Bound to the calloway's heir

SIENNA.

I swallowed repeatedly, and it felt foreign in my throat. As I clicked on a folder in the drive, it was named Ellison Archive. My breath hitched as my finger hovered over the mouse, wondering what I was going to find there. What if this broke everything?

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Belinda asked, glancing at me with concern etched on her face. Her brown eyes were wide, reflecting both her curiosity and fear.

I nodded, my throat dry. "I have to know, Belinda. My father... he left me this for a reason."

"Come on then, let's do it," Belinda said, sensing my hesitation. As her shoulder brushed mine, that gave me an anchor through the chaos I knew I was about to unleash on us.

"Okay," I clicked on the folder and as it spilled open to reveal scanned documents, audio files, blurry photos, I heaved a sigh as my eyes settled on a sub-folder inside it, perhaps because it was just there, like a shell inside another shell.

"Wow," Belinda breathed, her eyes darting across the screen. "This looks intense."

"Journal Scans." I read out the title as I opened it, and pages of my Dad's slanting handwriting filled the screen. I scrolled through the content, which dated back to before I was born.

"I think this will be our guide to understanding all these documents," Belinda said beside me. Her breath fanned my cheeks. My stomach suddenly started to twist as I scrolled through the words scribbled down in my father's writing. They were about shipments, deals, and names I didn't recognize. Until I saw that each section of the journal was written with a caption on each page, divided into three parts. Cartel, territory, blackmail.

"I'd be damned" I whispered, realizing that he had actually been a part of this dark world. I only had few pages to know just how involved he was at it.

"Look at this," I said, pointing to a passage that detailed Frederick Ellison's rise to power through manipulation and blackmail. "They were ruthless." My father had been at the center of it all, pulling strings in a dark game I had never known existed.

Belinda leaned closer, her brow furrowed. "And your dad was part of this?"

I swallowed hard, trying to process the implications. "It seems so. He was one of the leaders, one of the four."

"Sienna..." Belinda's hand gripped my arm. "Are you okay?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. My eyes burned as I continued to read on, each line peeling back the lie I had lived with my whole life. In thirty minutes, I found out everything I had known for over twenty-five years was mere acting. And he was such a fine actor if he had fooled me that effortlessly. My father had always portrayed himself as a man of integrity in front of me, but these documents painted a different picture. He was a man who thrived in chaos.

I read out the content. "March 3rd 90s... Meeting at the docks. I proposed a new power structure with rotating leadership. The others agreed, but I could see the calculation in their eyes. No one trusts anyone."

Belinda's lips parted. "He documented everything?"

"Everything," I whispered. "Even the meetings they thought were off the record. He had them all recorded. He had always been a lover of writing anyway."

I clicked on another file. "They were all afraid of him," I said. "But they needed him because he had the leverage over them; we just needed to find out what it was."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "This is... this is so much darker than I ever imagined."

Belinda reached over and squeezed my hand. "You don't have to keep reading."

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of disappointment and anger clouding my mind. "But I have to understand who he really was... who I really am." I owed it to myself, to the girl who had believed her father was a hero. I owed it to the woman I was becoming.

The next entries were darker. "I started blackmailing them by recording their criminal conversations. I kept evidence of every crime, every secret deal they were involved in. I threatened to destroy them if they ever crossed me."

I looked at Belinda, "He was supposed to be their equal. But he wanted to be their only leader."

She nodded. "Absolute power corrupts. It always does."

I scrolled further. The entries grew more frantic. He wrote about his plans hastily, then came the betrayal. "Here, it says they tried to kill him. But he was always one step ahead. He bought their men. He knew everything planned before they carried out the plans."

Belinda's jaw tightened. "He had eyes everywhere."

I found the entry that changed everything. "He hired an assassin to take out Gregory Calloway. He succeeded. But Butler and Anderson fought back. They killed him and burned our house to the ground."

"Gregory Calloway? As in Zane Calloway's dad? Oh my world," Belinda squeaked and then hastily clasped a hand over her mouth.

I stared at the screen as I remembered the words of the men who had killed my parents. For the good of the realm.

I shook my head. "He was a monster. And I never saw it."

"Wait, roll back. I am confused. Could you summarize all these findings for me in simple language? I am lost."

"Okay. Gregory Calloway, who is Zane's father, along with Frederick Ellison, Hilary Butler, and Wilson Anderson, were the four leaders of every cartel and gang operating in LA and beyond its shores. All four shared equal power and control in the operations until Frederick Ellison, my father, decided it was time to split power on a rolling basis. Initially, they agreed that he should take the lead. However, he began to blackmail the other three in order to remain in power till death. He would record their discussions, document their secret deals, and every atrocity that had incriminating evidence, which, if discovered, could ruin the leaders and even political leaders. Hence, the three continued to obey him while secretly resenting him. They met and decided to put an end to him, knowing he had become too power-hungry and could ruin them. But Elisson had bought their men, and this plan was snitched to my father just before they could carry out their plans. He hired an assassin to take out the most threatening of them, Gregory Calloway. He was successful, but before he could kill the other two, they ganged up on him, killing and burning down his house for the good of the realm."

Belinda squeezed my hand again. "Now this is messed up. Zane's father? Your father. I have always known that this was all connected in some way, but never so deeply. We are screwed babe."

We sat in silence as I thought of the man who had taught me to ride a bike, who had cheered at my piano recitals, who had tucked me in at night with stories of bravery and honor. How could that man be the same one who had orchestrated murders, who had ruled through fear and manipulation?

I felt the tears before I realized I was crying. Belinda pulled me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay to be angry. Let it all out."

I buried my face in her shoulder, letting the grief wash over me. For the innocence I would never get back.

I pulled away, wiping my eyes. "Bel, I have always wondered why he gave me this drive before he died. Now I get it. He wanted me to have it. To continue what he started."

"Wait," Belinda said suddenly, "If your dad was blackmailing them... what if he had something on your dad too?" The thought sent a chill down my spine.

"Look here," I said, scrolling down to an entry that detailed how my father had managed to turn the other leaders against each other. "He played them like chess pieces."

Belinda frowned. "And it ultimately led to Calloway's death."

Belinda's eyes searched mine. "What are you going to do?"

I stared at the screen, at the evidence that could destroy Zane. "I could use this," I said slowly. "I could take control and fight off the other gangs."

Belinda's voice was gentle. "Is that what you want?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know. All I knew was that I was standing at a crossroads, the weight of my father's legacy pressing down on me. I could become the new devil, hungry for revenge. Or I could walk away, leave the darkness behind.

But could I ever really escape?

I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to choke back the sob clawing its way up. "He wasn't who I thought he was."

She didn't say anything, just watched me, her jaw tight, her eyes soft with something like pity. Then she leaned closer, her voice steady but gentle. "You didn't know. None of this is on you."

"But it is," I snapped, shoving my chair back and standing, my hands curling into fists. The room suddenly felt too small.

"He gave me this drive. He wanted me to know. Why? So I could take his place? Be like him. "He was a villain, Belinda. The worst of them. And I spent my whole life thinking he was a hero."

She stood too, crossing her arms, her eyes tracking me. "Maybe he thought he was giving you a weapon to survive in his dark world."

"This is poison. This could destroy Zane, sure. But it would destroy me, too. My father's legacy is built on blood, and I'm supposed to... what? Move in?"

Belinda's gaze softened, but she didn't back down. "You don't have to do anything. You could burn it all down by exposing it all, then walk away. Or..." She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You could use it. Take control. Push Zane out, take the cartel, fight off the others."

I froze, staring at her. "You sound like him."

She flinched, but her eyes held mine. "I'm not saying you should. I'm saying you could. This drive could be your leverage."

I turned away, my hands gripping the edge of the table. She wasn't wrong. Zane had been different these past few days, acting suspicious with his questions about my past, and it would get worse when he found out about my father's role in his father's death.

"I need to think" I muttered,

"You're not him, Sienna. You're not defined by what he did."

"But I am," I said. "I have been working for Zane, falling for him, thinking I could live clean and free for once. But it's all built on blood. My father's blood, Zane's father's blood. And now I'm holding the key to it all. What am I supposed to do with this? Use it to take Zane down? Become the new queen of this hellhole? Or expose it all and lose everything... Zane, my life, myself?"

She leaned back, her fingers tapping the glass, her expression calm. "Zane's not clean either, you know that." She trailed off, letting the implication hang.

I looked away, as I stared out at the city. "He's been good to me," I said softly, almost to myself. "He's kept me safe. But if he knew about this..." I shook my head, the thought too heavy to finish. Would he protect me still? Or would he see me as a threat, a loose end to be tied off?

Belinda sipped her wine, her eyes never leaving me. "You really do love him. You don't have to decide tonight," Belinda said. "But you need to be careful. Zane's not just your boss, from this all, he's a player in this game. And players don't stay loyal when their throne is at stake."

I nodded, knowing she was right. The drive could end him, could give me the power to take his place, to fight off the rival gangs circling us. But it would mean becoming the monster my father had been. "I need time to figure out what I'm willing to lose."

Belinda nodded, no judgment in her eyes, "Whatever you choose, I'm here."

I managed a small smile, "Thanks," I said, and meant it.

We sat in silence while I considered my options. I was at a crossroads and didn't know which path to take.

ZANE.

I sat at the edge of the polished mahogany table, my hands braced on my tablet, where I monitored the meeting with the PR team that was happening virtually at the site of the bombing. The board members' faces were etched with worry, their panic staring back at me through the screen. The bombing had rattled them, and the PR team's rapid-fire suggestions for damage control only added to the chaos. Clenching my jaw, the weight of the loss was bearing down on me. But beneath that, my mind was distracted by what was happening a few feet away from my study in the tech room. Sienna was unraveling secrets I was eager to know.

I moved away from the table, walked around it to my cushioned seat, and sat. Resting my head against the headrest. My earpiece crackled softly, and I muted the Live meeting to listen to the audio feed from the tech room's CCTV. Sienna's voice, followed by Belinda's teasing and some guy, Travis, discussing encryption.

I knew they were accessing the flash drive the moment they had plugged it into the old desktop, since it was synced through Atlas's network, which was accessible on my tablet. I had initially wanted to give her the privacy of knowing the flash's content, trusting her to be loyal and report to me. But as I saw her image flicker on my screen, I decided to watch the secret unfold as they worked their way to finding the passwords.

I was going to act oblivious, regardless; it was a test to see if she was as loyal as she wanted me to believe. I would be damned if I let Sienna uncover something without me knowing. Not when the cartel was breathing down my neck too.

I forced my attention back to the boardroom just in time to hear Madison's suggestion about security upgrades.

"You need not worry about it. We're doubling patrols, installing new biometric locks, and rerouting critical data to off-site servers," I paused, making sure they were focused on me. "This will never happen again. Trust me."

"Bypassed the initial encryption. But I have narrowed down the firewall to a seven-letter word. Any ideas?"

My pulse spiked, my grip tightening on the tablet. They were close to discovering what was on that drive. Would there be evidence tying Sienna to the cartel? Or proof of her innocence? Or something worse, something that could unravel Atlas and everything I had built?

The PR lead cleared her throat, pulling me back to the meeting. "We've drafted a statement expressing support for the casualties," she said, just as I received notification of a shared document from her. "Public donations to the victims' fund, a press conference tomorrow to show transparency. We need your approval."

I scanned the document, the words blurring as Sienna's voice crackled through my earpiece: "Try E..L...L...I..S...O..N."

My breath hitched at that word. Ellison? There was no way she was linked to that name. The desktop's soft chime confirmed access, and Belinda's squeal pierced the audio feed. They'd cracked the flash drive and now its contents were waiting to be exposed.

"Zane?" The PR prompted, her brow furrowing.

I stood abruptly. "Looks solid," I said curtly. "Run it. I need to go make an urgent call."

The PR lead just stared at me blankly before she nodded. I smiled at the screen before punching the red button to drop the call.

My earpiece fed me every sound from the tech room as Belinda's demand for privacy. My thumb hovered over the tablet, the live feed ready to show me everything they saw. Part of me wanted to storm to the tech room, rip the drive from their hands, and demand answers. But another part needed to know who Sienna really was, what she'd been hiding, and whether I had been a fool to let her get under my skin.

I slid onto the leather couch, creaking under me, and propped the tablet on the edge. The tech room's CCTV feed filled the screen; Sienna and Belinda hunched over the desktop, their faces illuminated by the monitor's glow. Sienna's fingers were trembling as she clicked the folder. "Here we go," she whispered.

֍

The tie around my neck felt like a noose, and I yanked it loose, the silk slipping through my fingers as my eyes burned into the wall. The tablet propped on the desk, its screen mirroring the old desktop in the tech room where Sienna and Belinda were unraveling my world. The folder glared back from the screen, its awful content twisting in my gut.

My father, Gregory Calloway, had been murdered not by some rival gang, like I had been made to believe, but by Frederick Ellison's order. The man I had seen laughing with my father over whiskey during their presumed business meetings. I had always known Dad's death wasn't random, but this was a gut punch. Ellison had covered it up, ensured the case went cold, and I had been too naive to question it. And now, his daughter...Sienna. My Sienna was sitting two floors away, holding the key to my destruction.

My chest tightened as her face flashed in my mind, those hazel eyes, the way her lips curved when she thought I wasn't looking, the quiet strength that had drawn me to her from the moment she walked into my office. I had fallen for her, hard and fast. I had protected her, kept her safe from the vipers circling my world, but now I saw the truth. She was Frederick Ellison's daughter, the heir to his bloody legacy, and she was holding a drive that could burn everything I had built to the ground.

I leaned back in my chair and raked my hands through my hair. How had I missed it? The reports after the Ellison fire incident had said the whole family was dead: Frederick, his wife, and their daughter. I had mourned them, or at least the idea of them, but Sienna had survived. Was it chance? Or had she known who I was all along, biding her time, waiting to use that drive to take what my father had died for? The thought made my stomach churn, but I couldn't shake it.

If she decides to leak those files, it would tie me to my father's cartel, expose Atlas as a front, and bring every rival gang in LA down on us. Everything I had bled for would collapse. But worse, it would expose her, too. Sienna Ellison, daughter of the devil himself. Did she know that? Did she care?

I got out of my seat and walked away from my desk, stopping by the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. My friends all looked to me to hold this together, to keep Atlas standing and the cartel's enemies at bay. Liam and Ethan would understand, maybe even forgive Sienna if I could convince them she wasn't a threat. Noah, sick as he was, wouldn't care either way. But Damian? I could already see his sneer, his eyes darkening at the mention of Ellison's name. He would never accept her, not once he knew who she really was. He would see her as a snake, just like her father, and he would push me to cut her out permanently. Could I look at Sienna, whom I had fallen for, and see only her father's sins?

I turned back to the tablet, clenching my hands. The files were still open; if Sienna wanted power, she could have it. Those documents were enough to take me down, to rally the cartel's remnants under her, to make deals with our rivals. She could be queen of this city, just like her father had been king. But would she? That was the question gnawing at me. Was she loyal to me, to Atlas, or to herself? To her father's dark desires? I needed to know. I needed to test her, to see if she would come to me with the truth.

My mind raced faster, spinning through my options. I could confront her right away and demand the drive just to see how she would react. But that would tip my hand, show her I had been watching alongside them. Or I could wait, play dumb, let her think I hadn't seen the files. Give her a chance to come clean and to prove she was still the woman I had trusted and loved. Love? The thought of that word suddenly felt odd. Could I still love the daughter of the man who had killed my father? Could I trust her not to finish what he started?

The study door creaked, and I flinched, my hand instinctively dropping to the drawer to hide the tablet. But it was the housekeeper, poking her head in. "Mr. Calloway, dessert is ready in the dining hall. Will you be joining Ms. Carter and Ms. Adams?"

I forced a nod, my throat tight. "Yeah. I will be there in a minute."

She disappeared, and I leaned forward, scrubbing my hands over my face as I walked out of the study to the hallway. Sienna would be there, probably still reeling from what she had seen on that drive. I could watch her to see if she gave anything away. If she looked at me differently, or her eyes avoided mine. I would know then, wouldn't I? If she was planning to use the drive against me, or if she was as lost as I was.

My heart thudded with each step, feeling heavier than the last. What would I say? How could I look at her, knowing what I knew, and not let it show? I was drowning in my own head, the questions piling up every second.

The dining hall opened before me, and my eyes found her first. Sienna sat by the window with Belinda across from her, a glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes flickered towards me as I entered and our gazes locked. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lips parted slightly, like she was holding her breath.

"Zane," she said, "I didn't hear you come in."

I forced a smile. "Got caught up in some work." My voice sounded calm, but inside, I was a storm. I took the chair at the head of the table, my eyes never leaving her. "Everything okay?"

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around her wine glass. "Yeah. Just... a long day."

Belinda's gaze darted between us. "You look like you have seen a ghost, Zane," she said,

I laughed. "With that bomb earlier, I believe I have really." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. A server poured me a glass of wine, the liquid sloshing slightly. "What about you two? What's got you holed up in the tech room?"

Sienna's eyes flicked to Belinda, then back to me. "Just... going through some old files," she said. "Nothing important."

My chest tightened. She was lying. Or at least, not telling the whole truth. I took a sip of wine and leaned back, watching her. "Old files, huh? Anything I should know about?"

Her fingers twitched, and she set her glass down. "Not really. Just... personal stuff."

Belinda raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent, her eyes on Sienna. I wanted to push for the truth, but I held back. This was the test. Would she come to me and tell me about the drive, or would she keep it hidden to plot her next move? I needed to know, but every second I looked at her, I saw her father's shadow, and it tore me apart.

I had built this Atlas to honor my father, to prove I could be more than the son of a cartel king. But now, with Sienna sitting across from me, the daughter of his killer, I didn't know what I was fighting for anymore. All I knew was that I had to play this carefully, or I would lose everything. And as her eyes met mine, soft and searching, I wondered if I already had.

SIENNA.

I lay in the guestroom bed, the luxury sheets felt cool against my skin, but they did nothing to soothe the fire raging inside me. I turned onto my side, facing a window with its drape parted; the sequin lining was transparent enough to see the city. The light's reflection from its streets seeped through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows just as the hum of the air-conditioning system buzzed faintly in the room.

Beside me, Belinda's soft snore filled the silence, her body comfortably tucked under the covers. She had fallen asleep hours ago, oblivious to the storm tearing through me. I had insisted on sharing this room with her, clinging to her familiar presence because being alone that night would have broken me. The flash drive's secrets had left me more terrified than anything.

I twitched my fingers to my neck, itching to reach for the warmth of the locket pendant, but that was gone. The locket had now become my biggest source of panic, its broken pieces tucked inside my jacket pocket across the room. I didn't need to hold it to feel its weight anymore, it wasn't an anchor. I wished I had not opened that folder, knowing that kind of truth which could unravel everything I thought I knew about myself, about him, about the world I had been dragged into. And the worst of it was the truth that clawed at my chest was what he had done to Zane's father.

I turned onto my other side, facing Belinda. She stirred but didn't wake. My eyes traced the faint outline of her profile, her dark curls splayed across the pillow. She was my anchor that night as always. When I begged her to share her room, claiming I just needed company, she hadn't pried, even though I saw the questions in her eyes with shaky hands as I poured us wine earlier.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the gory images that kept flashing behind my lids along with Zane's face. The way his dark eyes seemed to see straight through me was another reason I had decided to sleep next to Bel. I was avoiding the moments when it was just the two of us. I couldn't trust myself around him, not with the information I now had.

Not when his every look and touch made my heart race until my knees weakened. If I let myself get too close and let the words spill out, I would lose him. He would hate me. How could he not? My father had ordered the hit on his father to secure his own power. The undeniable truth was tearing me apart.

I shifted again, feeling the pillow beneath my head become too thin. I tangled my legs in the fabric as I tried to find a position that didn't make me feel like I was suffocating as uneasiness settled over me. I wanted do lots of things at once, to scream, to throw something, to run until my lungs gave out. But I couldn't.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 2:47 a.m. The numbers glowed red, mocking me as sleep slipped further away with every tick of the second hand. My mind churned, replaying the options I had been wrestling with all night. I could tell Zane everything. Lay it all bare. I imagined his face when I tell him of my father's crimes, his father's murder, the blood that stained my family's name. The way his jaw would tighten, the way his eyes would darken with betrayal. He would never look at me the same way again. The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me, and I pressed a hand to my stomach to stop it.

Or I could take the other path. The one my father had wanted for me. The flash drive wasn't just a record of his sins; it was everything I needed to take the wheel: names of allies, enemies, suppliers, and routes. By stepping into his shoes, I would be able to seize control of the cartel he had built. I could become what my father had been: a monster. The idea made my skin crawl. I didn't want that. I didn't want to be a monster that would have to live a life where every decision was stained with blood. But the thought lingered, tempting me. Wielding that kind of power meant safety and control. I wouldn't have to feel this helpless and afraid ever again.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My throat tightened, and I blinked hard, fighting the sting of tears. I wouldn't cry. Not here, not now. Crying wouldn't change what I had learned nor erase the blood on my family's name. I needed a plan, something to hold onto, that would keep me from spiraling into the abyss. I couldn't tell Zane, not yet. But I couldn't sit on that information either, letting it fester inside me until it drove me mad. There had to be a way to make this right, to prove to myself, to Zane, that I wasn't my father.

As the clock chimed 3 am, an idea came slowly, and I sat up, holding my knees up until it touched my chin. I wrapped my arms over my legs, settling my head on my knees. I could use the drive's content not to take over, but to dismantle it all. The rival cartel Zane had been fighting for years, since the details of their names, locations, and weaknesses were in those files, too. If I could take them down, if I could give Zane that victory, maybe it would be enough to rebuild his trust. I would tell him the truth after, when the dust settled, when I had proven I wasn't my father's daughter. Although the idea was a gamble, I was determined to follow through with it. It wouldn't be easy. But it was better than becoming the monster my father wanted, or losing Zane to the truth I was not ready to face.

My racing heartbeat slowly eased as the decision settled over me. I closed my eyes, picturing the look on Zane's face when I handed him the flash and confessed everything, and before begging for his forgiveness.

I turned my head, glancing at Belinda again. Her chest rose and fell calmly, untouched by the chaos that consumed me. Part of me wanted to wake her up and tell her about my dangerous plan, but I didn't have the heart to disturb her peaceful sleep.

I slowly lay back, pulling the blanket higher, and closed my eyes, willing my body to let go of the tension that coiled through every muscle. My decision was made. And as dawn crept closer, my eyelids grew heavy, winning out over the deadly chaos in my mind.

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Belinda leaned against the seat, arms crossed, her eyes tracking my every move. The air between us crackled with unspoken questions, the kind that had been piling up since I had informed her of my deadly decision. I stared ahead at the dinner, where I was sure.

"You sure about this, Sienna?" Belinda's voice cut through the hum of the city with an edge that made my pulse jump. She straightened, leaning closer, "Going out there alone, meeting these people, it's a dangerous risk. You know that."

I forced a smile, hoping it looked more confident than I felt. "I'm not alone. You and Jason are with me."

I turned to look out of the window at the Café. I couldn't let Belinda see how scared I was. Not when I was so close to proving I could handle this and that she could trust me to stand on my own.

Her hand landed gently on my shoulder, and I stiffened. "You don't have to do this to prove anything," she said, her voice almost pleading. "I trust you, Sienna. But these people, they're not playing games. If something goes wrong..."

"It won't." I turned to face her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were etched into the surrounding lines.

"I can handle it, I need to do this, for me. For us."

She studied me for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. "Alright. But you call me the second anything feels off. Promise me."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I promise."

I hopped out of the car, feeling the hair on my neck rise. It wasn't just Belinda and Jason watching me. I could feel other eyes on me, too. This thing, I didn't panic or turn around to discover who they were. It was all in the plan. To draw them to me and meet in public, where I can finally reach them.

I took a deep breath before turning the door knob, then let it out slowly. I stepped into the old café downtown, and it was exactly as I remembered it from the last time I was there, weeks back. It's dim lights, worn leather booths, and the faint scent of coffee and grease hanging in the air. The scarred-faced man had approached me here, and it was the perfect spot to have a meeting with them.

I sat in the same booth I had been in last time, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, the USB drive in my pocket. Outside, Jason and Bel waited in the car, visible through the tinted windows of the black SUV parked across the street. I could feel their watchful eyes on me, but it did little to calm the storm in my chest.

I was terrified. My heart started pounding so hard that I was sure the other patrons could hear it, and my palms were slick with sweat, despite the cool air. But I wasn't the same girl who had sat in this booth months ago, trembling at the sight of the scarred-faced man. Back then, I had been paralyzed by fear, my PTSD turning every shadow into a threat. Now, I know the truth about my family. That knowledge was my power, and I clung to it like a lifeline.

When the bell above the door jingled, my head snapped up on instinct to check who it was, but it was just a tired-looking waitress carrying a tray of empty mugs. I forced myself to breathe. I had chosen this booth deliberately, tucked in the corner where I could see the door but stay out of sight. The scarred-faced man would find me. He always did.

I sipped my coffee as the minutes dragged by while I waited, distracting myself with the other patrons who were enjoying their evening. A couple in the corner laughed over their food, an old man at the counter nursed a beer, and a group of college kids huddled around a laptop, conversing in a hushed tone. No one paid me any attention, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The cartel had eyes everywhere. I learned that the hard way.

A shadow fell over my table, and my breath caught. I looked up, and there he was...the scarred-faced man, sliding into the booth across from me with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times. His face was just as I remembered it, a jagged scar running from his temple to his jaw, pulling his features into a permanent grimace. His eyes were cold and assessing, but there was something else in them now...curiosity, maybe, or amusement. He leaned back, one arm draped over the back of the booth, his leather jacket creaking softly.

"You're not shaking this time," he said, "That's new."

I swallowed, forcing my hands to stay still in my lap. "I'm not the same person I was."

He tilted his head, studying me. "No, you're not. You've got your father's fire now. It took you long enough."

The mention of my father sent a jolt through me, but I didn't flinch. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "You've been following me, watching me. Let's cut to the chase. What's it going to take to make this stop?"

His lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Straight to the point. I like that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his scarred hands folding together. "You know what we want, Sienna. The fund. The nest egg your father stole. Hand it over, and we're done. No more fights. No more battles with your little boyfriend."

My stomach twisted at the mention of Zane, but I kept my expression neutral. "And if I give it to you? What's to stop you from coming after me again?"

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a chill down my spine. "You don't trust me?"

"Should I?" I shot back,

His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, I saw his expression soften. "Smart girl. But you've got my word. You give us what we want, and we're gone. You and Calloway can play house, live your little lives. We don't care about you. We just want what's ours."

I studied him, searching for a lie in his words, but his gaze was steady, unyielding. My fingers itched to reach for the drive, to pull it out and hand it over right then and there. But I couldn't. Not yet. I needed to be sure.

"And if I say no?" I asked, testing him.

His expression darkened. "Then this gets messy. For you. For Calloway. For everyone you care about."

His words hung in the air, making my heart pound, but I didn't look away. I couldn't afford to. "I'll give you the funds," I said finally. "But I need to know you'll keep your word. No tricks."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "You bring it to the old warehouse by the creek downtown. Tomorrow night. Come alone. That's the only way this works."

The thought of walking into that warehouse alone sent shivers down my spine, but I nodded. "Fine. Alone."

He leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Don't make me regret trusting you, Sienna."

I reached for my coffee, needing something to ground me, to keep my hands from shaking. "I won't," I said.

When I looked up, he was gone. The booth across from me was empty, the air still carrying the faint scent of leather and cigarette smoke. I was scared and terrified, but beneath it all, a fire burned. I was my father's daughter, and I was done running. Tomorrow night, I will face the cartel, hand over the funds, and bring this to a close. For me. For Zane. For the life we could have if I could just prove I was strong enough.

I stood, my legs steady despite the fear clawing at my chest, and walked out of the café, the USB drive in my pocket, which gave me a thrill. Belinda's eyes met mine through the car window, and I gave her a small nod. I was okay. For now. But tomorrow, everything could change.