Chapter 63
CADE
The Obsidian
The first notes of “Nobody” by Dylan Scott drift through the speakers, low and slow. Bella freezes in my arms, eyes wide.
“Oh my God, Cade,” she breathes. “I can’t believe you remember this.”
I tighten my grip on her waist, guiding her into the sway. “How could I forget? This was the moment you taught me how to dance.”
She laughs under her breath, head shaking softly. “Yeah, I know. But still… you didn’t even want to be in Nashville. You and Cal were so mad at us.”
“Not at first,” I admit, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But I honestly ended up never wanting to leave.”
She pulls me in for a quick kiss before I spin her out and back into my arms. Her laugh curls down my spine. We keep moving to the rhythm, the world fading around us.
“Sweetheart,” I rasp, voice low against her temple, “I think Nashville was the first time I stopped seeing you as Ellie’s friend and started seeing you as you.”
Her gaze flicks up, soft and shining.
“I mean, I never acted on it or anything. I was unsure. Nervous,” I admit. “But I really think that night was when I first started to truly fall in love with you, Bella.”
She gives me that smile, the one that’s only ever been mine. “I love you so much, Cade.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” I press a kiss to her forehead. “When we’re finished, Lex and I need to give you your present.”
Her brows lift, just slightly. “My present?”
“We won’t be gone long,” I add.
When the song is over, I grab her hand, motion for Lex, and we lead her off the floor like gods claiming what’s ours.
The door clicks shut behind us, cutting off the thump of the bass and the roar of the crowd. It’s quieter back here, just the three of us and the aftershocks of too much dancing, too much adrenaline, and too much of her.
“So, this where I get ravished?” she asks with a smirk.
“Eventually,” Lex laughs behind her.
“But first,” I say, catching her hand, “you sit.”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing, but she listens. Bella drops onto the couch beside the mirrored wall, legs crossed, dress hitched just enough to wreck me. God, she’s beautiful.
I reach for the package I stashed earlier, carefully wrapped in black linen and tied with burgundy silk. “Close your eyes.”
She smiles softly, eyes shining. “You’re lucky I trust you.” And then closes them.
I lay the present on her lap. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Open.”
She unties the ribbon and unwraps the linen. Her eyes flutter open and then freeze. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t breathe.
The painting stares back at her—bold, intimate, raw.
It’s us. She’s front and center, naked in a sea of white sheets. Everything is black and white except her lips. Blood-red. Soft. Open. Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth caught in that breathless moment between surrender and command.
Lex is beside her on the left. His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to mark possession, his tongue brushing the side of her neck.
I’m on the right. My arm slung across her chest, shielding her from view. Protecting her. Claiming her. Kissing her cheek like a man who would kill for her without hesitation.
Three bodies.
One moment.
Eternal.
Her breath stutters. She lifts a hand, fingertips grazing the edge of the canvas like it might bite. “You painted this… for me?”
“For us,” I say softly. “But yeah. It’s yours.”
Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, catching the light like broken glass.
Lex leans in behind her, looking over her shoulder and lets out a deep breath.
“Babe…” he growls, voice thick. “That’s going over our bed.
Dead center. So, I can see it every single time I’m fucking the shit out of both of you.
” He steps around and pulls me forward, crashing his mouth against mine. It’s rough. Messy. Perfect.
Bella doesn’t move at first. She just stares at the painting like it’s breathing. Like it might speak before she can. A tear slides down her cheek, slow and silent.
“Cade…” Her voice shakes around my name. She rises, cradles the painting in both hands, and then looks up at me like I just gave her the moon. “I don’t have words. I love it. I love you.”
My chest tightens.
She sets it down, leans in and kisses me, her fingers curling in my hair like she never wants to let go.
When we finally break apart, I clear my throat and nod toward Lex. “Babe…” I say, still trying to catch my breath. “Show her your present.”
Lex grins sharp and proud, and pulls off the harness across his chest.
Bella tilts her head. “What are you doing?”
He unbuttons the front of his black shirt and pulls the fabric apart, just enough to reveal the fresh ink over his heart. It’s the same style as the one on her shoulder. Same wisps of smoke trailing behind the letters. Same bold, black lines that pulse with meaning.
But instead of a Z, it says Bella.
Simple. Permanent. Hers.
She gasps. Then covers her mouth with both hands in shock.
“Lex…” She walks toward him slowly, like she’s afraid the moment might vanish if she moves too fast. He doesn’t say anything.
Not at first.
“I didn’t want initials. Didn’t want anything vague. I wanted you. Right here.” He taps his chest. “Because that’s where you’ve lived since the second I saw you, malyshka.”
Bella blinks hard. Then reaches out and touches the skin just beside the tattoo. She looks up at him and the space between them disappears. Their lips crash, fierce, full, breathless.
Lex lifts her up, hands on her thighs, her dress slipping…
“Okay, Jesus Christ!” The door slams open, and Ellie stands there with a hand over her eyes. “Can’t you two sex gods wait like an hour? Maybe till you get home? Or even the damn car?”
Bella groans and lets her head falls against Lex’s shoulder. “El—”
“Nope. Save it. Come on, we need to go change. It’s time to make the Ice Bitch Witch of Moscow cry.”
Lex laughs, full-on and unfiltered. “What did you just say?”
Ellie grins, unapologetic. “You heard me.”
Bella slides out of Lex’s arms, smoothing her dress down, and turns back to both of us with a watery, wicked smile. “I love you both so much,” she says softly.
We head back to the club—Lex pulling his shirt closed again, me grabbing the painting to keep it safe. The music’s already fading from the song and the crowd’s resetting. The entire Legacy dance team is out there on the floor looking like they know exactly what’s about to go down.
Knox leans into the mic with that cocky little smirk he wears like armor. “And now, for their final performance… the goddesses of Wexley want to offer a very special dedication. This one’s for Karma.”
The lights shift in an instant and vivid teal, pink, and purple flood the room. Bella’s colors. Their colors.
Gasps ripple through the crowd as the Wexley Legacy girls, draped in white togas just seconds ago rip them off in sync, revealing a new layer beneath: yellow and orange fringe dresses all rhinestoned and gleaming.
“Guess were switching from Roman gods to Latin flair,” Lex laughs beside me.
Then the music hits, Taylor Swift’s “Karma.” A revenge anthem so pointed, it might as well come with a blade.
Everyone’s eyes are painted at the stairs waiting for The Trifecta’s entrance, but no one’s walking down the stairs. No, they enter from the side. Right by Irina’s table.
Bella in purple fringe, glitter clinging to her collarbones like stardust. Skin glowing. Eyes lethal. She struts out first, followed by Ellie in flamingo pink, and Haley in bright teal. Bold, sexy, and unapologetic. Designed for maximum impact.
“Damn, Rico,” Lex mutters beside me grinning. “Nice work, man.”
The girls don’t glance at Irina. They don’t need to. Their entire existence right now is a fuck you wrapped in silk, fringe, and rhinestones.
I glance toward the VIP section just in time to see Irina sit up stiff. Rigid. Furious.
Perfect.
Because I hate the way she talks to Bella. Like she needs to make make some insane choice between everything, Roman, The Barniovs, herself. Like our love—this chaotic, beautiful, dangerous love between the three of us—is a threat instead of something sacred.
I hope every beat of this song wrecks her.
Lex wraps his arms around me from behind, lips brushing my ear. “These girls making me a Nickelback fan and now a Swiftie. Goddamn.”
I nod, my eyes on Bella as she twirls, smiling like a secret that’s begging to be broken.
When the song talks about the different things that Karma is, Bella starts to move throughout the crowd while the rest of the girls keep dancing.
She works the crowd like she’s been in show business her entire life.
She can’t help but laugh and it takes my breath away seeing her this happy.
Seeing her truly in her element, it’s everything.
When it gets to the final part, the girls are all in the center of the dance floor again. The song says something about how Karma is some kind of queen and all the girls kneel at The Trifecta’s feet, creating a beautiful sparkling sea of yellow and orange.
And then when it says something about a guy and a screen, they all point to the screens behind the bar—where Obsidian has been flashing all night— it glitches once. Then it reappears as a massive photo. A photo my mom took. Bella, Lex, and me at Regionals.
“Damn, Bestie. Nice work Knox.” Lex huffs a laugh.
Then they all jump up and finish the dance. The room erupts into screams and applause. Cameras flash. I glance toward Irina, she’s frozen. Completely still. Her lips are white from how tightly they’re pressed together.
And right beside her, my mom is grinning from ear to ear. Like she’s been waiting for this moment all night long.
By the time Bella reaches us, her skin is flushed, but her smile is pure murder. She didn’t just dance tonight. She made a queen fall. Karma’s a bitch Irina, a bitch named Isabella Marie Blackwood.
“You guys see her face?” she pants, breathless from the routine.
“Pretty sure Mom cracked a tooth trying not to hiss.”
Bella grins and slides into my side just as her phone vibrates in Lex’s pocket.
His whole body stiffens. “What the fuck?” He pulls it out, reads the screen, and groans like it physically hurts him.
Bella lifts her brows. “Who is it?”
“Mortal Kombat.”
Her expression changes instantly. Curiosity, caution, and something colder underneath.
“Happy Birthday, Iz. Sorry I missed the party. Had an important meeting in Hong Kong—” He stops. Snorts. “Of course you did.”
“Lex,” I say, tired already. “Just finish it.”
He grits his teeth and keeps going. “But don’t think I didn’t get you something. Sabine’s keeping it safe for me… oh and tell your boyfriend I want a rematch.”
He flips the phone around to show us the location. “Warehouse 29-A. Brooklyn.”
Bella frowns. “Do you think he’s serious?”
“That motherfucker wants a rematch? I’ll give him one. I’ll tie him to the goddamn scaffolding and see how much blood he’s willing to spill for a round two.”
“Lex.” Bella’s voice is sharp. She takes the phone from his hand and stares at the address again. “What do you think it is?”
Lex shrugs, still fuming. “Could be a trap.”
“Or a gift,” Bella mutters. “He said he got me something.”
“He also said Sabine’s guarding it,” I say, already pulling up the map on my phone. “Which means it’s definitely not something legal.”
Bella looks up at me. That fire’s back in her eyes, even under the exhaustion. The mission in her blood. The pull she can’t resist.
“So?” she asks softly.
I tilt my head. “So, let’s go find out, sweetheart.”