Chapter One
MILA
The necklace was warm against my skin when I woke—an anchor and a warning.
My pulse kicked into high gear, as if my body knew sleep had been a mistake. Luke and I called a truce last night. Morning made it feel like a dare. I wasn’t running. Not this time.
The stairs groaned under my weight when I headed down for breakfast. Sunlight bled through slatted blinds, striping the worn, outdated living room in gold and shadow.
Our rental always smelled faintly of salt—California air sneaking through the cracked windows no matter how tightly you pulled them shut.
Mom was at the kitchen table, straight-backed, coffee steaming beside her.
Not the woman who used to work for King Enterprises in neat pencil skirts and polite smiles.
Now she wore Dunn’s polish as armor—silk blouse tucked into a charcoal skirt, blazer draped over the chair, heels already on.
Dark hair pulled tight from her face, gray-green eyes so similar to mine studying whatever glowed across her tablet.
Her eyes flicked up as soon as I entered. “You talked to Luke.” Not curiosity. A verdict.
My grip tightened on my backpack strap. “Yeah.”
Mom’s gaze lingered. “And?”
“He said he believes me,” I muttered, staring past her shoulder.
Her mouth thinned. She nudged the tablet aside with one manicured finger. “That’s not the same as safe.”
Heat climbed my throat. I pressed my palm flat to the table to ground myself. “I’m not lying to him.”
She leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice even but cold enough to cut. “Don’t confuse honesty with protection.” Her nail clicked against the table. “Dunn didn’t pull us back here out of mercy. They wanted leverage.”
A chill slid through me. “Have they asked for anything yet?”
“Not yet.” Her tablet chimed. She flipped it face down.
“But they will. And when they do, we won’t have the luxury of saying no.
” She pushed her mug away, the scrape loud in the quiet kitchen.
“The Kings are worse. They don’t need favors—they take.
And Lorne?” She leaned forward again, voice dropping lower, each word a warning.
“He’s the one we can’t afford to provoke. ”
I unclenched my fist and forced myself to meet her gaze.
The name clawed down my spine. I swallowed it and kept my voice even.
“I’m not the same person who left,” I forced out.
Because I wasn’t. Back then, I had stars in my eyes, head over heels for a future Luke and I had planned out.
Then reality crashed in, and I did what Mom and I always did—survive. And this time, I wasn’t going in blind.
Her nod was tight. Controlled. “Good. Because that girl won’t survive what’s coming.”
I couldn’t hold her stare. The necklace burned hot against my chest.
By the time I made it to Blackwood Academy, the sun had burned through the fog, leaving the air clean but bracing, eucalyptus and salt biting with every breath.
The courtyard buzzed—crowded benches, voices too loud, eyes shifting when they thought I wasn’t looking.
Elise Dunn’s laugh cut through the crowded space—too bright, too sharp. She stood on the steps, glossy as a poster, black hair sleek and shimmering in the light with that small closed-lip smile that made people lean back.
Logan lounged against the rail, one boot braced, watching me without pretending otherwise.
Nina glittered at Elise’s shoulder, all diamonds and deliberate sparkle. Tori’s strawberry-blond hair curtained her face. She missed a step and grabbed her slipping backpack, eyes on the concrete.
Our enemies weren’t gone, just waiting for the next hit.
Avery’s blond ponytail flashed as she cut through the crowd and slid in at my side, shouldering me a path as though it was muscle memory. “Rough morning?” Her gaze skimmed the hall, already running interference.
I shoved a book into my locker, voice clipped. “Overslept.” I didn’t want to get into the conversation with my mom this morning, or the fragile truce between Luke and me.
Her brow arched, but she didn’t push. She leaned against the metal, casual on the outside, but her eyes tracked the hall, ready to intercept whatever was coming my way.
I didn’t have to look to know Elise was still watching.
Or that whispers were already trailing us, carrying Luke’s name in their wake.
The necklace weighed heavy against my skin.
Last night’s kiss replayed in my head—a secret I shouldn’t touch.
The star pressed hot against my skin, useless as a shield and bright as a target.
Promises weren’t armor. Not here. Not when the Kings still sat at the top of the food chain and Dunn Industries had us pinned in place.
The war hadn’t ended. It had only drawn its battle lines deeper.