I prepare them. I teach discipline, restraint, and obedience. Not everyone can kill on command. Not everyone can live with it afterward. I decide who can.”
