Chapter Twenty-Five
Dawn
[Night before the election]
The estate is silent. Not the kind of silence I’m used to—the restless quiet of the city, full of distant sirens and muffled voices.
This is something different. A vast, heavy stillness lingers around me.
I pull my blanket tighter around my shoulders, but it doesn’t help.
The chill isn’t from the air—it’s from something deeper.
Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
Cassidy leans against the railing, cigarette balanced between her fingers. She exhales a slow stream of smoke, watching the glow of the pathway lamps stretch across the massive grounds. The last of the workers left hours ago, and now, it’s just us.
“You’re spiraling.” Cassidy murmurs, not even looking at me. Her voice is calm, like she’s just stating a fact.
I shift in my seat, fingers curling into the blanket’s fabric. “I’m not spiraling.”
She hums, unconvinced. “You’re quiet.” She takes another drag. “When you’re quiet, you’re overthinking.”
I huff out a breath, shaking my head. “I’m allowed to be uneasy.”
Cassidy taps her cigarette against the railing, sending embers floating into the dark. “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean you’re right.”
I don’t answer. I don’t know how to.
The mansion behind us looms, towering and pristine, its massive windows glowing with soft, golden light. Out here, though, the night presses in. The grounds stretch out endlessly beyond the patio, acres of land vanishing into shadows. No movement. No noise.
I stare out at it, my heart thudding.
Cassidy exhales another slow breath of smoke, finally turning her head toward me. “Talk to me.”
I hesitate. How do I even explain this? It’s not a thought, not a fear I can put into words. It’s just… something. I shift in my chair, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “I just—” My throat tightens. “I feel like something is wrong.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods like she expected that answer. “You’ve been around Blackthorn too long. It’s messing with your head.”
I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am paranoid.
But the feeling won’t leave.
Cassidy takes one last drag before flicking the cigarette into the stone ashtray beside her. She stretches, rolling her shoulders. “Listen,” she says, voice softer now. “Everyone wanting to screw with him and his campaign has already done it weeks ago. Tomorrow is just the last lap.”
I swallow hard, trying to take comfort in her words.
She pauses by the door, then sighs. Her eyes seem to search me for anything that could let her know I’m okay.
I give her a light smile. “Thank you for staying again tonight, Cass.”
She smirks. “I just hope you stocked up on the good coffee again.”
I manage a small laugh. “Wouldn’t dare disappoint you.”
She flashes me a grin before disappearing inside for the night. The moment she’s gone, the weight settles heavier. The silence feels bigger.
I pull out my phone, the screen glowing against the darkness. My thumb hovers over Luke’s name for a second too long.
I press the call button, lifting the phone to my ear.
It rings twice before he answers. “Hey, Dawnie.” Luke’s voice is warm, familiar—steady. But there’s a weight to it. A quiet exhaustion beneath the words.
I exhale, sinking deeper into my chair. “Hey. You still up?”
“Barely. It’s been a hell of a day.”
I imagine him in his hotel room, probably still in his suit, the tie loose around his neck, sitting on the edge of the bed running a hand through his hair, eyes shut as he tries to clear his head.
I wish I were there.
“You good?” Curiosity peeks through in his voice.
I hesitate. I don’t want to put this on him—not now. Not the night before everything changes. But I can’t lie either. “I don’t know.”
Luke lets out a quiet chuckle. “That bad, huh?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s just…” I pause, trying to put it into words. “I feel weird. Like something’s off.”
“Nerves.” He says simply. “You’ve never been good with uncertainty.”
He’s not wrong.
“I know you’re stressed,” he continues. “But don’t be. This thing’s a toss-up, yeah, but we ran a clean campaign. Whatever happens, I can live with it.”
I let out a slow breath, some of the tension in my chest easing.
That’s Luke. Practical. Grounded. He’s always been the steady one—the one who keeps things moving forward no matter how uncertain everything else is.
I lean back in my chair, my grip on the blanket loosening. “Maybe I’m just overthinking.”
“One way or another,” Luke says. “By this time tomorrow, I’m either Governor Carter, or I’m unemployed.”
I roll my eyes, a small smile pulling at my lips. “You’re such an ass.”
“Hey, I’m just saying. Either way, I’m taking a break after this.”
That sounds good. Normal. It makes the knot in my stomach unwind just a little more.
“Dawn,” his voice softens. “It’s gonna be okay.”
The words should be comforting. And they are. For a moment. But as the silence stretches between us, the unease creeps back in.
I shift in my seat, staring out over the vast, empty grounds. The feeling is still there, just beneath the surface. “Be careful tomorrow.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “I always am.”
I shake my head. “I mean it, Luke.”
His voice stays tight, but there’s something more thoughtful in it now. “I know. And I will be.”
I close my eyes, exhaling. “Promise?”
The line is quiet for a beat, like he’s letting the word settle.
Then, his voice softens. “Promise.”
My throat tightens, and I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to hold onto this moment for as long as I can.
“Get some sleep, little sister.” He murmurs. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”
I nod. “Yeah, you too.”
The line clicks dead. I stare at the screen, his name fading into black. The silence settles around me again, heavy and unshakable.
The call is over, but I don’t move. The night stretches in front of me—wide, empty, too still.
The distant glow of the estate’s path lights barely reaches the edges of the property, leaving most of it swallowed in darkness.
The only movement is from the greenery as it blows lightly in the cool breeze.
The door behind me clicks open. Soft, measured footsteps. I don’t have to turn to know who it is.
Nikolai steps onto the patio, his presence quiet but unmistakable. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just comes to stand beside me, resting his hands against the railing.
I don’t look at him, and he doesn’t look at me.
For a long moment, we just exist in the same space, staring out at the vast world ahead of us.
Then— “You okay?” His voice is quiet and soft.
I exhale slowly, gaze still locked on the estate. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s studying me. He doesn’t believe me.
He shifts slightly, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking something off. “You look tired.”
I finally glance at him, but he isn’t looking at me now—he’s looking ahead. His profile sharp in the low light, his mouth set in something that isn’t quite a frown.
I should tell him I’m fine. I should nod and let the moment pass. But I don’t. Instead, I turn back to the darkness. “So do you.”
He huffs quietly, the closest thing to amusement I’ve seen from him all day. But he doesn’t argue. He just turns around to look at me, still leaned against the railing.
For a moment, we just stay there. Two people staring at nothing, feeling something we can’t put a label on.
Then, without thinking, he moves. Just the slightest shift, like he might reach for me—like he almost does. But instead of actually touching me, his knuckles barely brush against my arm. A brief, fleeting contact. So small, I almost don’t even feel it.
Just as quickly, he exhales and steps back. “Try to get some sleep.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He just turns, stepping back inside.
I stay where I am, breathing the cool air, trying to let it soothe me.
It doesn’t.