Chapter 30 Miles
Miles
The room is dark, but I can see her. She’s curled up on the mattress we dragged to the floor, soft lines and pale skin illuminated by the moonlight slicing through the blinds.
She looks small, fragile, innocent—and the truth claws at me.
She doesn’t belong here, not like this, not with us. Not with me.
I keep my distance at first, leaning against the wall, eyes tracing her face.
Her hair spills over the pillow, a golden halo I don’t deserve to look at.
Every rise and fall of her chest is too beautiful, too pure, and I have to remind myself she’s a piece in a game that’s long since stopped being simple.
She’s the girl who almost destroyed us. The girl who still could.
Jamie stirs in his sleep beside her, stretching in a way that makes him even more impossible to ignore. I glance at him, silent, careful not to let my attention on him betray me. My pulse is steady, but I’m tense. One wrong move, one creak, and the night shatters.
My hand drifts toward my jeans, discarded across the floor. I need my phone. I need information. I need to figure out how to move. The fabric rustles slightly as I slide my fingers under it. My screen lights up. A few missed calls from Benny. Just what I needed.
I bite back a curse and check the messages. The last one hits me like a punch I didn’t see coming. Shit. This is exactly what I feared.
I need to get outside, need to take the call without waking them.
I ease myself along the floor, every step deliberate and careful.
Jamie shifts in his sleep but doesn’t wake.
Chloe is still curled onto her side, soft and small, the rise and fall of her chest hypnotic. I don’t let myself linger too long.
The cool night air hits as I step outside, phone pressed to my ear. Benny’s voice is cautious, already tense. I can feel it before he even speaks.
“Miles, where the hell have you been? We’ve got problems.”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to stay calm. “I know.”
I swallow hard, the memory burning. The plan.
I had sent the message to Matthew Ashford.
I hadn’t given him the details—just enough to set the trap.
I kidnapped Chloe and killed the accountant, Marano.
The deal was simple in my head. A private account, twelve million dollars transferred, and Ashford gets his daughter back, Matthew panics, pays, I get the money, arrange how to get it to Victor, and Chloe is free. She can run.
And now… it’s all gone to shit.
Ashford’s dead.
The bastard committed suicide.
The leverage is gone.
Every calculation I’d made, every contingency, evaporated in one fucking instant.
Benny’s voice on the other end rises, incredulous. “They are screening all his last visitors. If I get implicated in this, I am fucking screwed. Everything’s gone to shit.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, teeth grinding. “Every last bit.” My stomach twists. Chloe. She’s innocent. Oblivious to all the games that brought her here. To all the men like me she’s been dragged into. And because her father fucked everything up, because of his cowardice, she’s now a bigger target.
With no other Ashford in sight, my uncle will hunt Chloe down like a fucking animal.
Fuck!
I wish I could go back, rewind, and do it differently. I wish I could bring her dad back and make him suffer, make him pay for everything. But that’s impossible. He’s gone, and now it’s my responsibility to move, to think, to protect.
I end the call without answering Benny’s next question, quietly slipping back inside.
The mattress is quiet. Chloe has shifted onto her stomach, curled in on herself like she’s still holding on to the remnants of a dream.
I take a silent breath and nudge Jamie’s shoulder.
He stirs, groggy, and I gesture for him to follow me.
We step outside into the night air, the quiet broken only by the wind and distant traffic. I pace a few steps before finally speaking. “Everything’s fucked,” I admit, voice low, almost swallowed by the night.
Then I explain everything to him.
Jamie swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Shit. Shit. That means—” His words trail off, but I know exactly what he’s imagining.
“Yeah,” I say, bitter. “She’s a bigger target now. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Jamie’s gaze hardens. “So what do we do?”
I pull out my phone again, thumbs hovering over the screen. “Call X. Maybe he knows someone who can transport her out. Even illegally, if it comes to that. We can’t keep her in Pointe. We move her immediately. We figure out a plan before anyone even knows Matthew’s gone.”
Jamie nods slowly, his jaw tight. “I wish you had told me what you were planning on. Did you forget just how badly the last time you kidnapped her went? This is such a mess. I think I can get X to help but I don’t know how long that would take. I’m pretty sure…”
“Dead,” she whispers, voice small, trembling.
I glance back at the building, the faint shadow of Chloe still visible through the window. She’s sitting up, almost a ghost against the bed. Shit! We hadn’t realized she was awake, hadn’t realized she’d heard everything.
I freeze for a moment, searching her face. She’s flushed from sleep, hair sticking in soft tufts, eyes wide and shining. She looks smaller, more fragile than ever, but there’s something else in her gaze—a mixture of fear, understanding, and something that makes my chest tighten.
Jamie steps forward, protective, but I raise a hand. “Baby, it’s about time you learn the truth.”