Chapter 24 Sage #2
“No,” I hiss. “But I heard her. That’s real.”
“That’s leverage,” he corrects. “Now listen. There’s more than one way to bring down a man like Luka Barinov. You can swing a blade, or you can bleed him through his ledgers. You’re in his house. You’ll be my hands.”
“I won’t hurt him.”
“Of course you will,” he says, almost kind. “And you’ll tell yourself it’s for love. Here’s what you’ll get: his financial records, all of them. Contact lists, backups, shipment routes for the next sixty days. Everything. You’re detail-oriented. Use it.”
“He’ll notice,” I say quietly, my mind already drawing maps I don’t want. “And I don’t have access.”
“You’ll copy, not remove,” he explains, his voice soft as poison. “You’ll have what you need when I decide you’re ready.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
He stops pretending to be patient. “If you ever want to see your sister again,” he threatens, “you’ll do exactly as I tell you. If you warn Luka or try to run, I’ll mail you her location in pieces. I’ll start small. A finger travels well.”
The air disappears from the room. “Please don’t hurt her,” slips out, half prayer, half failure.
“Then learn,” he replies. “You have five days. Heal fast. I’ll be in touch.”
The line clicks dead.
I lower the phone and stare at the screen until the walls seem to tilt and find their balance again. Vega presses closer, groaning softly as he adjusts his hip. The phone buzzes once more, and a photo fills the screen before I can stop it.
Hope is tied to a metal chair. Concrete walls. Rope biting her wrists. Bandage at her throat. Her eyes are bright, and she is trying to be brave.
A sound rises from my chest. I swallow it because once it escapes, I don’t know how to stop it. Vega leans into my arm, his breath warm against my skin.
The fire hums, the house breathes, the ridge outside keeps its quiet. I’m a woman with a phone, a wounded dog, and a sister bound to a chair. The rest of the world feels impossibly far away.
The choices line up like knives, clean and merciless.
If I do what Ray wants, I hand Luka’s world to the men who would gut it.
If I refuse, Hope dies. If I tell Luka, he'll rip the place apart to find her, and she may not survive whatever blaze follows.
If I keep this secret, I will never drink tea without tasting ash again.
The choices line up like knives, clean and merciless.
If I do what Ray wants, I hand Luka’s world to the men who would gut it.
If I refuse, Hope dies. If I tell Luka, he rips the place apart to find her and she may not survive whatever blaze follows.
If I keep this secret, I will never drink tea without tasting ash again.
I press my hand to my chest and breathe slowly, counting silently so the ache doesn’t win.
I see Hope at seven, tucked against me during a storm, counting between the thunder.
I see her at fifteen, rolling her eyes at the boy who spilled his coffee, trying to ask her name.
I see her last week, pale and fierce, her fingers wrapped around mine like she was daring the world to try and take her.
I slide the phone under the blanket, my palm over it, feeling its pulse against my skin. Vega’s head rests on my leg, his loyalty steady even in pain.
“I’m going to bring you home,” I whisper to the dark, though I don’t know what it will cost or who I’ll be when it’s done.
END OF BOOK ONE