Their Possession (Diamond Ties #2)

Chapter 1 Cloe

CLOE

The light above the dryer flickered, once, then twice.

My pulse boomed loudly in my ears and for a hopeful second I prayed it’d hold, until it didn’t, plunging me headfirst into the dark.

My pulse stuttered, my heart slamming against the insides of my ribs too fast to control.

But I kept myself steady, exhaling hard as that ugly yellow glow from the bulb sparked back to life once more.

You can do this.

I squeezed my eyes closed.

You have to do this.

There was no choice anymore, was there? I made damn sure of that.

There was no going back. No undoing what’d already been done.

Not the lies or the betrayal or that desperate longing inside me.

One that didn't belong anywhere near the Lawlor men, but somehow—like that fragile light overhead—it roared to life in the recesses of my heart and stayed there.

An ache tore down my knees from kneeling on the cold concrete. I winced and adjusted. Pain soaked through my jeans. I deserved it all. My hands shook so hard it took effort just to keep the ledger from slipping out of my lap.

It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

I hadn’t opened it since the night I ran. Since Wolfe looked away long enough for me to make the worst decision of my life. I took what was important to him—loyalty—and ripped it apart.

My fingers moved clumsily, tugging a thin shirt from the bottom of my bag—a soft, old thing I’d left behind once in Wolfe’s apartment. My fingers trembled fighting the need to lift it to my face and inhale the scent of him. God, I missed the scent of him like cedar, smoke, and want.

So much fucking want.

It made my throat tighten. I wrapped the ledger in it. Slowly. Shamefully. Each fold a betrayal. My phone buzzed on the concrete beside me.

Selene: We still meeting?

My thumb hovered. Then I typed:

Me: On my way.

I didn’t ask where. Or who. Or why it felt like my chest might cave in.

Instead, I pressed my palm against the panel I’d already loosened behind the dryer.

The drywall gave way with a reluctant crack.

I’d used this space before—for rent money I couldn’t explain, bills I couldn’t face.

But this wasn’t that. This was the end of me. The end of the woman I’d become.

I pushed the book inside. It caught at first. The corner snagging on something sharp. I gritted my teeth and shoved harder. It slid in with a dull scrape. And then it was gone. Just a shadow behind the wall.

I stared at the hole, breathing like I’d run five miles. Then I sealed the panel. And whispered, “Stay safe.”

I stared at the panel, breath caught in my throat.

Would he find it?

I imagined Wolfe standing in this room—silent, unmoving, eyes like storms. I saw him peeling back that drywall with steady hands. Saw the moment he realized I had touched what wasn’t mine. What never was.

He once told me, ‘If you lie, lie all the way. But don’t think I won’t know.’ But I hadn’t lied all the way, had I? No. I wasn’t even good at it. Just another failure in my life. Now that shit—failing—that I was good at.

Loser boyfriends.

Failing my friends.

Failing everyone really.

But only one who ever mattered.

Camille.

And now I was failing her all over again.

The shirt I wrapped the ledger in—it wasn’t just old. It was his. One I used to wear when I stayed too long, laughed too loud, slept too close.

I closed the panel again, twisting the screws like I’d done so many times before and rose, wiping my hands on my jeans like it could somehow make them clean.

My voice cracked. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t move. Not yet. Instead, I reached for my phone again. Opened the camera, then snapped a photo of the panel. Slightly ajar. Crude. Unmistakable. I opened my messages. Scrolled to a number.

Wolfe.

My thumbs hovered. Then typed: If you want it, come get it. Please. I attached the photo. Paused. Then hit send. I didn’t wait for the read receipt. Because if I did, I’d never leave this room, or this lie.

But I did. I turned and made my way out of the laundry, and the building taking my first real breath as I stepped outside. One call, I barely had to wait.

The cab smelled like cigarettes and old anger when I climbed in. I didn’t look at the driver, just passed him a few of the last crumpled bills I had. What was left of Barron’s envelope.

I hadn’t touched the money until tonight. I’d clung to it like maybe I wouldn’t fall all the way. But here I was. Spending it to finish what I started.

The driver asked if I was sure.

“Two blocks early,” I murmured. “Thank you.”

He didn’t argue. Smart man.

I stared out of the window at nothing really. Still, his face filled my mind those piercing dark eyes that seemed to know every secret I’d ever kept. Only he didn’t know this one.

The cab veered off, pulling up hard outside a darkened building. I muttered a, “thank you,” and climbed out.

The sidewalk felt wrong under my boots. Wet in places. Too slick. Every step echoed like it might bring the past down on my head. The hoodie swallowed me. Too big. Too warm. Too him.

I pulled it tighter. It didn’t help. The scent of Wolfe made my chest ache. Salt and smoke and command.

My phone buzzed again.

Selene: You close?

Me: Here.

I didn’t stop walking. Didn’t pause to breathe. The alley behind the café looked smaller than I remembered. Or maybe I was just bigger now—with all this fear stretching under my skin like wires pulled too tight.

The streetlamp buzzed once. Then again. Its light flickered like it didn’t want to bear witness. Shadows spilled across brick and rusted fence. My fingers curled into fists inside the sleeves of Wolfe’s hoodie. The fabric was soft. Familiar.

It made it worse.

I wasn’t just walking toward a mistake. I was wearing the memory of everything I stood to lose. And I could already feel the bruises forming. I didn’t see him at first. Not until the footsteps. Two sets. One too familiar. The other too silent. Then he stepped forward.

Callum.

His eyes were empty. Not guilt. Not anger. Just… vacancy. Like he’d already left the room. Left me. Again.

My feet stopped moving. The shadows shifted again. Another man stepped forward—broader, gloved, face hard enough to break stone. My stomach dropped.

“Where’s Selene?” I asked, voice tight, barely audible.

Callum didn’t answer.

The other man did. Scanned my hands, then shook his head.

“You were supposed to bring the book,” he snarled.

Every part of me screamed to run, still I said nothing, straightened my spine instead. He stepped into my space.

“Well, did you bring it?”

My mouth dried. My hands twitched at my sides. I cut a frantic glance at the man I’d once given my heart and body to. But like always, Callum gave nothing. Just watched as the bully moved.

His grip came fast—fingers clamping around my wrist like a vice.

“Where. Is. It?”

I yanked back. Twisted hard.

Callum moved then, but not to help me. He was all shadows and control, grabbing my other arm.

“Don’t,” he muttered. Not to the man. To me. “Should’ve brought the book, Cloe. Should’ve bought the damn book.”

His voice wasn’t angry. It was tired. Like this was already done.

I kicked. Screamed. Fought like panic was the only thing left in my chest.

“I HAVE IT OKAY!”

That stopped everything.

My breath tore from my lungs, hot and sharp. Desperation roared inside me. But it wasn’t desperation for me. It was to try to undo all I’d done—to protect the man I’d fallen for.

“I have it,” I panted. “I’ll give it to you. But you have to tell Selene—this is it.”

They said nothing. I swallowed hard.

“She’s to leave them alone. All of them. Barron included. I’ll show you where it is, I swear, just—this is it. No more threats, no more blackmail…no more,” I met his stare. “No more debts.”

The man stared at me like I was nothing more than paperwork. Then, behind him—red and blue lights. A cruiser slowed at the end of the block.

The alley froze.

I stopped breathing. His grip on my jaw tightened. Callum dragged me back deeper into shadow, his fingers digging into my shoulder.

The enforcer shoved me to the wall, breath hot against my ear. “Make a fucking sound and you’re dead, got it?”

I got it.

Real well.

We waited. My face smashed against the pitted brick wall so hard my teeth left indents in my mouth.

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

The light strobed across the alley. The cop car paused. Engine low.

I wanted to scream. I tried. Bucked hard as I could, thrashing my head to work out of his grip. My jaw wouldn’t open. Blood filled my throat. The car rolled on. Didn’t stop. Didn’t look. Didn’t save. And when the light vanished—

They started.

My attacker yanked me forward by the hoodie, dragging me forward.

Then he slammed my head into the wall. Once.

Twice. The pain exploded behind my eyes.

My cheekbone cracked against brick. Everything went white.

I felt the alley. But I saw glass. Wolfe’s office.

His hands braced on either side of my hips. His breath behind my ear.

You know who you belong to?

Gone.

I was back in the alley. Back in my body. And my body was breaking. The man threw me down onto the concrete. I tried to roll, but his boot caught my side. Agony ripped through me. A crunch.

I screamed. The sound bounced between the walls like it didn’t belong to me. He crouched beside me and drove his fist into my ribs. Again. Again. My body bucking under the blows. I curled. Tried to protect my stomach. My chest. My face.

He didn’t care. He was methodical. Punishment, not rage.

“You think they care you bleed like this?” he muttered.

His fist slammed into my thigh.

“I told you,” I sobbed. “I’d give it to you—I told you—”

He grabbed my ankle and dragged me across the pavement. Skin tore under my knees. My head snapped sideways, vision blurring.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” he said. “Should’ve died with her.”

Camille’s name flared behind my ribs.

I saw her. Lipstick smeared on a coffee cup. Laughter from a rooftop. Her voice whispering, You’re mine.

And then—

Pain ripped through my jaw as his boot connected again. My head snapped backwards. White was all I saw.

The world swayed. I screamed something. Maybe his name. Maybe hers. I kicked. My foot connected—barely.

He roared and grabbed me by the hair, forcing my head back until my neck screamed.

“You don’t get to make demands.” He slammed my back against the ground. Leaned close. “You get to bleed.”

My phone buzzed in my hoodie pocket. A second of hope bloomed—sharp and stupid. The man paused. Pulled it out with a sneer.

The screen lit up.

Wolfe.

He tilted it toward me.

“Is this who you were waiting for?” he asked. “Your fucking knight?”

I said nothing.

Couldn’t.

He pressed his thumb to the message. Read it silently. Then smashed the phone against the alley wall.

Once.

Twice.

Until it split open, plastic and glass exploding across the pavement.

“That’s how much he cares.”

Then came the next kick. It landed in the meat of my thigh, and I folded. He followed with another—to the back of my shoulder, then my ribs. I screamed, but it came out as a wheeze.

I tried to curl. He stomped on my hand. I felt the bones shift. Something roared white and hot. I begged without sound. Not for my life. Not for mercy. Just for it to end. My mouth filled with copper. I swallowed it.

Pain bloomed in bright pulses. My body was no longer mine—it belonged to the concrete, to gravity, to him. To regret. And he made sure I did. Fist. Elbow. Knee. A shadow stood frozen, just feet away.

Callum.

He didn’t move. Didn’t help. Didn’t look.

My lip split open. My eye swelled shut. My hoodie soaked in something warm and sticky and not just mine.

Still—

I whispered through the blood in my mouth, “Please. Just leave them alone.”

He spat beside my face.

“Them?” He snarled. “Bitch, you think they give a fuck about you? You’re already forgotten.”

He hit me one last time. The lights dimmed. The pain stayed. He left me on the ground. Didn’t check if I was breathing. Didn’t care.

They both disappeared into the dark, Callum still refusing to look back. Footsteps echoed. Then nothing. The silence that followed felt thicker than the blood in my mouth.

I didn’t pass out. I wanted to. Instead—I crawled. One elbow. One breath. One drag of a leg that wouldn’t move. I curled my throbbing hand to my chest. The other I reached out, digging my nails against the asphalt and with trembling muscles inched my way forward.

I reached for my phone.

I tried to grab it. Missed.

Tried again.

My fingers barely worked. I pressed it to my chest. Couldn't lift it to my face. Red and black danced in front of my eyes.

I kept crawling. Out of the alley. Into the open. Somewhere between two dumpsters, I collapsed against a wall and vomited. Blood. Mucus. Bile. I couldn’t even cry.

I pressed my cheek to the cold concrete. It was the only thing that didn’t burn. My breath rattled. My ribs screamed. My leg wouldn’t move properly. Just emptiness. Just numb.

I saw the stars above me, just barely. They didn’t feel real. Nothing did. Except one thing. His name. It slipped past my lips like a prayer. Like a curse. “Wolfe.”

Because he was the only thing I couldn’t scrub from my skin. And the only thing I was still trying to protect. Then everything went still.

Darkness found me, curled around the fallen rubbish. It was the only thing that did. A fragment of thought pushed in. The book was still safe. And they didn’t have the brothers. Not yet.

I lay there. I don’t know how long. Minutes maybe. A lifetime. The alley was too quiet. Too still. Like the air didn’t even want to touch me anymore. I rolled to my side, breath hitching. My arm dragged behind me uselessly, hand curled like it didn’t remember how to be a hand.

I pulled myself forward. Elbow, then knee. Elbow again. Each inch felt stolen. My left leg cruel and unmoving. Couldn’t feel anything but cold, shame, and the weight of the blood leaking through Wolfe’s hoodie.

I saw headlights.

For a second, I thought—maybe.

Maybe he came. Maybe he got the message. Maybe he—

No.

The car turned the other way. Tires whispered down wet pavement. The silence closed around me again. I reached for something glinting under the dumpster. My phone. Or what was left of it. Shattered screen. Battery blinking red.

I pulled it to my chest like it was sacred. Like maybe he’d still read it. Maybe he’d still know I tried.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

It wasn’t enough. But it was all I had. My head dropped to the concrete. The stars above me blurred. My breath rasped in time with the pulse in my ribs.

“If I die here,” I thought, “let it just be me. Not them.”

Then, softly—

“Wolfe.”

Not to summon him. Just to give him the last piece of me I hadn’t already destroyed. And everything went quiet.