James

My pulse roars in my ears.

“A trade requires proof you have him,” I say, forcing the words out with steady confidence even as something vicious coils tighter in my chest. “I want to speak to him.”

Silence.

Victor lets it stretch just long enough for doubt to creep in. Long enough for the image of Tyler alone, hurt—or worse–to claw its way into my head.

Then he hums, clearly amused. “Of course. You didn’t think I’d expect you to negotiate on faith alone, did you?”

My grip tightens on the phone until the plastic creaks. I feel it before I fully register it—the tremor crawling up my forearm, the way my pulse spikes hard enough to blur the edges of my vision.

“I swear to God, if you’ve done something to him—”

“Oh, James.” There’s a smile in his voice now. “Relax. I wouldn’t damage my leverage.”

The word leverage lands like a boulder on my chest.

“That’s not the kind of man I am. And it’s why I agree. You deserve the reassurance.”

A faint rustle comes through the line. Fabric shifting. Movement close to the receiver.

My lungs forget how to work.

Then—

A sound.

Sharp. Hollow. Wet.

Followed by a broken groan that detonates straight through me.

Tyler.

The world tunnels.

My fingers lock around the phone, tendons screaming as my grip turns white-hot. The room tilts. Narrows. My breath shatters, tearing out of me in a jagged pull I can’t stop.

No.

No, no, no—

The monster inside me bares its teeth.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” The words rip out of me, raw and unfiltered. “Don’t you fucking touch my brother, you sick son of a bitch—”

“Ah.” Victor exhales, satisfied. “There he is. Good to finally meet you, Mr. Reaper.”

Another sound slips through the line—smaller this time. Muffled. Like someone trying to speak through pain.

It’s Tyler’s voice, but I can’t make out the words.

My vision burns. Stars burst behind my eyes.

The monster surges—roaring for blood, for bone, for the sweet release of violence. Threats spill out of me, ugly and unhinged, promises I would gladly carve into Victor’s flesh if he were anywhere near me.

I don’t see Zeb signalling for me to calm down.

I don’t hear Dominick swearing under his breath.

Most of all, I don’t register the whimpers coming from the woman across from me. 

Because if I do—if I let myself look at her and I see the same agony tearing my heart apart, carved across her face—I swear to fucking Christ, I will break.

When I finally fall silent, Victor lets the quiet stretch, savoring every ragged breath I struggle to drag back under control.

“Now that that unpleasantness is behind us,” he says smoothly, “what do you say we continue negotiations?”

My jaw trembles as I force the monster down, force air back into my lungs one painful inch at a time.

“What do you want?” I grind out. “Just fucking say it.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“An exchange,” Victor replies. “Your brother for my Dove.”

My stomach drops.

“No,” I snarl. “That’s not a choice. That will never fucking happen.”

“It’s the only one you have.” His voice remains calm. Certain. “You return what’s mine, and Tyler walks away alive. Whole. Traumatized perhaps—a little worse for the wear—but alive, nonetheless.”

Rage and terror collide, ripping through me at once.

“You will never touch her again,” I vow. “I’ll burn your entire life to the ground—tear out your heart and feed it to you—before I ever let her near you again. Do you hear me?”

A soft chuckle answers.

“Such devotion,” Victor murmurs. “Admirable. Futile—but admirable.”

My nails bite into my palm, grounding me in pain so I don’t lose the last shred of control I have left.

“Think of it as balance,” he continues. “One life for another. Someone who belongs to you, for someone who belongs to me. A fair trade, Mr. Serrano.”

Fair?

That he’s using that word in this context is downright obscene.

“You ambushed my brother,” I hiss. “You’re holding him against his will—using him as leverage. There is nothing fucking fair about this.”

Victor sighs, almost bored.

“You’re missing the point, James. I lose my Dove, you lose your brother. Or we exchange what belongs to us, and everyone lives to see another day. Simple.”

Ice clinks against glass on his end of the line.

“I suggest,” he adds pleasantly, “you take a moment to consider your options. Carefully.”

“No,” I say again, louder this time. “You don’t get to dictate terms like this. I’m not handing her over to you. Ever. And you will release my brother. Right fucking now.”

Victor sighs—long and theatrical—like I’ve disappointed him.

“Oh, James,” he says gently. “Still clinging to the fantasy that there’s a version of this where you don’t lose someone precious to you. It’s what makes this so damn tragic.”

Zeb’s hand comes up in my peripheral vision—two fingers.

Stall.

He’s telling me to slow down. To buy time. But my head is so twisted up I barely register what the fuck he’s asking me to do.

Dominick doesn’t look at me at all. His jaw is locked tight, eyes glued to the data rolling across the monitors.

“You think you’re protecting her,” Victor continues. “But all you’re really doing is prolonging your brother’s suffering while postponing the inevitable.”

My stomach twists hard enough to make me dizzy. I lean against the counter, gripping the edge as my knees threaten to give out beneath me.

“Anything happens to him,” I warn, my voice breaking despite my effort to keep it steady, “and I swear to God—”

“You’ll do what, Mr. Serrano?” Victor interrupts. “Say something frightening? Issue more empty threats? Make another promise you can’t possibly keep from whatever hole you’re hiding in?”

The monster inside me snarls.

My hands shake.

“James.” Annelly’s voice cuts through the panic flooding my veins.

I look at her before I can stop myself.

She’s standing now. Pale. Devastated. But her eyes are fixed on me with a look that communicates exactly what she’s thinking.

“No,” I say instantly. “Absolutely not.”

She takes a step closer.

“I can do this,” she says quietly. Not to Victor. To me. “I can fix this.”

My heart stutters.

Victor chuckles. “Ah. There she is. My sweet, sweet Dove. You always did have a remarkable sense of timing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. It’s useless. The damage is already done. “Don’t talk to her. You don’t get to talk to her.”

“James, stop.” A steady hand covers mine, her eyes pleading. “Victor, I’ll go back with you,” she says, louder now. Steadier. “You bring Tyler back. You let him go, and I’ll go with you. No games. I won’t put up a fight. And neither will anyone else.”

I erupt.

Zeb moves at the same time I do, grabbing my arm, trying to hold me back like he’s afraid I might hurt her, which only makes it worse.

“No.” The word tears out of me as I wrench free, my eyes never leaving hers. “No—absolutely not. You don’t get to decide this. You don’t get to make that choice for us.”

Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t look away. “James—”

“You promised me,” I say, my voice cracking wide open. “You promised you’d let us handle this. That you’d stay with me.”

“I know,” she whispers. “But I can’t let your brother die because of me.”

That does it.

Something inside my chest gives way completely—not in anger, but in terror so sharp it steals the air from my lungs.

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to live with?” I shout, no longer caring who hears. “What you’re asking Tyler to live with? Do you think saving him will mean anything to either of us if it means sacrificing you in the process?”

Victor hums, pleased. “Wow. Such vulnerable honesty. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were deeply in love with my Dove, James.”

I ignore him completely. Instead, I turn on the room—on Zeb, on Dominick. The men I’ve been counting on to stop this. To fix this. To end this nightmare.

“You’re letting this happen,” I accuse hoarsely. “You’re both standing there bleak-faced, like this is some kind of unwinnable chess match, and it’s not. This is my brother. This is the woman I love. This is my fucking life.”

“Don’t blame them, James. This isn’t their fault.” She steps into me then, wrapping her arms around like she’s trying to keep me anchored to reality.

My hands shake as they come around her. My voice gone—scraped raw by fear.

“I can’t lose him, Annelly. But I can’t lose you, either. I won’t survive it. I can’t live in a world where one or both of you aren’t a part of my life. I won’t want to.”

She reaches for my face, trying to tell me something—trying to make me understand—but my rattled mind can’t hold onto anything except the terror of the impossible choice closing in around me.

“As touching as this is,” Victor says calmly, “I’m afraid there’s only one choice here, James. You return my Dove in exchange for your brother, or I kill him and then come for her anyway. Either way, you lose.”

I close my eyes as the words carve themselves into me, injecting something poisonous and irreversible into my psyche.

As much as I wish it weren’t so, Victor is right about one thing.

There is no version of this where I walk away untainted. Unscarred.

In my arms, the woman I love tips her face up toward mine. She’s trembling, but her eyes are resolute even through the fear. Her lips move, tears pooling as she whispers the most devastating words anyone has ever said to me.

“Please, James. Let me do this for you.”

Something inside me fractures.

Because this is the woman I love—offering herself up, sacrificing her safety, her freedom—for me. For Tyler.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I truly see it—how badly she needs this. For me to say yes and let her save us. For me to understand how terrified she is for Tyler. For me. How convinced she is that this—this sacrifice—is the only way to stop this madness. The only way to save my brother.

No one has ever done anything like this for us.

No one has ever chosen us like this.

The realization hits harder than any threat Victor has made, carving straight through the certainty I built over a lifetime—the belief that selfless love like this doesn’t exist. Not for men like me. Not for boys like us.

Even so, I know it down to the depths of my soul that when it comes to sacrificing herself to save us, she couldn’t be more wrong.

But I also recognize this is a fight I won’t win right now. Not with fear burning through her like this. Not with Victor still on the goddamn phone, needling and twisting every fragile thread of it tighter.

No.

I need to end this. 

Get Victor to commit to an exchange point. 

Get him off the line.

Then I can get back to figuring out how to save both my brother and the woman I love—because there has to be a way, and I refuse to stop until I find it.

“Fine.” The word leaves my mouth hard, scraping my throat raw. “But you come to us. To a place of my choosing. You bring my brother to me—unharmed—and she’s yours.”

Annelly’s eyes never leave mine as silent tears slip free, tracking down her cheeks. Whether it’s fear, relief, or devastation that I would even say those words, I can’t tell. 

And the possibility that it’s the last one guts me.

Victor laughs—completely unaware of what’s shattering between Annelly and me.

“No. I don’t think so.” He clicks his tongue, like I’m a child who needs correcting. “That’s not how this is going to work. But tell you what—” His voice stays easy. Pleasant. As if we’re planning a dinner reservation instead of discussing the fate of the people I love most in this world. “I’ll look into it. Figure something out. Put together a plan. Then I’ll call you. Sound good?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

“Oh—and James. One last thing.”

My skin goes cold.

“When she left me, she was as pure as a white dove.” He pauses, letting the image rot in the air between us. “She better be returned to me in the same condition.”

I feel Annelly stiffen against me.

“If I find out you’ve soiled her, if you’ve taken the virginity that was never yours to take, I swear to God I’ll slice her throat and send her back to you piece by fucking piece. Do we have an understanding?”

And with that disgusting threat hanging heavy in the air, the line finally clicks dead.

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