Chapter 23
Then the flashbacks started replaying like a fucking curse stitched into the back of my skull.
It hit me right in the gut while I sat there, staring at the broken laptop and licking blood from my busted knuckles like it could give me answers. But it didn’t. It only reminded me of what I lost.
Danica.
Barefoot on the rooftop in that silk dress she hated but wore because I said she looked like a goddess in it. The city lights behind her didn’t even come close. I remember the sound of her laugh like I didn’t deserve to hear something that pure. I was pouring champagne, telling her she’d never beg again under my roof. That was the vow. My vow.
She’d asked, “What if love turns into war?”
I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Then we burn the world together.”
And fuck me I meant every goddamn word.
Next flash–I saw her in that meeting with the Valencia arm, pale as hell, quiet. She stood up suddenly and rushed out like she couldn’t breathe. My mother scoffed, said she was being dramatic again. I didn’t listen to her. I just followed Danica out and carried her into the car like the queen she was. That night I didn’t let her leave my arms. I held her while she cried and kept saying her body was failing her, that she was scared of dying before I could say husband out loud.
I told her she wouldn’t do this alone. That I’d fight the whole damn world if I had to.
Then there was the beach.
No guards. No guns. No fucking kingdom. Just her in white, spinning barefoot into the waves like she wasn’t part of the war I dragged her into. I watched her like she was peace. Like she was the only thing on this godforsaken planet that hadn’t been touched by blood.
We made love under the stars that night. And I told her, “I could kill anyone who threatens this.”
She looked up at me, smiling, and asked, “Even your own blood?”
I paused. Because I knew one day it might come to that. Then I kissed her hard enough to shut the whole universe up.
But the worst part of it all–the flash that dug into my fucking ribcage and wouldn’t let go was the night I proposed.
No one was there. Just us. A candlelit room. I had nothing but the heirloom ring in my palm and a war behind my eyes. She was shaking. She didn’t even say yes.
And I told her, “I don’t care if you say yes. I just want you to know who I kneel for.”
She took the ring herself and whispered, “I love you.”
And I believed her.
I fucking believed her.
Now?
4:53 pm
Now she’s alive and in the arms of my brother. Wearing red and smiling like she’s never bled in my bed. I slammed my fists into the wall again and again until I felt the bones crack because rage wasn’t enough.
I had given her my vow, my name, my fucking empire. I burned everything for her. And now she’s back. From the fucking grave just to hand me my own head.
I poured another drink with shaking hands and whispered to the walls, “You said we’d burn the world together, baby.”
I downed it in one go, grabbed my gun, and smiled bitterly.
“Fine. Let’s burn it for real.”
Then out of cue my mother barged into my office without knocking, wearing her pearls like armor and dragging fury in her heels. She didn’t even sit. She just stood there like a judge ready
to hand me a sentence.
“You want to divorce Elodie?” she snapped. “Didn’t she save you? Wasn’t she the reason you disappeared in the first place? You abandon her now? After everything she gave up for you? She’s carrying your heir, Harvick!”
I didn’t yell.
I just stood, rolled my sleeves up, and looked her straight in the face.
‘Elodie is the reason Danica left,” I said, voice low and sharp. “I made a choice that cost me everything. And that’s my biggest regret.”
She opened her mouth, but I didn’t stop.
‘I married Elodie thinking she was dying. She told me she had months left. Told me she had no one else. Told me I was all she had left to live for.”
stepped around my desk, hands on my hips, letting the weight of my words hit.
‘She fucking faked cancer. She trapped me with a fake pregnancy. She made me bury the woman I loved while feeding me lies. And you want me to pretend that’s loyalty?”
Lara raised her voice. “Danica manipulated you. That girl always had something dark in her eyes. You think I didn’t see it? I prefer Elodie. She knows how to carry herself with grace. She oves you.”
laughed once–dark and hollow.
No,” I said. “The only manipulator here is your daughter–in–law.”
.ara stiffened.
‘I’m done letting her ruin what’s left of me. She and I are over. Whatever affection you think I owe her? Burn it. There’s nothing left to salvage.”
Her face went pale. “Harvick, son-”
‘Leave,” I said, turning my back on her. “And next time, knock.”
She stormed out like the wind, insulted and shaken, and for once in years, I didn’t feel guilt ugging at my chest. Only silence. Only clarity.
lit a cigar and stood in front of the wall of screens in my office–the last place Danica’s face
4:53 pm DD
had appeared, flickering like a ghost I couldn’t touch. I watched it again. And again. Until my lungs burned with smoke and my patience bled dry.
“I lost her once because I chose wrong,” I muttered. “I’m not making that mistake again.”
I turned to Nico, my right hand, standing near the door.
“Kill Jeremiah,” I ordered. “I don’t care how you do it. I want his body in front of me.”
Nico didn’t flinch. “And Danica?” he asked.
lit another match and let it burn too long between my fingers before I blew it out. “Kidnap her,” said. “I want her alive. I want her back.” I stared into the smoke and whispered, “This time, I don‘
care if she wants it or not.”
