Chapter 71
CADE
Our Apartment
The silence is a canvas, and the quiet is a deeper, more brutal kind of noise than any storm could ever be.
Bella still hasn’t moved, not even a breath of a tremor.
She’s a sculpture of grief on the couch, all sharp edges and delicate, curled-up lines.
A piece of art frozen in its own story, and none of us have the heart to look away.
Knox clears his throat. “Sabine… take the girls upstairs. Please.”
Sabine clicks her tongue, low and sharp. “I’m not leaving until Bella has returned. Not a second before.”
Briggs steps forward. His quiet, calm certainty is a weapon more potent than any shout. “I’ll take them,” he states, his gaze sweeping over the room. “I’ll keep them safe.”
Knox nods. “Thank you.”
The girls don’t move. They don’t want to leave her—hell, none of us do—but they know. This isn’t something you watch. Not if you care about her. What’s coming, it’s raw and ugly. The kind of pain that leaves scars you can’t see.
Laing’s the only one who can take her there. He’s built for it, calm and unflinching. He’s the kind of man who knows exactly how to pull the rage out of someone without worrying about what comes next.
I hate him for it. I hate that he is the one that is going to do this.
But, more than anything, I hate that I’m grateful he’s here.
Briggs appears in the doorway and holds a hand out for the girls. “Come on, Ellie. Haley.”
Haley brushes a kiss to Bella’s temple, whispering something none of us hear. Ellie squeezes my arm as she walks by.
The second the door clicks behind them, Knox turns to Khoza and Rez and gives them a quick nod. They move toward Lex. One to the left. One to the right.
He stiffens instantly. “The fuck is this?”
“Lex,” Knox says gently, “you can’t interfere.”
Knox turns to Tex next. “Stand by Cade.”
Tex steps forward without a word. Just stands at my side like a goddamn wall.
Knox breathes in deep. Looks at all of us before looking at her. “Okay.” He nods once, a curt and final motion. “Laing… you’re up.”
Before Laing can move, Roman steps forward from the corner, voice clipped and too calm to be anything but uneasy. “Are we sure this is the right plan?” he says. “There has to be another way.”
The room freezes. Every breath held.
Daniel turns toward Roman. His tone is bone dry, laced with steel. “Back down, Roman. This is family business.”
Roman’s jaw tightens. “I am her family, Barinov. She’s my daughter.”
Lex snaps before anyone else can. “Not right now you’re fucking not.” His voice is a weapon, sharp and explosive. The kind of sound that makes the air pull back.
“Right now, she needs us,” Lex growls. “Not some ghost with perfect suits and a twenty-year absence.” He takes a step forward, Rez and Khoza tensing instantly.
“So, unless you’ve figured out how to crawl inside her soul and pull the trauma out with your bare fucking hands, sit the fuck down and shut up. ”
Roman’s face tightens but he doesn’t move.
“And if you’re so desperate to help…” Lex adds, voice a dangerous whisper, “…go guard her friends with Briggs. That’s about all you’re good for right now.”
Roman doesn’t argue. Doesn’t defend. He doesn’t need to. He just stands there, outnumbered and outmatched, a ghost in the flesh who knows the fight was lost long ago.
Lex turns back to Bella, his chest heaving. Every shallow breath he draws is a fresh spark against his already very short fuse.
Knox lifts his chin. “Laing. Now.”
Laing moves slowly, like a man approaching an altar, or a bomb. He crouches in front of Bella, balanced on the balls of his feet.
“Hi there, Iz,” he murmurs, like they’re old friends catching up.
She doesn’t look at him. Just stares out at the skyline slicing through the dark. Lights twinkling like a world she can’t reach anymore.
Laing hums low under his breath as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
Lex stiffens behind me. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Laing doesn’t stop. His voice is calm, but every syllable drips with calculated chaos. “You want rage, Lex? You want to pull her out of the dark?”
He pops another button.
“Then you need someone who’s known her long enough to know just how to get under that perfect little skin of hers.”
Another button.
“Someone who knows just where the fire’s buried, and how to pour gasoline on it.”
Lex takes a step forward, but Rez moves fast and grabs him by the shoulder and yanks him back.
“Not now,” Rez hisses.
Lex’s jaw flexes so hard I swear I hear his teeth grind. But he doesn’t move. Not toward Laing, anyway.
Laing just smiles like a wolf about to bite. He slips his shirt off slowly like he’s daring someone to stop him.
He touches her. Softly. He brushes a hand down her cheek like he’s petting a memory. She doesn’t react. Then his fingers shift, hooking under her chin.
“Fucking look at me, Iz.” Laing jerks her chin up with a brutal force. Her head snaps back like a doll’s. Her eyes meet his. Blank. Empty.
He leans in, breath hot and venomous. “Daddy’s head in a box was all it took to break you?”
He sneers, withdrawing his hand from her chin as if he’d just touched something foul. “You’re weak. Pathetic. Just a scared little girl pretending she runs this empire. But you own nothing, Iz. Nothing.”
Still nothing. Not a twitch. Not a breath.
Lex snarls behind me, low and brutal. “I swear to—”
Rez grabs him by the collar, dragging him back just as Lex starts to step forward. “Lex, enough.”
I can feel the storm radiating off him.
The bastard, Laing, just smirks. He plants a hand on Bella’s shoulder and shoves her backward into the couch. Hard. She folds like paper. Limbs limp, eyes glassy. A puppet with cut strings. Then he swings one leg over her lap and straddles her.
“C’mon, Iz.” His tone all sing-song and sadistic. “You can’t play dead forever.”
His hands move again. Up her arms. Over her shoulders. Fingers dragging slow and wrong across her. He stops at the hem of her hoodie. “Take it off. Let’s see what’s left under all that grief.”
She doesn’t move. So, he does it himself. Grabs the fabric. Yanks it hard up and over her head in one swift, violent pull. He tosses it to the floor like garbage.
Still, she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just sits there, exposed and silent.
Laing stares at her. Waiting.
CRACK.
He slaps her across the face. The sound echoes like a gunshot. Her head whips sideways. A red mark blooms across her cheek.
But still, nothing.
I see Lex snap, Khoza and Rez slam into him again.
“Let me go,” Lex seethes. “I’ll kill him.”
Laing leans in again, breath thick with power. “C’mon, Iz. I know you’re in there. You wanna hurt me? Do it. You wanna scream, break, fight? Fucking do it. Give me the fire. Show them you’re still a queen.”
Bella just sits there, a portrait of exposure in her black bra and leggings, her pale skin an unnerving contrast to the blankness of her stare.
From behind me, a low, deadly sound tears from Lex’s throat.
It’s the kind of sound meant to kill. Rez stiffens, his entire body going taut and rigid in anticipation.
Beside me, Tex shifts, his weight poised, his eyes on me, ready to act if my own rage breaks loose.
Laing doesn’t even look back. He leans in. Trails his fingers down her collarbone. Over her ribs. Then down her arms, slow and sickening. “You remember how to feel, Iz?” he whispers. “Or did they bury that with your old man’s head?”
Lex is shaking. His fists are clasped so tight his knuckles have gone bloodless. “Touch her again,” he growls, “and I swear to God—”
Rez gets in his face before he can lunge. “Cool it,” Rez snaps. “Or you’re gonna go join Briggs upstairs.”
Laing’s hand drifts back up. Slides over the swell of her chest—just enough to spark a reaction. Just enough to make all of us want to kill him.
But she breathes. Not a gasp. Not a sob. But a sharp, deliberate inhale. The first real movement in two days. We all freeze.
“There she is.” Laing’s voice drips with something between mockery and obsession.
He crouches closer, fingers trailing the waistband of her leggings like he owns her. Like she’s just a shell to peel open. “Sitting there like a pretty little corpse. Still breathing, but barely.”
He brushes her hair behind her ear, taunting like he’s petting a doll right before snapping its head off. “You’re warm. That’s something, I guess. Can’t say how long it’ll last.”
“Enough!” Roman barks from the corner.
But Bella doesn’t move. Not even a flicker.
Laing straightens. Rolls his neck like he’s warming up for a fight.
“Fuck it.”
He grabs her. One hand clamped around her arm, the other locking tight at her waist. He rips her off the couch like dead weight and drags her across the apartment. Slams her face-first against the wall before anyone can move.
“GET OFF HER!” Lex lunges.
Rez and Khoza slam into him from both sides, locking him down. Nate rushes in behind them, arms braced against Lex’s chest as he thrashes like a wild animal.
Laing doesn’t even glance back. His body pins Bella to the wall. One arm cages her wrists. The other slides up, fingers wrapping around her throat.
“No daddy. No brother. No fucking Russian guard dogs. Just me now, Iz.”
He leans in, lips brushing her ear. “I’ll ruin you so thoroughly, they won’t recognize what’s left.”
Bella doesn’t respond. So, he presses closer.
“I will take every piece you’ve got buried in that twisted little head of yours. Rip it out. Break it in front of them. Make them watch while I make you beg.”
Still, no reaction. His hand dips lower, hovering just above the waistband of her leggings.
“You want to play dead? Fine. I’ll fuck the life back into you.”
Bella slams her head backward into his face. The crack of bone-on-bone echoes through the apartment. Laing stumbles, blood gushing through his teeth. Bella spins on him, eyes wild, chest heaving, fists already cocked.
He grins through the blood. “Finally.”
All hell breaks loose. Bella lunges with no hesitation, no strategy. Just rage. Pure, savage rage. She drives her fist into his jaw so hard his head snaps sideways. He absorbs it, laughs, and swings back, but she’s faster. Duck. Jab. Hook. Another punch to the gut.
Laing grunts, stumbling again. Wipes the blood from his mouth, still grinning.
“C’mon, Iz. Hit me harder. Show the room who you really are.”
She doesn’t answer. Just steps in and drives her knee into his ribs. Again. And again. He collapses to one knee, gasping. This isn’t a spar anymore, it’s a purge. She’s exorcising something, bleeding it out through her fists.
Laing grabs her leg, pulls her off balance, and slams her to the floor. The whole apartment shakes. He scrambles on top, forearm pressed to her chest.
“What do you think your little boytoys over there will think of you,” Laing growls, “after they watch me—”
She drives her elbow into his face. Blood sprays. She rolls them, slamming him into the ground. Climbs on top, one hand wraps around his throat, the other slams down into his ribs, once, twice, three times.
Laing doesn’t even fight back now. He’s not defending. He’s taking it. He got what he wanted. He pulled her back from the darkness. And now… he’s just letting her empty the rest.
Bella’s hand tightens around his throat. Her teeth are bared, eyes wild and burning. She leans down, voice shaking with fury. “Touch me again, Laing” she whispers, deadly calm. “And I’ll snap your windpipe and watch you die smiling.”
Laing coughs, blood bubbling at his lips, but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just… smiles. Like this was his sick and twisted master plan all along.
Roman takes a slow step forward. “Isabella.”
She doesn’t look at him. Her hand still tightly locked around Laing’s throat.
“This isn’t the fight that matters.”
Still nothing. Laing’s face is starting to turn red.
“Let him go,” Roman says, softer now. “Don’t give him the power to pull you under.”
Her fingers twitch.
“You’ve already survived worse, daughter.”
And for just a second, her hands loosen. Not much. But enough to know she heard him.
Knox steps forward. Voice firm, but kind, “That’s it, B. Let him go. You won, babe.”
Her eyes flick between Laing and Knox.
“C’mon, Bella. You’ve already proved your point, he’s still bleeding and you’re still standing. You got him. Now come back to us. To Ellie, to Haley. To Lex and Cade. To your family. We need you, Bella.” He looks at me and Lex. “They need you, Bella.”
She lets go. Laing chokes, coughing, rolling to the side. Bella stumbles backward, breath ragged, and hands shaking. She drops to her knees like the wind’s been ripped out of her. She’s breathing like she just crawled out of hell. Her chest is heaving. But she’s here.
She’s back.
Sabine steps forward like she’s been waiting on fate to cue her. Silent. Elegant. Ancient. She kneels beside Bella, not rushing, not speaking at first. Then she reaches out and gently takes Bella’s hand in hers.
“Bienvenue, ma belle. Welcome back, baby girl.”
Bella looks at her, dazed. Alive.
Sabine nods once, like she sees the flicker behind those eyes and it’s enough. “You still got a long way to go, Bella,” she says, voice low, thick with soul. “But you just took the first step.”
She brushes a thumb over Bella’s knuckles. “That rage you feel burnin’ inside? Don’t run from it. Don’t bury it. Hold it. Let it be your fire.”
She glances toward Knox, then back to Bella. “’Cause he’s not done yet. That boy’s still got work to do.”
Sabine rises slowly, never letting go of Bella’s hand until she has to. “Come now, baby girl,” she whispers, guiding her toward the couch like she’s walking her through the aftershock. “Let’s sit you down. One storm at a time.”
She eases Bella into her spot, tucks her hair behind her ear like a mother might, and steps back without another word.