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“Leave her alone. She needs space to mourn. She just lost her fiancé,” I hear Maxwell trying to defend me.

I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.

And I don’t need a man to protect me.

I run down the hallway to the farthest room from the stairs and peer inside. It looks to be an unoccupied guest room.

Thank god.

I open the door and slam it shut behind me. I find a lock on the door.

Perfect.

I lock the door and then walk to the bathroom where a large freestanding white tub sits. I flip the water on, intending to wash the pain away. But as the water runs, I collapse onto the floor and cry.

I’ve already forgotten how it feels to cry—to let warm, wet tears flow down my cheeks.

So many people came up to me apologizing for my loss, but none of them understand the depth of what I just lost.

Langston won.

I lost.

It’s over.

I hope Langston is in as much pain as I am. I hope he’s lying on a bathroom floor somewhere crying his eyes out with all hope lost.

But I don’t care. Even if he is, he won. He just doesn’t know it yet.

3

Langston

I shed one last tear.

In that tear, I feel everything. Its warmth and wetness fills the corner of my eye, fogging my sight of the ocean from Enzo’s balcony. It burns until I finally release it. It starts its quick journey rolling down my cheek until it hits the scruff on my chin. The tear slows and pinballs between each fiber of hair on my face until it reaches the edge of my chin. There it drops onto the deck where my feet stand.

That is the last tear. I’ve already decided that I can’t keep spending my days crying. I need to take action. My tears won’t save Siren. They won’t protect my children, my wife. They won’t make Liesel tell me the truth. They won’t put an end to my suffering.

So I stop crying.

I hear footsteps approach. Even though the man is capable of walking without sound, he lets me know he’s coming to talk.

I’m not sure I’m ready to talk, not after everything I’ve been through in the last few weeks, but Enzo Black won’t give me a choice. He’s one of my best friends. I’ve known him since we were kids. We’ve protected each other. He made me filthy rich. He’s my brother in every way that matters.

But right now, I don’t want to hear his opinion because I already know what it will be. Punish Liesel and then let her go.

Enzo leans on the railing next to me. He’s a patient man, more patient than I am. He could wait me out, and I’d start talking.

“Why?” Enzo asks, still staring straight ahead. If he doesn’t look at me, maybe I’ll answer more honestly. I haven’t had many reasons to lie to Enzo or any of my friends, but lately, I find myself lying more than telling the truth.

When I don’t answer, Enzo sighs and then turns and looks at me.

I stare back. His eyes are swollen, his dark hair disheveled, and he’s wearing sweatpants and a grey hoodie. He looks like he hasn’t gotten any more sleep than I have. He doesn’t look like a boss; he looks like a broken man.

“Why go after the treasure? Why not just let Liesel and whoever else finds it have it? We have more money than you could ever need. And if you need a raise, just ask.”

It’s not about the money. It was never about the money. I wish I could tell him the truth, but it would endanger him and his family. If I told him the truth, he’d murder me for risking his family—something I’d never willingly do.

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