Chapter 22
Ry
The room seems to tilt beneath my feet. "That's impossible."
"Is it? Hudson can look all he likes at Oliver Hart and he'll only find what I wanted him to.
But had he looked at Silas Oliver Holt, he would have found a completely different result.
" He laughs, the sound chilling. "You can't really be angry at Hudson for that.
My relationship with my father was very well hidden. "
My hands slip into the jacket, trying to come across as casual and non-threatening, I need more information. "Silas Holt is dead."
"No," he corrects, "my father is dead. Murdered by your precious twins." His expression hardens, something ugly flashing in his eyes. "I at least wanted to take after him, unlike the twins. I had started learning from him, you know, before they ruined it and killed him."
None of my research over two years ago mentioned that Silas had another son. But then there wasn’t much to link the twins to him either.
"If you're who you say you are," I challenge, "why the elaborate charade? Why not just kill us all?"
"Where's the satisfaction in that?" He moves closer, and I have to force myself not to retreat. "I wanted you to know me. To trust me. To like me." His smile turns cruel. "And you did, didn't you? Poor, eager Oliver, so desperate to please. So useful."
I think of all the information he fed us that led us exactly where he wanted us to go. The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies.
"I've spent years planning this," he continues, his voice taking on a fervent quality that reminds me unnervingly of Silas himself.
"Learning everything about you three. About how you stole what should have been my inheritance.
My father was building an empire, and you—" he points at me accusingly, "—you helped them destroy it. "
He’s delusional. Or he only knows what information Silas fed him, because the empire was never Silas’… it was David’s. But I doubt that matters.
Because I see it now—the family resemblance that was hidden beneath Oliver's carefully cultivated softness. The same bone structure, the same cold intensity in the eyes. How did I miss it?
"Your father was a monster, he deserved worse than the death we gave him," I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
Oliver takes another step forward. His jaw twitches, a muscle pulsing beneath the skin as he attempts to school his features into something controlled.
But his eyes betray him—cold fury burns there, turning them to shards of ice.
"It doesn't matter now. The twins are dead.
Hudson is dead. And you..." His eyes rake over me possessively. "You belong to me now."
I laugh, and even I can tell it sounds a little unhinged. The sound echoes through our apartment, bouncing off the walls like something feral and wounded.
"You stupid, stupid fool," I say, shaking my head as if I'm disappointed in a child.
"You've got it all backward. I never belonged to the twins.
" I take a step toward him, watching his eyes narrow in confusion.
"The twins belong to me. Always have. And you?
" I smile, feeling my lips stretch too wide.
"You're nothing but a pale imitation of a man who was already pathetic to begin with. "
His face contorts with rage, fingers tightening around the crystal tumbler. "You bitch. After I'm done—"
The soft ping of the elevator behind him interrupts his tirade. His head whips toward the sound, body tensing as he realizes he might not be as in control as he thought.
In the mirrored glass behind him, I catch the reflection of three figures stepping out of the lift—Rev and Kai, supporting Hudson between them. Their faces register identical expressions of shock as they take in the scene.
I pull the gun from my pocket and fire once, the bullet catching him in the shoulder before I adjust my aim and shoot the glass behind him. The massive pane shatters into a million glittering pieces, the sound like a cascade of diamonds hitting marble.
Before he can recover from the shock of the bullet, I launch myself forward, driving my boot into his chest with every ounce of strength I have left. The impact sends him stumbling backward through the shattered wall, his eyes wide with disbelief as he realizes what's happening.
For one suspended moment, he hangs in the empty air, framed by the jagged edges of the broken glass, the lights of the city twinkling far below. Then gravity claims him, and he's gone—plummeting to the unforgiving concrete below.
I don't wait to hear the impact. Instead, I whirl toward the men behind me. "You're alive," I breathe, the gun dropping to the floor as relief washes through me like a tidal wave. "You're all alive."
"Told you we'd be right behind you," Kai says, his usual smirk struggling to form on his split lip.
The three of them look like hell. Rev's right eye is swollen nearly shut, purple bruising spreading across his cheekbone.
Kai's split lip has started bleeding again, and there's a gash at his temple that's been hastily bandaged.
But it's Hudson who makes my heart stutter in my chest. He's conscious, but barely, his face ashen beneath his tan.
A fresh bandage is visible beneath his torn, blood-soaked shirt.
"You need a hospital," I say, rushing to Hudson's side as he sways dangerously between the twins.
"No hospitals," he growls, his voice weak but stubborn as ever. "Too dangerous."
"Our medical team patched him up at the warehouse," Rev explains, adjusting his grip to better support Hudson's weight. "We would have been here sooner, but this stubborn bastard insisted on coming with us rather than going to the safehouse."
"I'm fine," Hudson grunts. "Just a through-and-through. Missed anything vital."
"Refused anything but basic field dressing too," Kai adds, shooting Hudson a look of exasperated admiration. "No painkillers stronger than over-the-counter shit."
"I need to stay alert," Hudson argues, wincing as they help him to the couch. "Can't afford to be drugged up with everything that's happening."
"So you'd rather bleed out while fully conscious?" I snap, the fear I've been suppressing bubbling up as anger instead. "That's your brilliant plan?"
Hudson's eyes find mine, startlingly clear despite his condition. "Better than missing something important because I'm high as a kite."
I kneel beside him as Rev and Kai carefully lower him onto the couch. His breathing is shallow, each inhale clearly causing him pain.
"He also refused the IV," Rev says, his tone making it clear what he thinks of that decision. "Wouldn't let them put in the line."
"What?" I look up at Hudson incredulously. "You need fluids. You've lost too much blood."
"No needles," Hudson mutters, closing his eyes briefly as a wave of pain washes over him.
That's when it clicks, and despite everything—the trauma of the night, the betrayal, the violence—I feel my lips twitch with the beginning of a smile.
"Oh my God," I say, staring at him in disbelief. "You're afraid of needles?"
Hudson's eyes snap open, narrowing at me. "I'm not afraid of anything."
Kai snorts, wincing as the movement pulls at his split lip. "Tell that to the nurse whose hand you nearly broke when she tried to start the IV."
"I didn't—" Hudson starts to protest, then grimaces as the movement pulls at his wound.
"My big, bad security expert," I tease, relief making me giddy as I brush sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. "Fearless in the face of bullets and knives, but brought to his knees by a tiny needle." I shake my head in mock disbelief. "Your cock is pierced, for fuck's sake."
His eyes widen slightly, darting to the twins, who both smirk despite their injuries.
"That was different. I took a bullet for you," he reminds me, but there's no heat in his words. "A little respect would be nice."
"Oh, I respect you," I assure him, my voice softening as I take his hand in mine. "I respect the hell out of you, old man. But I'm still going to give you shit about this forever."
A ghost of a smile touches his lips before pain wipes it away. "Looking forward to it."
I look at the three of them—bruised, bloody, but alive. My family. My heart. The relief is so overwhelming I could drown in it.
Rev looks toward the now empty space in the glass wall and says, "Ummm so, what did we miss? Was I hallucinating or did I see you throw a not so dead Oliver out the window?"
"Technically I kicked him out, pun intended... Oliver was Silas's son," I tell them, the words tumbling out in a rush. "He orchestrated everything—the sabotage, Camden's betrayal, all of it. He's been playing us from the beginning."
"Not us," Hudson corrects, his voice stronger now. "Me. I should have seen it. Should have dug deeper."
I shake my head, sinking onto the couch beside him. "None of us saw it. He was good."
"Not good enough," Kai says with grim satisfaction. "Not anymore."
Rev shifts his weight, wincing slightly as he puts pressure on what must be an injured leg.
"We need to sweep all the properties," he says, running a hand through his blood-matted hair.
"Check every single employee, anyone who might have been working with Camden or Oliver—Silas—whatever the fuck his name was. "
"Tomorrow," I say, suddenly overcome with bone-deep exhaustion and a fierce need to reclaim what's ours. "We can do all that tomorrow." I push myself up from the couch, my muscles protesting every movement. "It's still Dead Devil's Night, and I should go back to the Playground."
I walk across the room to retrieve the SUV keys I dropped during my confrontation with Oliver.
Kai raises an eyebrow, his split lip twisting into something between a grimace and a smirk as he takes in my appearance. "You're still covered in blood, gorgeous."
I look down at myself, at the crimson stains drying on my skin, at Camden's blood splattered across my chest and face. I shrug, a cold smile spreading across my face. "What better time to make a statement than covered in the blood of our enemies?"