46. Chapter 46
Victor
The house is quiet.
Grace and Lili are finally asleep, tangled together like ivy vines, both clinging to each other and to the illusion of safety. I should be with them. Should be taking comfort in the miracle of getting Lili home alive. Instead, I’m in my office, bathed in low lamplight, staring at a bottle of scotch.
It’s not even my favorite. Too smoky. But it burns clean and punishes the throat, and right now, I need to feel something sharp. Something real.
Hearing Lili whisper that she loves me was too much. The feeling is mutual, but I can’t say it. Not yet. So I slipped out once they were both sleeping, and now I’m sitting here unsure of what to do next.
The leather of my chair creaks when I shift, the quiet sound loud in the stillness. My body aches, not from injury but from tension. From the brutal restraint it took to keep myself together all day. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, exhale through my teeth.
The phone rings.
I don’t check the caller ID. The only people who would call at this hour are the other owners of the High Card.
But I’m met with a different familiar voice.
It’s Hunter Novak.
I straighten in my chair. Matteo or Owen are his usual calls when he needs to talk to us—not me.
“Mr. Novak,” I say. “How is your wife? Owen says she’s still in surgery.”
His voice is flat. Controlled. Dangerous in its restraint.
“I can’t leave her,” he says. “I haven’t stepped more than ten feet away from the OR since we got here. My staff doesn’t quite know what to do with me.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Did you need something, Mr. Novak?”
“I do. Mr. Serrano. I need you to understand something.”
His voice is calm. Too calm.
“You brought this to my door. You didn’t pull the trigger, but it’s your personal war with Phineas Draven that landed her on that operating table. It’s your fucking vendetta and rash decision to kidnap his wife that has doctors telling me she may never walk again. The surgery? It’s to remove a bullet near her spine. There are arteries, nerves, all kinds of delicate things in the way. She could die on the table, or she could live out her days in a wheelchair if they move a scalpel a millimeter in the wrong direction.”
I say nothing. I let him unload. Because if the bullet had hit Lili today, if she were the one in that OR, I wouldn’t be speaking either.
“So hear me now,” he says. “I’ve had a good relationship with the four of you. I’ve looked the other way when I probably should’ve looked closer. I’ve helped and protected where I could. But now? My wife might die. And if she does…”
His voice lowers. Colder. Final.
“There’s nowhere on earth you’ll be safe. I will dismantle everything you’ve built and put you in the ground beside Draven.”
My throat tightens, and my fingers flex around the phone. It’s rare I let someone get away with threatening me or mine like this.
“But,” he continues, “if she lives, I’ll give you a chance. One chance to make this right. You have seven days from this moment to bury Phineas Draven. Prison. Body bag. I don’t care. Just get him out of our lives. If he’s still walking free a week from now? I’m coming for him. And I’m coming for you.”
He pauses.
“And if you think I won’t take down your friends too? Think again. Matteo, Luke, Owen. Every last one of you. You started this. Clean it up.”
Another beat.
“And Victor? You better pray that fucking the wife of your enemy was worth it. Because as far as I’m concerned, she’s still married to Draven. And if my Trinity dies? I’ll bury her right between you and Draven. Grace is innocent in all of this, but I will leave her to mourn you both.”
He hangs up.
The silence that follows is louder than the call itself.
I slide the phone into my pocket slowly. Deliberately. My pulse thuds in my ears, but I’m steady.
Down the hall, the two women I love are sleeping like they’re safe.
But Lili’s not. I kidnapped her. I fell in love with her. And now her life is at risk again.
I rub a hand over my face, scratch my jaw. The beard burns my palm—too long, too rough. I haven’t shaved in days. Maybe I haven’t even looked at myself.
One week. That’s all the time I have.
One week to end Phineas Draven. To tie off this bloody, tangled mess or lose everything I care about. My friends. My club. My girls.
Grace will cry when she finds out. Lili will blame herself.
And me? I don’t get to fall apart. Not yet.
I rise slowly and cross to the window to look out over the desert skyline as I consider my next move. The scotch still waits on the desk behind me.
I leave it untouched.
My phone buzzes. An email from Owen.
Subject: Urgent Update on the Grace Situation.
I open it.
**I know there’s a lot going on right now, mate, but thought you’d want to know—Sampson Lindon killed himself six months ago. I’m looking into it, but Grace’s name was apparently in the suicide note. His wife Kara did not take that well.**
**Call you tomorrow. I’m at the hospital heading up Novak’s security for his wife. At least I still have a job.**
I reread it twice.
Sampson Lindon. Grace’s ex. One of the two from that long-ago throuple she rarely talks about.
Six months. Just enough time for grief to curdle into obsession. For Kara—the one who always made my skin crawl back in college—to unravel.
My blood runs cold.
I set the phone on the desk and sit. Pick up the scotch. Swirl it. Watch the liquid cling to the glass like blood on skin.
Because if Sampson’s gone... and Grace’s name was in that note...
We need to find out where Kara Lindon is.
Now.
Neither of my girls are safe. With that thought, I pray to every Catholic saint I’ve ever heard my mother invoke that I have what it takes to protect them.
I push away from the desk and step out into the hall. I glance at the stairs but head for the bedroom first, each step muffled against the rug. When I open the bedroom door, the soft scent of their bodies post shower hits me.
The room is dim, lit only by the moon spilling across the bed. Grace’s arm is draped over Lili’s waist. They’re wrapped around each other like they’ve always belonged that way.
I move to Grace first. Brush a kiss against her temple. It’s familiar. Comforting. Her softness feels like home. She murmurs something I can’t quite hear, her face shifting toward me before she stills again.
Then Lili. I stroke her hair back from her forehead, press my lips to her skin and breathe her in. She’s chaos and burning passion. A different kind of comfort. Together, they are everything I’ve ever needed.
I step back, lingering a moment in the doorway.
Then I close the door. Lock the image in my mind like a prayer, and stalk down the stairs and out to my car and slide into the driver’s seat. The leather is cold beneath my palms as I grip the steering wheel.
As I start the engine, I dial a number I hate calling.
“Victor? It’s nearly two in the morning. What’s wrong?”
“Hola, Papa. I need your help.”
I know, I know. It's rude of me to end on a cliffhanger like this. Will Trinity Novak survive a dangerous surgery? Can Victor keep his family in tact? You'll find out very soon! High Reward, the conclusion to Victor, Grace, and Lili's story will be out on June 13th ! I split it for the sake of my paperback lovers. If I'd kept it as one book it would be so thick that my only option would be a different trim size for the paperback and I'm not about to cause a riot.