Caden's POV
The hospital is pitch black.
I run through the emergency-lit hallways, my heart pounding like a war drum. Security is dealing with the power outage. Nurses are managing panicking patients. Nobody stops me as I sprint toward Marion's room.
I round the corner and freeze.
Lennox is on the floor, pressed against the wall, her phone's flashlight trembling in her hand. She's searching the darkness like something's hunting her.
"Lennox!" I drop beside her, grabbing her shoulders. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
She looks at me with wild, terrified eyes. "Someone was here. In the hallway. I heard footsteps but when I turned on the light—" Her voice breaks. "They were gone. Caden, someone's watching me."
I pull her against my chest, scanning the shadows. The hallway is empty now, but my instincts scream danger. "Come on. We're leaving. Now."
"Marion—"
"Jamie's with her. Security's posted at her door. You're the target." I haul Lennox to her feet and keep her close as we move toward the exit.
She's shaking so badly she can barely walk. I wrap my arm around her waist, practically carrying her through the hospital. My mind races through possibilities. Victoria. Marcus. Vivian. Unknown accomplice. Too many enemies. Too many threats.
We make it to my car in the parking garage. I shove Lennox inside and peel out before she even has her seatbelt on.
"Where are we going?" she asks.
"Somewhere safe. My cabin. Off the grid. No one knows about it except—" I stop myself before saying "except you." But she does know. We used to dream about that cabin when we were kids. About running away together and building a life far from everyone's opinions.
I built it three years ago. Never told anyone why.
The twenty-minute drive passes in tense silence. I keep checking the rearview mirror for followers. Lennox stares out the window, tears sliding down her face, her whole body trembling.
When we finally pull up to the cabin—hidden deep in the woods, surrounded by trees—Lennox makes a small, broken sound.
"You actually built it," she whispers. "The cabin from our dreams."
"Don't," I say roughly, killing the engine. "Don't make this about us. I built it as an investment property."
It's a lie. She knows it's a lie.
Inside, I turn on lights and check every room, every window, every lock. When I'm satisfied we're secure, I find Lennox standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the fireplace.
Above it hangs a photograph.
The photograph. The one she took of me when we were eighteen, laughing in the rain, completely soaked and ridiculously happy. She entered it in a photography contest and won first place. Said it captured "pure joy."
I should have taken it down years ago.
"Caden—" Her voice breaks completely.
That's when she collapses.
Not dramatically. Not for attention. She just... crumbles. Drops to the floor like her legs gave out. Like the weight of everything finally crushed her.
I'm beside her in a heartbeat, catching her before she hits the ground. "Lennox, breathe. You're okay. You're safe."
"I'm not okay!" The words explode from her. "Nothing's okay! Vivian destroyed everything! She made me leave you! She ruined my career! She—" Sobs cut off her words.
"What do you mean she made you leave?" I grip her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. "Lennox, what happened?"
Between gasping sobs, the truth pours out.
Vivian manipulating a grieving seventeen-year-old. Convincing her that loving me meant trapping me in poverty. Promising to pay for photography school if Lennox left and never contacted me. Making her believe she was saving me.
"I thought—" Lennox can barely speak through her tears. "I thought if I stayed, you'd end up like my parents. In love and broke and dying too young. Vivian said I'd ruin your life. That you'd resent me eventually. I was so scared, Caden. So scared of destroying you."
My entire world tilts on its axis.
She didn't leave because she stopped loving me.
She left because she loved me too much.
Ten years. Ten years of hating her. Ten years of building walls and empires and cold business deals. Ten years of believing I wasn't enough.
And it was all a lie.
"I sent you money," Lennox whispers, wiping her face with shaking hands. "Anonymously. Every month. It was all I could do—the only way I could help you without breaking Vivian's rules. I couldn't come back. I couldn't call. But I couldn't abandon you completely either."
"I know," I say quietly. The confession surprises her. "I figured out it was you within six months. The amounts. The timing. It had to be you."
"Then why didn't you—"
"Because I was angry." I take her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. "And hurt. And too proud to admit I needed you. So I used that money to build Rivers Tech. Every dollar you sent, I turned into thousands, then millions. Do you know why?"
She shakes her head, tears streaming.
"Because I was going to find you," I admit, the words ripping from somewhere deep inside. "I was going to build an empire big enough that no one—not Vivian, not money problems, not fear—could ever separate us again. I was going to prove to you that I was worth staying for. That choosing me wasn't a mistake."
Lennox's eyes go wide. "Caden—"
"But then I saw you were engaged to Marcus. Living your dream life in New York. And I thought—" My voice cracks. "I thought you'd moved on. That you never loved me like I loved you. That I'd built all of this for nothing."
"I never moved on," she breathes. "I tried. God, I tried so hard. But Marcus was just—he was safe. He didn't make me feel like you did. Didn't make me ache and burn and come alive. I thought maybe safe was better. Maybe safe meant I could finally stop hurting."
"Did it work?"
"No." Fresh tears fall. "I thought about you every single day. Checked your name online constantly. Saw you building your empire and felt so proud and so heartbroken because I wasn't there with you. I never stopped loving you, Caden. Not for one single day."
The words break something in me. Ten years of armor shattering in one confession.
"I built everything to forget you," I admit, my voice raw. "Every success was supposed to prove I didn't need you. That I could be happy without you. But you're still the only thing that matters. And I hate myself for it."
Our faces are inches apart. Her breath comes in short gasps. My heart pounds against my ribs.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry for leaving. For believing Vivian. For not fighting harder—"
I kiss her.
Not gentle. Not sweet. Desperate and angry and heartbroken. Ten years of longing and pain and love exploding in one moment.
Lennox kisses back just as desperately, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer. She tastes like tears and regret and home.
We break apart gasping.
"I love you," I say against her lips. "I never stopped. I never will. Even when I hated you, I loved you."
"I love you too," she breathes. "I'm so sorry—"
"Stop apologizing." I kiss her again, softer this time. "We were kids. We were manipulated. We both made mistakes. But we're here now. We get a second chance."
She nods, crying and laughing at the same time. I pull her into my arms and hold her like I should have ten years ago. Like I should never have let go.
For one perfect moment, nothing else matters. Not Victoria. Not Marcus. Not conspiracies or revenge or business deals.
Just us. Finally us.
Then my phone buzzes.
I ignore it. Kiss Lennox again. Try to stay in this bubble where we're safe and together and—
The phone buzzes again. And again. Urgent.
"Check it," Lennox says quietly, pulling back. "It might be important."
I grab my phone, ready to throw it across the room if it's anything less than an emergency.
It's a video message from an unknown number.
I open it, and my blood turns to ice.
The video shows Marion's hospital room. Marion sleeping peacefully in her bed. The timestamp says it was filmed ten minutes ago.
A hand reaches into frame—gloved, unidentifiable—and places a syringe on Marion's bedside table.
Then text appears on the screen:
"She looks so peaceful. It would be a shame if something happened during her recovery. Tell Lennox to drop all charges against Vivian by tomorrow morning, or Marion has a tragic 'complication' during the night. No police. No heroes. Just compliance. You have 12 hours. —A Friend"
The video ends.
Lennox sees my face. "What? What is it?"
I can't speak. Can't move. Can't think past the rage and terror flooding my system.
They're threatening Marion.
They're using a sick woman as leverage.
And if we don't comply, they'll kill her.
"Caden, you're scaring me." Lennox grabs my arm. "What's wrong?"
I show her the video.
She watches it once. Twice. Then drops the phone like it burned her.
"No," she whispers. "No, no, no. They can't—she just had surgery—she's helpless—"
"I'm calling security. And police. And—"
"NO!" Lennox grabs my phone. "They said no police! If we tell anyone, they'll kill her! Caden, we have to do what they say!"
"We're not negotiating with terrorists," I say firmly. "We're going to—"
My phone buzzes again.
Another message. Another video.
This one shows Jamie. Tied to a chair. Duct tape over her mouth. Terror in her eyes.
The text below reads:
"Still want to play hero? Drop the charges. Both of you come to the old Rivers Automotive garage alone at midnight. No phones. No backup. Or both women die. Clock's ticking."
Lennox stares at the screen, her face white as death.
"They have Jamie," she breathes. "They have Marion in the hospital and Jamie somewhere else and—" She looks at me with desperate, terrified eyes. "What do we do?"
I pull her close, my mind racing through scenarios. None of them are good.
Someone just declared war.
And they're willing to kill to win.