24. Layla
24
LAYLA
After fighting with your kidnapper-turned-housemate, nothing clears your head like a walk along the shore. At least, that's what I tell myself as I shut the cottage door behind me.
The walls have suffocated since my return, and now, after Cassie's latest mind game and Kaden's cold lecture, I need air, need space—but the moment I step outside, something feels wrong.
Kaden’s outfitted my property with the latest tech, relying on security measures like triggers, motion sensors, and possibly bombs to alert us to trespassers. I feel safe inside his fortress, knowing it spreads far outside the brick and mortar of my home, so that can’t be what nags at me.
As I walk, my eyes scan the shoreline, taking in the familiar sights—the weathered driftwood, the scattered seashells, the tufts of beach grass swaying in the wind. But then something catches my eye. At first, I mistake it for the random scribblings of a child or perhaps the meandering trail of a shore crab. But as I move closer, the lines take on a jagged, deliberate shape. Letters. Words.
WE FOUND YOU.
I blink, half expecting the message to disappear, but it remains crisp and clear. I take a step closer, my eyes tracing each letter. A sudden gust of wind whips across the beach, and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. The once-comforting sound of the waves now seems ominous.
I glance back at the cottage, its windows glinting in the sunlight. Inside, Kaden is likely still fuming while Cassie’s retreated to the top of the lighthouse. Ethan is trying to stay out of all of it by keeping to my room and drowning himself in pain pills. I don’t blame him.
Turning, I run back toward my home, my feet slipping in the shifting sand.
I need to tell Kaden. Need to warn him that despite his precautions, despite the layers of security and secrecy, the remaining Morelli family breached it.
But as I hurry across the sand, a faint buzzing sound catches my attention. At first, I dismiss it as the hum of a distant boat or the whir of insects. But the noise grows louder, closer, until it's impossible to ignore.
I scan the sky, searching for the source of the sound, and spot a small, sleek drone hovering above my cottage. My blood runs cold as the reality of the situation sinks in.
I shoot into a sprint, desperate to warn Kaden and Ethan. But even as I run past the lighthouse, I can't shake the feeling that the real danger isn't out here.
It’s already inside.
With one last glance at the drone, I burst through the door. “Kaden!”
Kaden’s head snaps toward me at the sound of my voice, where he was staring at the lighthouse through the front window.
“What is it?” His voice is low, but the tone is urgent.
“A drone,” I gasp out. “Outside, watching the cottage. And—a message. In the sand. They found us.”
Kaden responds with a closed-mouth smile. “That quickly? Good.”
He strides past me, and I follow him outside. The drone still hovers above, its sleek black body almost invisible against the gray sky. Kaden tracks its movements with a cold, calculating gaze.
This is the Kaden I first met—the lethal, unforgiving killer.
He reaches behind him, pulling a sleek black handgun from the waistband of his jeans. The metal gleams as he levels it at the drone. There's no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. Only a chilling, single-minded focus.
Cassie suddenly appears at my side, having silently prowled out of the lighthouse and toward us. “What’s going on?”
“Stay back,” Kaden orders. “Both of you.”
The drone buzzes closer, its camera swiveling to track our movements. Kaden's finger tightens on the trigger, his stance immovable. He doesn't flinch as the drone darts forward, a clear provocation. Instead, a slow, deliberate smile curls his lips.
Crack .
The drone explodes. Pieces rain down at our feet while Kaden lowers his weapon, his expression impassive as he surveys the destruction.
“You shot their invitation,” Cassie says. “Rude.”
Kaden kneels beside the mangled remains of the drone, his hands carefully sifting through the debris. He extracts a small, black device from the wreckage—a camera, its lens cracked and splintered.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” he asks her.
Cassie raises her hands. “I’m not stupid enough to put a drone in your face.”
Kaden studies her for a long moment. Finally, he nods, apparently satisfied with her answer.
He returns to sifting through the debris, his fingers closing around a small, rectangular object.
“What is it?” I ask, stepping closer.
Kaden doesn't answer. Instead, he stands, holding it up to the light. It's a photograph, edges singed and curling from the heat of the explosion. My breath catches in my throat as I realize what I'm seeing.
It's me—naked, bound, and beaten. My skin is mottled with bruises, and my hair is matted with blood. The picture is grainy, but the setting is unmistakable—the VIP suite at Siren's Call.
Bile chokes me as the memories flood back—the plush carpeting, the zip ties biting my wrists raw, the searing pain of each blow, the sickening smell of my own blood.
I force myself to look away, my stomach churning.
Kaden's jaw clenches as he studies the photograph. When he speaks, it’s with barely held in restraint. “Cassandra?”
Cassie’s eyes go wide with innocence. “I didn’t take any pictures. That was all them.”
Kaden moves his murderous stare to her, searching for any hint of deception. I stand frozen, my arms wrapped tightly around myself as if I can physically hold together the shattered pieces of my composure. All I can focus on is the photograph in Kaden's hand, the tangible proof of my darkest, most vulnerable moments.
Cassie's gaze flicks to me.
“I only did what I was taught,” she says, her voice soft, almost pitying.
The words hit me like a physical blow, and I flinch, my nails digging into the flesh of my arms.
“We need to go,” I say, my voice shaking. “Now. Before they send something worse than a drone.”
Kaden’s eyes meet mine. “No.”
“No?” I echo, disbelief coloring my tone. “Kaden, they found us. They know where we are. We're not safe here anymore.”
He shakes his head in a slow, deliberate motion. “Running won't solve anything. It'll only delay the inevitable.”
Cassie shifts her weight, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Listen to the man, Layla. He knows what he's doing.”
I shoot her a withering glare before turning back to Kaden.
“But the message in the sand, the drone, the photograph...” My voice wavers, the weight of each piece of evidence bearing down on me. “I can’t go back there, Kaden. Please, don’t let them take me again.”
Kaden’s expression turns hard, but it’s not directed at me. He fuels all that hatred toward the photograph still clutched in his hand.
“This photo reminds me how you wore pain like armor.” Kaden's voice carries deadly intent. “Now let me show you how to wear it like a crown.”
With his other hand, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter. The flame dances to life, and he throws it on the wrecked drone. The grass and dried leaves underneath it catch fire instantly, igniting with a whoosh , flames licking angrily at the mangled components.
The intense heat sends shimmering waves rising from the ground. I take an involuntary step back, shielding my face with my arm.
Kaden stands motionless, the flames casting a hellish glow across his features, painting him in shades of red and orange. He looks every inch the demon I once believed him to be.
Cassie sidles up beside me, her shoulder brushing mine.
“Looks like we're in for one hell of a show,” she murmurs, her voice laced with dark amusement before she saunters away.
I feel safe in Kaden’s presence. Protected. Like nothing can touch me as long as he’s by my side.
But that safety comes at a price. Kaden's walls are high and impenetrable, his emotions locked away behind a facade of cold detachment. He's a puzzle I can't solve, a labyrinth I can't navigate. And the more he shuts me out, the more I feel like I'm losing myself in the process.
“Kaden,” I venture, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the flames. “What is your plan?”
He doesn't answer immediately, his attention still focused on the burning wreckage.
Finally, he says, “I’m going to end this.”
There's a finality to his words, a grim determination that leaves no room for argument. But I can't shake the unease.
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” I press, taking a step closer to him.
A muscle ticks beneath his scar. “I have my ways.”
It's not an answer, not really, and frustration surges through me. I've trusted him this far, put my life in his hands time and time again. But now, with the threat looming closer than ever, his evasiveness feels like a betrayal.
“Dammit, Kaden!” I explode, my voice rising with each word. “You can't keep shutting me out like this! Not now, not after everything we've been through.”
He rounds on me, his eyes flashing.
“You think I'm shutting you out?” he growls, his voice low and rough. “I'm ensuring no one ever touches you again. No one but me.”
“By keeping me in the dark?” I counter, refusing to back down. “By making decisions for me without even consulting me?”
He steps forward, closing the distance between us until we're mere heartbeats apart.
“You want to know what I'm planning?” he asks, his voice a rumble in his chest. “I'm going to make them pay for what they did to you. For every bruise, every cut, every moment of pain they inflicted on you. And I’m going to keep this photo as a reminder of just how much they deserve to hurt.”
I turn to the side, hugging myself.
He catches my chin and forces me to keep looking at him. “Those men who helped break you—who stood there watching, who held you down? They're about to learn exactly why they call me the Scythe.”
“And Cassie?” I force myself to ask.
His jaw tightens. “She's my blood. My responsibility. But her men?” A deadly smile curves his lips. “They're fair game. And they will suffer for every mark on both my women.”