CHAPTER 24
MIA
It’s so easy to feel happy when you discover that someone is real, someone you thought you might’ve just imagined... but the hard part? Realizing that someone you believed with all your heart was real was actually made up. It's like losing someone to death, only worse, because that person never even existed. No one else can share the same grief because they were just in your head.
But at least Tristan is real. That’s something.
Zane spent the night reaching out to me, telling me about all the people who are real. He even made a list, just in case I needed it. And honestly? I love how he never looks at me like I’m some kind of freak.
He doesn’t invalidate my feelings. He held me while I cried all night over the loss of someone who never existed, and even though it might seem silly, it meant everything to me.
Today, I feel better.
I’ve decided I won’t stay trapped in this golden cage.
It’s not good for my mind. And honestly, I need to enjoy the freedom while I can, because I know it’s just a matter of time before my father changes his mind. I just need Laura to keep her end of the deal and get Zane out before it’s too late.
Mia: I’m going to Tony’s restaurant.
Zane: Stay away from that idiot Adam.
Mia: If he’s there, I’ll talk to him. But don’t worry, husband, I know who I belong to.
Zane: Only if you promise to stab him in the balls if he even looks in the wrong direction.
Mia: I promise.
Zane: That’s my girl.
I smile. The butterflies. God, the butterflies.
Tony’s restaurant smells like freshly griddled pancakes and sizzling burgers. The chatter of conversations blends with soft country music, and I immediately feel like I’m wrapped in warmth—like stepping into a cozy embrace of food and laughter.
I head straight to the counter, because Tony always gives me extra waffles when I sit there. And of course, just as I’m settling in, Adam’s voice floats in from beside me.
“What’s up, little adventurer?”
I turn and find him grinning at me, a beer in hand like he owns the place.
“Oh, hey, Adam.” I give him a mischievous smile. “Still working for your grandfather?”
He laughs, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Always. But tell me, where’s your jealous boyfriend?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Husband.”
I force my cheeks to stay cool—though the heat creeping up my neck proves he saw the cameras.
He isn’t fazed, though; instead, a sly smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and he lets out a laugh. “Ah, so things are even worse than I thought.”
“Why does everyone talk like that?” I shake my head, grabbing a piece of the bread Tony brought me. “We just got married. Normal, right?”
“Very normal.” He grins. “Especially when it’s an accident.”
I’m about to answer when it hits me.
“You’re from the Society of Crow.”
He pretends to wipe the counter, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You are,” I say, hands on my hips. “Are you going to tell me why you really work with your grandfather?”
“Nope.”
“I thought people from the Society of Crow were rich.”
“I never said I wasn’t.” He shrugs, looking almost amused.
I grimace. “Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, I couldn’t. You’re married to one of the members. That doesn’t mean I am, but if I were, it’d be a serious violation of the code.”
I laugh.
“Okay, then we can be friends. And you can’t flirt with me—I promised Zane I’d stab you in the balls if you did.”
“Oh no, I don’t flirt with married women. Especially those who can stab me in the balls,” he says, placing my milkshake in front of me before I even ask.
“You are a good friend.”
Adam laughs, and suddenly we’re chatting like old friends.
He tells me about a crazy trip to Greece, and I share my experience almost being scammed by a jewelry salesman in Madrid. The conversation flows—light, easy, and filled with that nice adrenaline rush of meeting someone new.
It’s a weird thing, really.
I love talking to people. I love the energy it gives me.
But at the end of the day, if I think about someone I want to spend my time with...
Zane will always be the first person in my mind. Always.
I glance at my phone and realize it’s time to go. I wave goodbye and step out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting my face. I breathe it in, ready to walk a little to my car.
But then…
A firm pressure wraps around my arm.
Before I can react, I’m yanked backward.
“What—”
A hand covers my mouth.
The world spins as I’m dragged into a car, my feet struggling to find balance, my head spinning with the sudden movement. My heart races, and I try to fight it, but everything blurs.
My body gives way.
My vision starts to fade to black.
But before everything goes dark, my eyes catch a familiar face.
Lara.
And then, it all goes black.
The sweet smell of bubble tea fills the air as Lara sighs and releases the restraints around my wrists. My muscles protest with an uncomfortable tingling, and I massage the irritated skin while watching her slide a cup and a pretzel toward me.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” she repeats, her voice unhurried, almost resigned. “I just ask that you don’t do the same.”
My jaw clenches.
“Are you here for revenge?” I ask, my voice a little resentful, even though I know I have no right to feel this way.
She thinks I killed her brother. I didn’t kill him. But I feel responsible.
Lara doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she sticks the straw into her cup and takes a sip before looking at me.
“I’m here to talk.”
“Talk. Right.” I snort. “Is that the term you guys in the Society use for torture?”
She rolls her eyes. “First of all, I would never torture anyone.” Her nose wrinkles as if the very thought is offensive. “I hate the smell of blood.”
It’s weird. I expected her to be furious.
To scream, to blame me, to tell me I was responsible for his death and could never pay for it. But there’s no fury in her eyes. Just something I can’t name.
My fingers slide hesitantly over the pretzel. “If you didn’t want to hurt me, why did you tie me up?”
Lara leans against the concrete wall of the warehouse, twirling her bubble tea cup in her hands like we’re on a normal picnic and not in a kidnapping situation.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She looks at me like she’s explaining something simple to a clueless child. “I didn’t want you to hurt me after our conversation, but I’m counting on you to be civil.”
I stare at her, blink, then blink again.
“Civil? You literally kidnapped me!”
Lara rolls her eyes like I’m overreacting. “Okay, I’m sorry for the approach. But I needed to make sure you’d come, and I highly doubt you’d respond to a message from me asking to meet up.”
I cross my arms, indignant. “Did you even try to text first?”
“Mia, you’re missing the point!”
“Oh, am I the one who’s getting off-topic?” I point at her with a pretzel stick. “Who used supervillain methods for a simple ‘hello, let’s talk?’”
Lara sighs, taking a piece of her own pretzel and chewing it slowly, not even looking guilty.
My attention shifts to the still-icy cup of bubble tea next to me. I pick it up and shake it, noticing that the ice cubes haven’t even begun to melt. My eyes narrow.
“How the hell is this drink still good?”
Lara smiles, pleased with herself. “Mia, you weren’t out for that long.”
My eyes widen. “I wasn’t?”
“No.” She sips her tea casually. “I measure things well. I’d like you to just pass out for ten minutes.”
I open my mouth, then close it again, completely perplexed.
“Do you… measures things well?”
She looks at me innocently. “Yes.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Lara, that’s not something normal people say. You know who measures things well? Pharmacists. Scientists. Serial killers.”
“Said the girl who murders people for sport,” Lara retorts.
“At least I don’t go out of my way to kidnap my friends.”
Lara rolls her eyes again. “Oh, Mia, drama.”
I slap my hand to my forehead. “Great. If I ever get poisoned, at least I’ll know it was done with surgical precision.”
Lara smiles, satisfied. “Exactly, friend.”
I throw a pretzel at her. “That wasn’t a compliment!”
“Coming from you, it is,” Lara says, then does something that surprises me. She hugs me. Tight. Like she’s missed me.
“I’m glad you’re still my friend, even though after this conversation I don’t think you’ll want to be.”
I stare at her, studying every nuance of her expression.
“You don’t look mad.”
Lara lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You think I’m not?”
I don’t know. She looks tired.
Taking a sip of tea, I try to read her. I’ve known her for such a short time, but it’s hard to imagine Lara being the kind of person who buckles under the weight of guilt. But she’s here. And for some reason, I’m not dead.
She runs her fingers over her knee, gathering her courage. “I knew it.”
I frown. “Knew what?”
Her eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see a trace of hesitation there.
“From the beginning,” she says, exhaling slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I knew how Carter died.”
I don’t say anything. I just watch her, the way her eyes avoid mine, like the truth might shatter between us if she looks too closely.
“I lied,” Lara admits, voice unsteady. “I said I didn’t have a sister. But I did.”
She pauses, her jaw tightening before she goes on.
“Her name was Elise. She was the best of us. Kind, gentle… too gentle. After the thing with our parents, she just—she couldn’t take it. She carried it all alone, and one day, she gave up. She ended her life.”
The silence that follows is suffocating. I feel it in my throat, in my chest, like I can’t breathe right.
“I found her,” Lara says, her voice cracking. “And I didn’t save Carter either. He couldn’t cope with losing her too. He spiraled—drugs, anger, shutting everyone out. And I just… watched it happen. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t know how.”
She looks at me then, eyes red, but honest. “I blamed myself. I still do.”
I want to say something, anything, but she keeps going.
“You know… I think that’s why Carter was so cruel to you,” she says. “Because you reminded him of her.”
I blink, unsure I heard right.
“Not just the way you laugh or the softness in your voice… it was the way you care,” Lara says, her voice low, steady in that heartbreaking kind of way. “You reminded him of who she used to be. And I think that scared him. Made him angry in a way he couldn’t explain. Because loving someone again felt like betrayal. And you brought that back.”
She lets out a breath, shaky, tired. “That’s why he never let you in as a friend. I mean… I knew he was in love with Zane. But I also knew he was in love with this version of Zane he had built in his head. This perfect, untouchable thing that was never real. I kept telling myself he’d snap out of it eventually. That he’d see people for who they really were.”
Lara swallows hard. Her voice falters.
“I just wish he did that before it was too late.”
She shakes her head slowly, eyes glassy with everything she’s been holding back.
“It wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry. For all of it. For being so damn stupid. For not telling you sooner. For letting you carry the weight of something you never should’ve been part of.”
My stomach tightens.
Lara looks away, staring at the empty space in front of us. “I also let Zane think it was you.”
The silence weighs heavily between us.
“Why?” My voice is low.
She clenches her fists on her knees. “Because Carter was buying drugs from the cartel.” Her tone is emotionless, but there’s a subtle tremor in her fingers. “I knew it would bring punishment on him. And then, because I was embarrassed to admit I kept his secret for so long.”
My lungs burn.
The shock, the anger, the confusion—everything mixes chaotically inside me.
“Did you know?” I whisper.
She laughs, a mirthless sound. “I was a coward. I shouldn’t have turned you in like that.”
My hands close. The truth dances between us, raw and irreversible.
Carter didn’t die because of me.
He died because Lara chose to protect a secret that cost him his life.
And me…
I understand.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the revelation wash over me. “If it were my brother,” my voice softer now, “I probably would’ve done the same. I mean, the protecting part. I probably would’ve ended his life before the drugs. But just like you, I wouldn’t have given up on him. I understand, Lara.”
Lara lifts her head, her eyes widening slightly. She studies me, searching for something in my expression.
For a long moment, she says nothing.
Then her posture relaxes a little, and she nods, as if absorbing my words.
The silence between us is no longer hostile.
I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends like we were before, but there’s a mutual understanding here, an acceptance of what we’ve both done.
I lean forward a little. “I’m sorry.”
Lara blinks.
I struggle to keep my tone steady. “Not for what you did, but for what you lost.”
Her eyes flash with something she quickly hides.
“He was an idiot,” she mutters, playing with her bubble tea straw.
I smile a little. “Brothers tend to be.”
She laughs, and for a moment, everything feels lighter.
And for the first time since Lara tied me to that chair, I feel like we can actually move forward.
Lara leans forward a little, resting her forearms on her knees. There’s something serious in her expression now, a quiet determination that makes me hold my breath before she even speaks.
“You should come back to our territory.”
I snort, throwing my head back. “Really? You too?”
She raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
I cross my arms, irritated. “Everyone’s telling me the same thing. ‘Stay here, Mia. You’ll be safe, Mia.’” I shake my head, exasperated. “It’s like I didn’t know that.”
“Well, whether you know it or not, it’s the truth,” Lara counters bluntly. “People care about you, Mia.”
Frustration spreads through my chest.
Lara studies me, her gaze more perceptive than I’d like. “Do you think Zane isn’t risking everything by being around you?”
My stomach turns when I hear his name.
“He always does that.” My voice comes out weaker than I intended.
“And eventually the shit will hit the fan,” Lara continues, firmly. “And it won’t be pretty.”
I swallow hard.
She doesn’t know.
She has no idea what’s really going on inside me.
How much I feel… trapped.
Like I’m being torn in half, forced to choose between two people I love.
Like no matter where I run, I’m always hurting someone.
And that…
This is destroying me.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to contain the growing pressure in my chest. But it’s no use.
Because the truth is, Lara is right.
And I don’t know if I can handle what comes next.