CHAPTER 52
C HAPTER 52
ALLYN
“Should I expect your people to jump out of nowhere and kill me?”
Lydia’s lips curled into a greasy smile, her gaze scanning the shadows between the towering trees.
There was mistrust in her eyes—a sharp, unwavering edge. I didn’t blame her.
Lydia didn’t trust me.
She wasn’t stupid, and neither was I.
If anything, her presence here—on my territory, with no backup—spoke volumes about the loyalty she had for her family.
Risking her life to save her brother?
That was a testament to something stronger than fear.
Her hand stayed near her gun, fingers twitching with anticipation.
“I can do it myself,” I said, my tone sharp. “I don’t need my father’s dogs to do it for me.”
Lydia laughed at that, a short, cruel sound.
Her eyes gleamed with mockery as they fixed on me, reading every move, every breath.
“You’d be dead before you even tried.” her voice dripped venom. She wasn’t wrong.
“You’re starting to look more and more like your father, I see,” she muttered, her gaze trailing over me with open disgust.
“If I looked anything like my father, you’d already be dead,” I shot back.
Once, she’d been the closest person in my life. My confidant, my ally.
Now?
We were nothing but strangers armed with shared history and too many grudges.
She bit her tongue, clearly holding back words she didn’t want to say. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t something kind.
“I’m only here because I read my brother’s name on the letter addressed to me.”
I nodded. She was here for the same reason I was—family. I gripped the folder in my hands, the edges digging into my palms.
I could already feel the weight of the choice I was making. A mistake. A big one.
I threw the folder at her feet, a silent admission that
I wasn’t a true Romano. My blood wasn’t ice. My heart was still beating for someone else.
Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she followed the folder, a flicker of skepticism crossing her face. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze now back on me, waiting for me to explain.
I swallowed the bitter taste of pride, forcing my words through a throat constricted by guilt.
“This is the plan of the whole mansion. Every entrance, every hallway, every door and room. Everything down to the last detail.”
Lydia didn’t speak. She just stared at the folder as if expecting it to bite her. Her lips tightened, and I could see the question in her eyes.
Why? Why would I give her this?
Because Maddox’s survival was more important than my loyalty to a name I no longer wanted to carry.
“I’ll make sure the guards are gone. No one will be at the mansion’s entrance tonight. The cameras will be turned off. I’m giving you a chance, Lydia. A fair one.” I felt my chest tighten. “What happens after that—whether he lives or dies—it’s on you.”
She was still staring at the folder, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing—like I was playing some kind of trick.
But it wasn’t a trick. It was all or nothing now.
After what felt like an eternity, Lydia finally spoke, her voice low and cold, still fixated on the folder in front of her.
“Why are you doing this?” she croaked, her eyes narrowing as if trying to find some hidden agenda in my actions.
I pressed my lips together, not wanting to utter the truth. Saying it out loud would make it real, and the last thing I wanted was to confront my feelings head-on. It was easier to pretend, to convince myself that I was doing this out of some misplaced sense of duty.
“He was always taking care of my safety,” I muttered, shrugging as if that explanation should be enough. “I owe him.”
Lydia scoffed, shaking her head.
“Bullshit.”
Lydia wasn’t stupid. The truth was clear, even if neither of us wanted to say it out loud.
“Your brother’s life is running out with every second you act like a bitch,” I muttered, frustration rising in my chest. “Take it or leave it. It’s your choice.”
Her gaze softened ever so slightly, her cold demeanor cracking just a little. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but for a brief moment, I thought I saw something close to… gratitude?
Before I turned to leave, I glanced back once more.
“This is the last time I do anything for your family,”
I promised, my voice firm.
“We’re even now.”
That was the first conversation I’d had with Lydia in months, and even though it had been a week since then, the memory still haunted me.
I knew she would take advantage of the opportunity I gave her. I knew she’d do whatever it took to save Maddox. That’s why I wrote the letter to her. She was loyal to a fault, to her family, to her blood. She would risk everything for them.
That night, I stood by my window, watching the car drive off at full speed. The distant sound of the engine fading, leaving behind nothing but death and defeat.
But as I watched the taillights disappear into the night, something inside me felt like it was slipping away too.
I would never forget the rush of emotions when I saw Maddox without chains and handcuffs. He was free, just as he should have been all along.
The next morning, my father’s fury was like nothing I’d ever witnessed. He was livid, enraged beyond reason. I could see the rage in his eyes when he found out that Maddox had escaped.
The worst part was that if he ever learns the truth—that his own daughter was behind Maddox’s escape—he might never forgive me.
I’d crossed a line from which there was no return.
I betrayed him, I betrayed my family in the worst possible way. And yet, I felt no remorse. Not a single ounce.
It was a strange kind of peace I found in this betrayal—one that had been missing for so long.
One thing was certain — nothing would stop me from getting my revenge on Martin King. I had to.
Not just for me, but for Lara too.
I had discovered the truth.
Martin King was behind the Seattle bloodbath—the very one that had claimed Lara’s life. I won’t rest until I make him pay for everything he had done, for every innocent life lost because of him.
When we captured one of his people months ago, he confessed in a desperate attempt to save his own life.
Why had he done it? A mystery.
No one knows, but I’ll have my answers soon.
I was a little relieved when I found out we were going to attend a masquerade ball hosted by The Stone family. Something to make me forget even for a little while.
And when I tell you that Theo Stone was a pain in my ass this entire week, I’m not exaggerating. He took his role as my future husband way too seriously—always around, making sure I had everything I needed.
It almost seemed like he wanted to make this work between us.
And the more time I spent around him, the more I realized he was nothing like his father.
Theo Stone seemed like a good man, and that’s why I wonder how long he’ll last in the world his father pulled him into.
I found myself asking the same question.
I smiled as Theo Stone’s arm wrapped gently around my waist, keeping me close while we walked through the ballroom, greeting all the masked guests.
I stared at the expressionless faces hidden behind masks. They don’t need them—people like them hide behind masks their whole lives anyway.
Daphne soaked up the attention more than I did.
She stayed close to my right, her head held high, with a big smile on her face, clearly enjoying the eyes on her.
Her red hair is tied into a neat bun, half her face concealed by a red-and- white mask that ends just above her red lips. Her dress of choice is a long, sparkling red gown with a thigh-high slit.
Naturally, my choice of attire came as no surprise. The moment I learned we’d be attending a masquerade ball hosted by the Stone family, I knew I would wear black.
Black—deadly, elegant. Just like me.
No one owned me, and that was my way of making it clear. I was the only woman at the ball wearing black, defying Garrett Stone’s ban on the color for his masquerade.
That’s exactly why I chose it.
Mikael’s eyes follow my every move— as if he fears that the moment he looks away, I’ll vanish.
Even though the entire estate was heavily guarded for the celebration. Everyone was invited, everyone except The King family.
The guards were given explicit orders: shoot on sight if any King dared to cross the property’s threshold.
I barely listened to my father and Theo’s dull conversation with the people in front of us. My body remained here, but my mind had drifted elsewhere. As I scan the grand ballroom, I’m relieved to see Daphne enjoying herself, laughing and dancing with a blonde man wearing a white mask.
Theo chuckles at something the man in front of him says, but his gaze shifted to me. His laughter faded, as if he could sense how withdrawn I was. He gently places his hand on my waist, pulling me closer before turning to my father and the others.
“Excuse us.”
Mikael nods approvingly, clearly pleased. I can almost see a smile forming on his face.
Theo led me through the crowd, greeting people as we passed. His hand never left my waist, caressing it lightly.
When we reached the small garden at the back of the property, hidden by a canopy of beautiful trees, he dismissed the guards with a quiet word and turned to face me. We were completely alone now, in a place far too private for comfort.
“What’s been on your mind all night?” he asked.
He took a seat on the nearby bench, and I followed, sitting beside him. Against all odds, Theo Stone is a good man—the kind of man any woman would be proud to have.
A gentleman, kind and thoughtful, unlike the ruthless men that inhabit the world we live in. If I asked for the moon and stars, he’d find a way to give them to me. And yet, it’s still not enough.
He could give me the entire world, and I’d still find myself searching for a pair of black eyes and a dark, deadly smile.
“It’s just been a weird week,” I lied, my voice steady.
Thankfully, he didn’t question it and simply nodded in agreement.
His hand moved to mine, resting gently in my lap. The unexpected contact surprised me. No one was here to see us, there was no reason to keep up appearances.
So why was he touching me?
“You know there’s nothing to worry about here,” he said softly, his thumb stroking my hand. “You’re safe with me.”
That’s the problem. I didn’t want safe.
I craved madness, chaos, darkness.
Things Theo Stone can never give me.
I forced a smile, nodding in silent agreement.
The silence between us grew heavier, settling like an unwelcome guest. His expression grew tense, his gaze fixed on the distance— as if he were lost in his own thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, his ice-blue eyes met mine and his gaze softened.
“I want this to work. I’ll try to make it work, but you have to meet me halfway.”
His words came out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
He shouldn’t be so kind to me. He shouldn’t look at me like he really wants me. His gaze flickered to my lips, lingering there like he was considering something.
Shit.
“It’s not like we have a choice, is it?” I replied, my voice quieter than I intended.
“I’m not Angelo,” he said firmly.
“I’m sorry for everything you went through because of The Kings. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re happy with me.” If only he could.
His eyes drifted down, and this time he didn’t hesitate. His hand rose to my cheek, brushing it with a tenderness I didn’t know what to do with.
His lips pressed to my other cheek in a gentle, sweet kiss, and I was stunned into place. When he pulled back, his gaze was soft and warm, looking at me as if he really wanted me.
“Let’s head back inside. They’ll be looking for us soon. It’s almost time for our first dance.”
“I’ll join you in a minute. I just need a little time alone to clear my head,” I said with a smile.
He nodded, flashing me a smile before vanishing into the shadows, heading toward the mansion’s far entrance.
My thoughts were already a mess, and that kiss only made things worse. I deserved someone who looks at me the way Theo Stone did, who will touch me like I was precious, like I mattered.
But my body craves something entirely different. Rough hands that know only how to corrupt, not comfort. Lips that burn against my skin and a filthy mouth that spits poison with every word.
I stood from the bench, smoothing my dress, running a hand through my hair. I steeled myself to go back inside and fake a smile for the rest of the night.
But before I could take a single step, something cold and hard pressed against my temple and a hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the scream that never fully formed.
A gun.
The scent hit me first—sharp and painfully familiar.
It sent a shiver racing down my spine.
I knew those hands, the way they gripped me.
That’s why my body wasn’t fighting. It recognized them.
I felt his grin, cruel and unapologetic, as he leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear.
The gun pressed harder into my temple.
“Missed me, princess?’’