A cold blade of pain drives deep into my ribs. I don’t move. I don’t argue.
I did what needed to be done.
We’re steppinginto one of the Guild’s safe houses when a flash of blonde is hurtling towards me. My head snaps to the side, my cheek stings.
“Fuck you, Jace Ravencourt! I’m going to kill you. You mother fucking twat waffle!” Maeve starts hitting her fists against my chest. Felix runs up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her away.
“Let me go, Felix! I need to hurt this lying sack of shit!” She kicks and pushes at him. “Kellan! Bring me my bat!”
“No!” Felix grunts as she punches his side, “We need him to get Isobel back. Hurt him later.”
That stops her, and Felix sets her down.
“You’re on my shitlist. Good luck getting off that.” Maeve glares at me, flipping me off, and stomps off into the house.
Felix crosses his arms in front of me.
“I didn’t do that for you. I did it for her. She needs Isobel back.” Felix says, then turns and follows Maeve. Luca pushes past me and follows Felix without a word.
Noah closes the door behind us. “Lucian has already swept the house forany listening devices. We’re going to sit down and talk about this properly, like we should have from the beginning.”
Noah moves ahead, and I follow behind. We pass through to the back where a heavy reinforced door to the basement is open and waiting. He gestures me forward with a tilt of his head. I descend the stairs as Noah locks the door behind us.
The room inside swallows light. The air is cooler here, heavier, with a faint hum I can’t identify. It’s windowless, claustrophobic, but intentionally so—every wall is lined with a copper mesh that glints faintly under the single overhead light. The long table in the center is polished but austere, with chairs spaced evenly around it. Acoustic panels hug the walls like silent guards.
Lucian stands at the head of the table, his posture rigid and imposing. Felix and Kellan sit on either side of Maeve. Luca sits across from them, arms crossed, leg bouncing furiously. A laptop is set up next to Lucian, presumably for Noah, and at the other end, open for me.
The table’s polished surface reflects the sterile overhead light, making the copper-lined walls glint faintly. Everything is deliberate, designed to keep prying eyes and ears away.
“This room is SCIF. Everything is monitored, controlled, and secured. No signals get in or out. Phones, watches, anything capable of transmitting will be put in these Faraday bags.” He gestures to the bags in the middle of the table.
“I broke my phone and tossed it into the water,” I say as I take a seat.
“The walls are copper-lined to block electronic surveillance. The white-noise system masks anything that might carry sound. Nothing leaves or enters this room without our knowledge,” Lucian finishes.
Noah slides his phone into the last Faraday bag, closes it, then nods to Lucian.
For the next hour, I explained everything I’d learned about my father’s business.
The words taste like acid coming out of my mouth.
Names. Locations. Offshore accounts. Dummycorporations. Shipping routes. Which ports Gideon owns outright and which ones he controls through bribery. Which factions still owe him favors. Which ones fear him. Which ones would burn the world for him.
Every dirty detail I’ve gathered—every whispered conversation, every clandestine meeting, every coded message I pretended not to understand—I drag it all into the light. Including the missions he wanted me to sabotage.
Noah types silently beside Lucian, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. His expression never changes, but the muscle in his jaw ticks with every new revelation.
Felix goes still. Even his usual expression slips into something like disbelief.
Kellan swears under his breath more times than I can count.
Maeve looks sick. Because even though she’s not from our world, she’s smart and has learned quickly.
Lucian listens without interrupting. Not one word. Not one question. Just that cold, sharp stare.
Luca…
Luca won’t even look at me. His leg hasn’t stopped bouncing. His arms are tense, folded tight across his chest like he’s physically holding himself together.
