Chapter Two
LUKE
Practice had been routine—drills, conditioning, Coach barking orders until his voice went hoarse.
The locker room after was the same—Theo ran his mouth, Chase acted as though the world couldn’t touch him, and Jax threw jabs that were too pointed to be jokes.
Same rhythm. Same noise. Except it wasn’t.
Not with Elise prowling the halls earlier and Logan lurking at her side, muscle disguised by a grin.
And not with Mila, two rows over in class—a temptation I couldn’t reach.
Every time I passed her, I wanted to touch her—brush her arm, thread my fingers through hers. Anything. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. Keeping her safe meant distance, at least in daylight.
But after what she told me on the roof, distance was a lie. We were already tangled. No space was big enough to undo it.
The sky looked different from the pool deck. Too open. Too still. I sat on the edge, arms draped over my knees, sneakers planted on warm travertine that held the day’s heat. Underwater lights hummed, turning the pool into a pane of dark glass. The wind whispered through palm fronds overhead.
On the surface, peace. Underneath, nothing close.
Not when I could still taste her. Not when her voice looped in my head.
According to Mila, Darren Langley was dead. There was blood on King Enterprises property—Lorne holding the gun, Dunn pulling Adriana, Mila’s mom, back on a leash.
None of it added up. But it didn’t feel like a lie. Not from Mila. Her voice broke on his name. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking until I held them.
Except Langley isn’t dead. At least, that was what I’d been told.
My father brushed off his absence with a shrug—consulting overseas, a better fit for his skill set. I hadn’t questioned it. Why would I? People moved on.
Then Mila looked me in the eye and bared her soul. She gave me Lorne with a gun in his hand, the reason they’d vanished. Staying could’ve gotten them killed. And now they were back. Not because it was safe, but because someone decided they should be.
I dragged my hands over my face and exhaled. What the hell was happening? She swore he was dead. Dad swore he wasn’t. One of them was lying.
Adriana Callahan had worked for King Enterprises before her life went to hell.
Now she was at Dunn Industries—the company quietly buying pieces of us, snapping up properties and stock through shells, waiting for the right moment to squeeze.
Dad and my brother, Drew, were already running that play on the chessboard.
Countermoves. Mitigation. Reports. Their world—company strategy, boardroom fixes—not mine. Not yet.
But Dad had pushed at breakfast. “Sit in on the call tomorrow.” My fork paused.
Drew didn’t. “I’ve got it,” Drew said, steady as ever.
“He’s got early ice. I’ll walk him through the details on Sunday.
” Dad’s mouth thinned, eyes cutting to me, then away.
Drew held the stare until the tension bled out.
Relief slid under my ribs. He took the hit. Again.
But Mila. Her mom. Langley bleeding out on our property—that wasn’t theirs to fix. That was mine.
I tipped my head back. The stars lay flat above. Orion’s belt hung clean over the roofline. Weight pressed under my ribs. Not betrayal. Obligation. The kind you couldn’t outrun without hating yourself later.
I thought about Mila again on the blanket we’d laid out on the roof. Lips swollen. Chain catching the moonlight above her collarbone. Haunted eyes before she told me the truth. No secrets. No power plays. We don’t disappear on each other when it gets ugly.
She wasn’t just the girl who left anymore. Or the future I thought was mine until it slipped away. She was the key to something bigger—something people would bury bodies to protect.
And she trusted me. Maybe not with everything. But with enough.
I leaned back on my palms. Night slid cool across my forearms. If I closed my eyes, I could feel her weight in my lap again, the way she fit as though she’d always had a claim there.
Dangerous thinking.
We weren’t together. But not strangers either. There was no label for it, just emotions—tension, hunger, fractured trust. Too much of everything else. I was addicted to the contradiction.
Earlier, the school had handed me a reminder I hadn’t asked for.
During the lunch rush in the courtyard, Elise’s gaze had cut to Mila, tracking her every move as if she was already plotting the next strike.
Then during practice—ice still fresh, edges crisp.
Logan finished a drill and clipped my skate in the turn.
A nothing contact. Except his stick caught my shin just enough to bite.
He smiled—easy, harmless to anyone who didn’t know better.
I did. That wasn’t an accident. It was a warning dressed up as nothing.
Elise played angles. Logan pressed pressure points. Different tactics, same goal—waiting for the crack they could split wide open.
My reflection floated on the pool’s surface. Eyes darker in the blue. A stranger if I stared long enough. Part of me wanted to sink back into that rooftop kiss with Mila, forget the rest. The other part—the one raised where every glance was leverage, every handshake was a threat—knew better.
Theo was already in motion. I’d told him to keep Tori talking.
She was one of Elise’s closest friends, had that Dunn internship, and was into Theo.
She heard things from Elise. Saw the quiet stuff.
If there was a campaign building, if midlevels were moving, if personnel got shuffled—Tori would catch a piece of it without knowing why.
Theo could get it out of her without tipping her off.
We would meet, match it against what Mila gave me, then cross-check with what Drew flagged on the business side.
Find the thread. Pull until the whole thing unraveled.
I pushed to my feet and looked out across the water. The surface stayed calm. My face blurred in the dark sheet, a shadow carved across my jaw.
Mila was right. This town had a ruling order. And if she was in danger, then maybe it was my turn to tear it down.