Chapter 3: The Price of Blood
The hospital room was sterile, white, and smelled of antiseptic. I woke up hours later, hooked to a monitor that beeped in a steady, comforting rhythm.
Callum was sitting in the chair next to me, his head in his hands. He looked ten years older than the man who had kissed my forehead that morning.
"The baby?" I asked, my voice a rasp.
"He's strong," Callum said, his voice thick with emotion. "You both are. But you had a placental abruption from the impact. If we had been ten minutes later..."
He didn't finish. He reached out and took my hand, his grip so tight it hurt.
"I'm going to destroy them, Arden," he said, his voice flat, devoid of mercy. "Not just your parents. All of them. Ryker's father, Lyric—every single one of them who watched this happen."
"Callum, you can't—"
"I am not the man you think I am," he interrupted.
I blinked, looking at my husband—the man I had been married to for three years. "What do you mean?"
"The property closings in Salem?" He let out a dark, mirthless chuckle. "I don't do real estate. I do high-stakes corporate liquidation and asset recovery. I don't buy houses, Arden. I dismantle empires that prey on the weak. I have been waiting for a reason to dismantle your family’s entire world since the day I met you and saw how they treated you."
May you like
I felt a chill go through me. "You knew?"
"I knew they were vultures. I was just waiting for them to finally make a mistake big enough to warrant a complete purge."
