42. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
Sunny
The silence stretches between us like pieces of shattered glass—sharp and dangerous. Levi hasn't moved from where he collapsed in the chair behind the desk, one of his father's letter still clutched in his hand. I can see the paper trembling.
"I killed him," Levi finally says, his voice hollow. "I killed my father thinking I was breaking free. But all I did was make sure Garrett would always have..." He stops, swallowing hard. "Everything. Everything he needed to keep hurting you."
"You couldn't have known." The words surprise me. After everything I said to him in the kitchen, about my pain, about hating him, I didn't expect to be the one offering him comfort.
"I should have though. I knew my father. I knew what he was capable of." His eyes meet mine, raw with a pain that matches my own. "I should have looked deeper. Should have found these before." He gestures at the scattered evidence of our shared nightmare.
"Like I should have known my father was mixed up with yours?" I trace the edge of the old photograph. Three smiling men who destroyed everything. "We were both collateral damage Levi. Stuck trying to survive the messes our fathers made."
"I don't know how to fix this Sunny." He hangs his head, his voice filled with defeat.
"I don't think it can be fixed." I stand, needing to move, to breathe.
"Sunny—"
"But maybe," I cut him off, turning to face him, "maybe it's time we stop letting their choices control what happens next. Your father. My father. Garrett. They've done enough damage. Don't you think?"
Something shifts in Levi's expression. Not hope exactly—we're not there yet—but understanding. An agreement to stop the bleeding from our shared wounds.
"Whatever comes next," he says carefully, "whatever we do about Garrett—it needs to be your choice. Not his. Not mine. Yours."
It's a long way from trust. It's even further from forgiveness. But it's a place to start.
I sit quietly at the opposite end of the leather couch from Levi, watching Z pace in front of the whiteboard. He's scribbling strategies, ideas, plans—creating a layered overview of… nothing. Nothing with any substance.
The room feels crowded. Wolf and Chase are in the chairs by the fireplace, Colt perched on the desk, others scattered across the room. Levi leans against the wall, arms crossed, brooding.
My mind keeps drifting to those photos spread across Z's desk upstairs. Seven years of my life documented in grainy surveillance shots. Every move I made, every attempt at building something good for myself, Garrett was there in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.
"We'll need teams of at least three rotating shifts..." Z's deep voice fades into background noise as I study the complex web of notes and arrows he's drawn.
None of this feels real.
"The warehouse gives us a good staging area..." Z continues, but I barely hear him.
I can't stop thinking about Alexander Reeves orchestrating all of this from the beginning. Paying Garrett to murder my father. Offering up my mother and me like we were property to be traded. Making sure Levi never found out I survived that night.
"We'll need to get—" Z marks another point on his diagram.
My fingers absently trace the wildflower tattoo where it covers my collarbone. All these years thinking I was free, building a new life, and Garrett was right there. Close enough to reach out and grab me anytime he wanted. But he didn't.
"Stop." The word bursts out of me. Every head in the room swivels toward me.
"This won't work." I stand up, my legs shaky but my voice steady. "None of your planning matters. You're all missing the point."
"Sunny?" Levi's looking at me with a confused expression on his face.
"He's had seven years to come after me. Seven years of watching my every move. But he didn’t. I never had any clue I was being watched. He waited until Levi showed up at the club that night."
I gesture at the photos Z brought down. "Look at the pattern. Everything he’s done since Levi came into my life is about keeping us apart. Keeping me for himself."
"That's exactly why we need to..." Z starts but I cut him off.
"No. That's exactly why we need to give him what he wants. If I'm what he wants, that's what we need to give him."
The room erupts in protest. Levi surges to his feet beside me. "Absolutely not."
I force myself to meet his blazing green eyes. "This is the only way that makes sense. He wants me. Has always wanted me. But more than that, he wants to hurt you through me.”
"You can't seriously be suggesting—" Colt pushes off the desk.
"I am. Set me up. Have Levi there too. Provoke him. He won't be able to resist." My heart pounds but my voice remains steady. "You'll never find him otherwise. He's too good at hiding. Too patient."
"No." Levi's voice is hard. Determined. "It's too dangerous."
Z nods his head in agreement. "I won't let that happen Sunny."
"You just got done telling me it was my choice." I spin to face Levi.
He scrubs his face with his hands.
"Sunny's right." After a moment, Z's voice cuts through the noise. "We've been trying to track Garrett for years with no success. He's careful. Patient. The only time he's slipped up was when his obsession with keeping you away from Sunny overrode his common sense."
Z voice is confident. "She's right. We’ve been chasing shadows. Garrett only ever slips when his obsession overtakes his training. Sunny changes the equation."
"So, we dangle her like bait?" Wolf snaps.
"No," I say. "You set the stage. I write the script. I’m done hiding. We get to choose how this ends."
The room goes still.
Colt nods slowly. "It's our best shot."
Z studies me. "We’ll need layers of security. Backups. Traps."
They all look at me like I’ve cracked. Maybe I have.
The silence stretches as they absorb my words. I can see the calculations happening behind their eyes, weighing risks against rewards.
"She's right." Colt finally breaks the quiet. "It's the best shot we have at drawing him out."
Z studies me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "We'll need to plan this carefully. Set up multiple layers of security. Make sure nothing can possibly go wrong."
"I know." I meet his intense blue gaze steadily. "But it has to be me. I'm tired of being afraid."