“Aria,” he said slowly, “Lilith and I grew up together. That surgery… it was an accident. Maybe your father wouldn’t have survived, even if she hadn’t lost control. The media’s tearing her apart. You need to be reasonable. Record the video. Explain it clearly. Then this ends. The doctors are waiting, and afterward, I’ll free your brother.”
He spoke as if it were optional, but his eyes said otherwise.
Could I refuse? Could I risk saying no? If I did… would I end up in prison like Tristan? Or worse… like my father?
My heart felt like it shattered. I had trusted Thorne. For five years, he had given me everything. Every gift, every indulgence, every luxury—he made them mine. He never raised his voice, never scolded. I thought he was my safe place.
But since my father’s failed surgery, every plea for help was met with hesitation. And now I knew: he had never been my sanctuary. He was the blade.
At first, he acted indifferent. “Inconvenient,” he said, pretending it wasn’t his concern. But the moment Lilith’s name came up, his whole demeanor shifted.