22. AVOWAL
TWENTY-TWO
avowal
Pippa
Water beats down over my shoulders, hot enough to sting, but I barely register the pain. I brace my hands against the tile and close my eyes, letting the steam fill my lungs. I can’t seem to convince my body that I’m safe.
Last night I was anything but safe.
I didn’t mean to put myself in such a dangerous situation—not again.
I hope Jules and Luna believe me. They seemed to. Doc finding Rohypnol in my system validated what I told them, at least.
I went to U Street to go clubbing, to get out of my head. I wanted loud music and flashing lights—anything to help me forget the strong arms and warm eyes of the two men I couldn’t have.
Two men who found their way to each other and away from me.
I barely remember making it from the club to the biker bar.
I must have been drugged at the club. How could I have been so dumb?
So careless? That thought keeps looping through my brain, no matter how many times I remind myself I’m here now.
Alive. Clean. Wrapped in borrowed comfort inside the Luciano mansion of all places.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
I see flashes of last night when I close my eyes. Hands that weren’t mine, the sour taste at the back of my throat, the way time fractured. I remember thinking, dimly, distantly, that maybe this was it—that I’d made one mistake too many.
And then there were voices. Familiar ones. Arms around me. Hudson. Jules. Luna.
Even Enzo.
They came for me.
The water runs as gratitude crashes over me all over again, sharp enough to hurt.
They found me. They pulled me back to safety, back to myself. I don’t know how to reconcile that kind of loyalty with the danger that very loyalty keeps dragging them into.
Or the fact that Enzo made it very clear he doesn’t want me around anymore only few days ago.
I shut off the water and step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a thick towel. My hands tremble as I dress. Not with fear, not exactly—anticipation, dread.
They’re waiting for me downstairs.
All of them.
Jules and Luna told me what I had said in the van while I was drugged. Things I didn’t mean to give voice to, didn’t intend to expose. I put myself and my sisters at risk.
I guess Enzo and Hudson have tried to get Luna and Jules to tell them more today, to explain why I was talking about Maribel Island, about Troy, and about doctors I didn’t want to see again.
My sisters haven’t shared anything further. They told them it was up to me what to reveal, but both made it clear to me they think it’s time to tell the truth.
I can’t imagine it. I can’t see myself saying the words.
We agreed from the very beginning that no one could ever know.
Do I think we can trust them? Maybe.
Do I know they will never look at us the same again? Absolutely.
Knowing Jared Whiteman’s blood runs in our veins…why would they want anything to do with us after they find out?
At this point, what does it matter? Enzo already wants nothing to do with me. Eva is at risk because of our actions. Hudson put his life on the line, again, last night.
I can confess, they will agree they want nothing to do with us, and my sisters and I can move on. It’s for the best.
I finish dressing just as there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Jane?” Hudson’s voice. Gentle. Careful.
I open it and he’s there. He looks tired and relieved and impossibly familiar. The sight of him hits me harder than I expect. My chest tightens.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hey.”
He pulls me into a hug before I can overthink it. It’s warm. Solid. Real. I let myself lean into it a moment longer than necessary.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Thank you for coming,” I say, my voice rough. “For everything you did last night.”
He pulls back just enough to offer me a kind smile. “It was the least I could do after you saved my life last week.”
I offer a small smile, and we just look at each other for a few moments.
“Honestly, Pippa, it wasn’t a question. You know that, right?”
I offer a small smile and say thank you.
“So, Marco is serving dinner and everyone is waiting for us.” He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask questions. Just offers me his arm to escort me downstairs. Hudson’s presence grounds me as we walk.
Dinner is set when we enter the dining room. Enzo sits at one end of the table, Eva at the other. Jules and Luna are side by side, across from the seats Hudson and I take. The symmetry feels intentional. Unavoidable.
Plates are served. Polite conversation fills the air for a few minutes—compliments about the food, small observations—normalcy stretched thin over something much heavier. Eventually, Chef Marco retreats to the kitchen.
Hudson squeezes my hand under the table. “If you’re ready,” he says quietly. He doesn’t let go.
My heart pounds so loudly in my ears, I’m sure they can all hear it, too. I clear my throat. “First, thank you—all of you—for coming to get me.” My throat tightens. “I’m sorry I put myself in that situation.”
“No one here blames you,” Eva says firmly.
Enzo leans forward slightly. “But we do have questions.” His tone is careful, measured.
“You said some things about Maribel Island. I can make some guesses, but I’d rather hear the truth.
” He pauses, then adds, “I know the six of us haven’t exactly had the smoothest start, but there’s a lot not being said.
And I think it’s time we put all the cards on the table.
That way, we can decide how we move forward. ”
Luna exhales slowly. “We didn’t want to drag you all further in—not after Hudson was hurt, not with Eva being targeted as the leading suspect behind TruthDrop.”
“If I tell you,” I say quietly, “there is no going back. I don’t say that to be dramatic. I promise, it has been safer for you not to know. No one in the world knows the truth but the three of us.”
Hudson’s hand tightens around mine. “We need to know.”
Eva nods. “It seems to me we are already in danger. I’d like to understand why.”
Silence stretches.
I take a breath, then another.
“Jules, Luna, and I don’t only work together… We are sisters,” I say.
A moment passes. No one speaks.
“Jared Whiteman was our father,” I continue.
The room stills.
Enzo’s face drains of color.
Hudson’s hand twitches in mine.
Eva’s jaw drops. She is the first to respond with knit brows. “I didn’t know Jared Whiteman had children.”
“Nobody does,” Luna says.
“We were born on Maribel Island,” Jules explains. “There’s no record of us. No birth certificates. Nothing. We never left the island until after he died in jail. Pippa was seventeen, I was fifteen, Luna thirteen.”
Hudson pulls his hand from mine to run both hands through his hair, before lowering his arms to the table, leaning on his elbows.
“This doesn’t make sense,” he whispers. “Shit—I believe you, sorry—I just have so many questions. I’ve read those files so many times.
How did no one find you on the island? You three don’t look like sisters; you don’t even look like him. ”
“We assume we each have different mothers,” Jules responds. “We also assume they were victims, but we don’t know. By the time we were old enough to start asking questions, no one was offering any answers. And getting off the island, well, it’s a long story. We’ll get to that part.”
I continue. “Our dad wasn’t cruel, not like Sophie.
” The name leaves a bitter taste. “But he wasn’t good or caring, either.
I mean, obviously he was a horrible human being.
You’ll get no argument from us on that. He cared about us because we shared his DNA.
Like we were something he owned; we only held importance via our connection to him.
Classic narcissist. We believe his ultimate plan was to pass his operation to us.
We were still young when he got arrested, so we’ll never truly know. ”
The silence deepens as everyone absorbs this information.
My hands curl in my lap.
Hudson’s comforting hand doesn’t return.
Time to rip the Band-Aid all the way. “The Volkovs ran security on the island. They didn’t live there like us, but they were there most of the time. Konstantin, Sophie, and Jared were business partners for the parties and the trafficking ring.”
Eva curses under her breath.
Enzo takes a deep breath and nods.
It’s Hudson who speaks. “So, Volkov got you off the island and to DC?”
Jules, Luna, and I all say “no” at the same time, shaking our heads.
“We realized Jared’s death was our way out. We were supposed to wait there for Konstantin, but we knew how evil he and Sophie were. Without Jared to protect us”—Jules shakes her head—“we needed to escape.”
Enzo pushes his chair back to stand. He paces the room, tall and imposing as he walks. His face is dark and stormy, his hands clenching at his side. I can tell he’s working out what to say or ask next.
The room waits in anticipation.
“I’m with Hudson. I have a lot of questions,” he starts, “but only two matter right now.”
The three of us nod our heads in agreement.
“Are you in contact with Junior?”
I answer emphatically. “No. We haven’t seen him in fifteen years. He has no idea we are here in DC.”
“How is that possible?” He’s not asking the question like he doesn’t believe our story. Our story is unbelievable and he needs to hear an answer.
Fair.
Jules takes it. “We weren’t born with these names.
There is no record of our births. When we left, we landed in Texas.
We had plenty of money, but no identification.
There were several years between then and our arrival in DC, but Luna found a way for us to repurpose the government paperwork of a few deceased girls around our ages.
The Volkovs, Sophie, they don’t know us by these names.
Even if they think we are alive still, they wouldn’t know how to find us. ”
Enzo nods. Admittedly, he is accepting this much more easily than I expected.
“That leads to my second question. Why come to DC? You escaped; you were free. Why put yourself right back in the path of all the people responsible for the atrocities at Maribel Island?” Enzo asks.
“You’re right. We could have stayed hidden,” I reply. “We had plenty of money. And we thought about it—trust me. At the time, we were still living in fear that Sophie or Konstantin would find us.”
“This was before the fallout with your family and the Donovans,” Jules interjects.
“Yeah, with Konstantin dead and Sophie on the most-wanted list, we could have remained in hiding, but we knew powerful men were still abusing children. We knew no one was doing anything about it.”
“It started with exposing them,” Luna says. “Jules went into the military and then the CIA. She was on the anti-trafficking taskforce. I went into hacking, sending proof to the FBI. That’s how I got caught, by the way.”
Hudson smiles. “I remember.”
“Pippa wanted to go to school to be a doctor or a chemist—she’s so smart,” Luna continues and I blush. “But she thought studying politics at Yale would get her more access to the predators.”
“We arrived in DC about eight years ago,” I add. “We didn’t come here to kill these men. It wasn’t the original plan.”
“What was?” Eva asks.
“To expose them, like Luna said,” I answer. “Everything that happened during the pandemic, all the celebrity and politician scandals—that was the start of our work. When we first got here, we really believed that if we showed the world the truth about these men, it would be enough.”
“But it wasn’t,” Enzo finishes. He’s stopped pacing but remains standing. “Nothing happened to them—slaps on the wrist, maybe some fines or limited jail time—but nothing really changed.”
We all nod.
“Then Magnus Troy became President,” Luna says grimly.
“Everyone knew his past, knew his ties to Whiteman, and he still fucking won,” Hudson adds.
Then Eva asks, “So, you started taking them out yourself?”
“Someone had to,” I reply.
“All your intel, all your inside knowledge on Victor Malin, McCarter—it wasn’t Luna’s hacking skills, it was from your time on Maribel. You were witnesses. Victims,” Hudson says.
“Yes,” Jules confirms. “Jared kept meticulous records. We were smart enough to bring them with us when we left.”
“Fuck. I don’t even know what to say,” Hudson admits.
Eva and Enzo murmur in agreement.
A few silent moments pass.
Hudson asks, “What’s the plan for Troy?”
“The upcoming gala,” is all I say.
“Do you need help?” Eva asks.
I look around the room, waiting for Enzo or Hudson to say they can’t or won’t help. Jules and Luna do the same. We expect a dismissal from Enzo, at the very least.
“My security firm has been pulled in for the event,” Jules says. “That was why we needed Malin gone.”
“Our plan is strong,” Luna says, “but extra help wouldn’t hurt.”
“Let’s hear it,” Enzo says as he sits back at the table.
And just like that, we tell them.
We tell them Jules and I will be in attendance for work with Luna on comms. That I plan to ask for an introduction to Troy from my boss.
That my handshake will be the method for poisoning him.
And how twenty minutes later, he’ll have a seizure right in front of all his friends and donors, as the event livestreams. No matter the medical attention he might receive, he’ll be dead within a few hours.
They listen intently. Hudson volunteers to be on duty with the FBI for the event, sharing that they’ve been asking for agents to work it. Luna suggests she might volunteer as well, then. We all agree Enzo and Eva can’t be seen in public at the event, but both could help on comms.
We tell them what Luna found on her other case regarding the Hollywood parties and that it looks like Sophie and the Russians are working with DeShawn Crown.
His parties are the newest cover for trafficking, just like Jared’s.
We even tell them that there is history with Jules and Jax Novak, who is now leading the federal investigation to find Sophie.
We lay it all out, answering every question they have.
They never question whether we are telling the truth.
They don’t run in the other direction.
They don’t wash their hands of us.
They care.
To want to help.
And it feels… I don’t even know. I don’t know how it feels.
But I do know that for the first time in our lives, it isn’t just the three of us against the world.