Chapter 4

• The kid looked like he thought I might kill him.
• The second I sat down next to him, his face went ghost-white. He curled into himself like I was a loaded gun pointed at his chest.
• But I didn’t speak. Didn’t move. I didn’t have the energy to comfort anyone. My temples were pounding, my mouth dry from too many forced drinks, and my stomach churned from hours of playing nice with men who reeked of power and whiskey. I leaned back against the wall, shut my eyes, and let the silence take me.
• Sleep wasn’t peaceful. It never was. Not in my world. But exhaustion dragged me under anyway.
• I don’t know how long I was out minutes, maybe longer. But when I came to, something warm pressed against my leg.
• At first, I thought I was dreaming again. But then I looked down.
• The little boy was curled into my side, his tiny body tucked against me like I was his anchor in a storm. His small hand gripped the edge of my shirt with surprising strength, like letting go meant losing something he couldn’t afford to lose.
• I blinked, stunned.
• Then… I laughed.
• It wasn’t loud. Just a breath of disbelief.
• He reminded me of a cat I once had back in the countryside, before my world turned cold and expensive. That cat was a coward, always darting away at the first sign of footsteps. But if you ignored it long enough, it would creep back, cautiously curling beside you like you were something safe. Something warm.
• This boy… he was just like that.
• His little face flushed when he realized I was watching him, but the fear was gone now. In its place was something softer curiosity. Hesitant, but present.
• God. He even had those wide, glassy eyes. Big and searching. Like he was still deciding if I was good or bad.
• My fingers itched to touch him. To smooth that messy hair back, just once.
• I gave in.
• The moment my palm touched his head, my heart dropped.
• He was burning up.
• I jerked back, pressing my hand to his forehead again to be sure.
• Shit.
• “You’re running a fever,” I murmured.
• Panic clawed at my gut. Candice wouldn’t unlock that door until morning at the earliest. If he kept burning like this…
• I stood quickly, searching the room with frantic eyes. There was no clock. No phone. No exit. Just darkness, boxes, and a child who might not make it to daylight.
• But then… light.
• I froze.
• The overhead bulb was dead, and yet… a faint glow stretched across the dusty floor.
• I looked up.
• A skylight. Small, high, but there.
• Hope surged through me like ice water.
• I moved fast, dragging a rusted ladder from the corner of the room, its metal legs screeching across the concrete.
• I crouched beside him. “Little bun, come here. I’ll lift you out.”
• His eyes met mine, and for the first time since we met, he moved.
• But instead of coming toward me… he shook his head.
• Firm. Final.
• “What?” I whispered, confused. “Why not? You need help. You're burning up.”
• He didn’t speak. Just gripped the hem of my shirt tighter.
• And in that moment, I realized
• He didn’t want to leave me behind.
• My throat tightened.
• I’d seen loyalty. The toxic kind. The kind that came with blood contracts and whispered threats. But this… this was something else.
• A child. Sick. Scared. And still unwilling to run unless I was running too.
• “You stubborn little thing,” I murmured, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. “You don’t even know me.”
• But maybe he did.
• Maybe he saw something in me I’d long buried under armor and anger. Maybe in his eyes, I wasn’t just another ghost in a world full of monsters.
• And maybe… just maybe, I didn’t want to be.
• He didn’t say a word, but his eyes said enough.
• I could feel his fear his refusal to leave me. As if he thought stepping through that skylight meant abandoning something sacred.
• “You’re a loyal one, huh?” I murmured, smiling faintly. My fingers brushed against his cheek as I leaned in. “Trying to suffer with me like a little soldier?”
• His skin was too warm. Still feverish. Still fragile.
• I tucked the hair away from his damp forehead. “I can’t fit through that window, baby bun. It’s too small for me.” I pointed up toward the narrow shaft of light. “But you? You’re tiny. You can slip through and get help. Be my little escape plan, yeah?”
• He hesitated.
• Of course he did.
• I didn’t blame him this world chews people up and spits them out. Trust doesn’t come easy. Especially not when you’re young and already haunted.
• I sighed, wrapped my arms around him, and before he could protest, I hoisted him onto the ladder. “No hesitation,” I whispered. “If you’re a man, prove it. Climb.”
• He looked down at me. Those dark eyes so much older than they should’ve been. I gave him a wink. “I’ve got you. I’ll protect you from the bottom.”
• And he moved.
• It was slow, shaky, but he climbed.
• I should’ve felt relief.
• But the second he reached the top, my body betrayed me.
• The room spun. My vision blurred. My knees buckled, and the world dropped out from beneath me.
• I fell.
• Hard.
• The breath left my lungs like a gunshot.
• Somewhere above, I heard a gasp. A soft thud as little palms pressed against the edge of the skylight. Panic radiated from him like a siren.
• My mouth was dry, but I forced one word past my lips. “Go…”
• Under the stars, the air tasted like rust and dust and something almost like regret.
• The pain in my back screamed, but it was the ache in my chest that hollowed me out.
• I stared up at the night sky through the small window my lifeline, my coffin lid and for one breathless second, I forgot everything. The betrayal. The ambition. The war I’d been waging with the world.
• If I died here… at least I saved him.
• At least I did something right.
• I let out a shaky laugh. Bitter. Soft.
• So this was how it ended?
• Not in a blaze of glory or in a hail of bullets from my family’s enemies, but in a dusty storeroom, my bones cracked, my dreams rotting beneath me?
• I’d come so far.
• Five years ago, the world flipped on its head.
• The car crash. The blood. The child I never got to hold.
• They shipped me off to America, as if distance could clean up disgrace. A fancy school full of broken heirs and trust-fund criminals. They thought I’d vanish in that elite wasteland.
• I didn’t.
• I clawed my way out.
• Dropped out. Re-enrolled. Fought for every grade like it was a weapon. I learned everything business, language, psychology. I devoured it all with a single, burning need:
• Revenge.
• And when I came back?
• I had the face. The name. The pedigree.
• I had sharpened my talent until it could cut diamonds.
• Candice saw the shine, and I let her take me into Starlight Entertainment this kingdom of lights and lies.
• But what good was any of it?
• Vanessa followed me like a parasite, bribed her way into my manager’s pocket, and choked every step I took. No matter how hard I worked, she was always there bleeding my success dry, poisoning the well.
• But even now, broken and breathless on a cold floor, I wasn’t finished.
• Not yet.
• Not until I burned her world down.
• I closed my eyes, letting the silence fill my ears.
• And somewhere above, the little bun was still watching. Still trying to decide if I was going to get back up.
• I would.
• For him.
• For the child I lost.
• For the woman I swore I’d become.
• Because this wasn't the end.
• This was the beginning.