“Husband and wife, finally back together.” He smiled viciously. “You look so perfect together.”
Story.
Story.
Story.
The chanting continued, growing louder, and then a loud crash followed. The guards’ eyes widened.
“They’ve broken through,” one said.
My grandfather clenched his jaw, nostrils flared. “This will not stop what I have planned.” My grandfather left to go deal with it, guards following.
“Why are you here?” I gritted. “Was a party really so important?”
“Grayson!” Lottie turned, grabbing my arm. “We have to go before your grandfather gets back. Story and I—”
“Don’t you ever say her name.” I pulled my arm free.
“You are…you are…” Words failed me; nothing save the seething hate in my chest would suffice. I wanted it to burn her. “I never should have left her in your care.”
Her brow pinched. “What are you talking about?”
“You left her. You left her and she died.”
“Story is alive.” She blinked. “Grayson…did he tell you she was dead?”
Hope was an overused match in my chest. Too many times it had burned me, left nothing but ash. And still… “The baby?”
“Is alive. Story and the baby are both alive. She sent you a message hours ago from Gemma’s phone. You didn’t get it?”
“I…” I trailed off, running to my phone before Lottie could finish. I had dropped it after falling asleep, reading her letters to me. There it was, a single notification waiting to be read.
Dear Atlas,
I’m coming home.
I’ll blow up the world, but you promised to build me a kingdom.
I stumbled back, falling against the wall. It felt like a trick. I’d had a month of them, of my grandfather playing the wrong melody with my heartstrings.
“I saw the blood. It was on the beach and…” All this time she’d been alive?
“She almost died,” Lottie said. “The Horsemen saved her. Saved us.”
“She’s alive. She’s…she’s fucking alive? Why the fuck is she here?” Fear hid inside anger, burning my fingertips as I gripped the paper. “Why the fuck did she come back? I told her to stay the fuck away.”
“Grayson!” Lottie gripped my face between her palms. “Everything depends on this. We have a plan to take his company, but what we want to do is nearly impossible. Story is down with the servants, gathering evidence to use against Beryl—but we have no idea how to even use it, or what to do about him and his guards. We want justice.”
Lottie told me their plan, one that hinged on spilling every dark secret we’ve tried to hide.
I think to my mother, to the triplets, to an idea that seemed impossible until now.
For once, it felt like fate was lining up in our favor. While Story was away, building our happily ever after, the missing pieces in our plans lined up.
“We plan to wait until he uses all the coins—”
“No,” I gritted. “He’s already given your mother what she wants. Du Lac and Crowne Industries have merged. We can’t let him use his coins.”