Bound to the calloway's heir

SIENNA.

I lay in the guestroom bed, the luxury sheets felt cool against my skin, but they did nothing to soothe the fire raging inside me. I turned onto my side, facing a window with its drape parted; the sequin lining was transparent enough to see the city. The light's reflection from its streets seeped through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows just as the hum of the air-conditioning system buzzed faintly in the room.

Beside me, Belinda's soft snore filled the silence, her body comfortably tucked under the covers. She had fallen asleep hours ago, oblivious to the storm tearing through me. I had insisted on sharing this room with her, clinging to her familiar presence because being alone that night would have broken me. The flash drive's secrets had left me more terrified than anything.

I twitched my fingers to my neck, itching to reach for the warmth of the locket pendant, but that was gone. The locket had now become my biggest source of panic, its broken pieces tucked inside my jacket pocket across the room. I didn't need to hold it to feel its weight anymore, it wasn't an anchor. I wished I had not opened that folder, knowing that kind of truth which could unravel everything I thought I knew about myself, about him, about the world I had been dragged into. And the worst of it was the truth that clawed at my chest was what he had done to Zane's father.

I turned onto my other side, facing Belinda. She stirred but didn't wake. My eyes traced the faint outline of her profile, her dark curls splayed across the pillow. She was my anchor that night as always. When I begged her to share her room, claiming I just needed company, she hadn't pried, even though I saw the questions in her eyes with shaky hands as I poured us wine earlier.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the gory images that kept flashing behind my lids along with Zane's face. The way his dark eyes seemed to see straight through me was another reason I had decided to sleep next to Bel. I was avoiding the moments when it was just the two of us. I couldn't trust myself around him, not with the information I now had.

Not when his every look and touch made my heart race until my knees weakened. If I let myself get too close and let the words spill out, I would lose him. He would hate me. How could he not? My father had ordered the hit on his father to secure his own power. The undeniable truth was tearing me apart.

I shifted again, feeling the pillow beneath my head become too thin. I tangled my legs in the fabric as I tried to find a position that didn't make me feel like I was suffocating as uneasiness settled over me. I wanted do lots of things at once, to scream, to throw something, to run until my lungs gave out. But I couldn't.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 2:47 a.m. The numbers glowed red, mocking me as sleep slipped further away with every tick of the second hand. My mind churned, replaying the options I had been wrestling with all night. I could tell Zane everything. Lay it all bare. I imagined his face when I tell him of my father's crimes, his father's murder, the blood that stained my family's name. The way his jaw would tighten, the way his eyes would darken with betrayal. He would never look at me the same way again. The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me, and I pressed a hand to my stomach to stop it.

Or I could take the other path. The one my father had wanted for me. The flash drive wasn't just a record of his sins; it was everything I needed to take the wheel: names of allies, enemies, suppliers, and routes. By stepping into his shoes, I would be able to seize control of the cartel he had built. I could become what my father had been: a monster. The idea made my skin crawl. I didn't want that. I didn't want to be a monster that would have to live a life where every decision was stained with blood. But the thought lingered, tempting me. Wielding that kind of power meant safety and control. I wouldn't have to feel this helpless and afraid ever again.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My throat tightened, and I blinked hard, fighting the sting of tears. I wouldn't cry. Not here, not now. Crying wouldn't change what I had learned nor erase the blood on my family's name. I needed a plan, something to hold onto, that would keep me from spiraling into the abyss. I couldn't tell Zane, not yet. But I couldn't sit on that information either, letting it fester inside me until it drove me mad. There had to be a way to make this right, to prove to myself, to Zane, that I wasn't my father.

As the clock chimed 3 am, an idea came slowly, and I sat up, holding my knees up until it touched my chin. I wrapped my arms over my legs, settling my head on my knees. I could use the drive's content not to take over, but to dismantle it all. The rival cartel Zane had been fighting for years, since the details of their names, locations, and weaknesses were in those files, too. If I could take them down, if I could give Zane that victory, maybe it would be enough to rebuild his trust. I would tell him the truth after, when the dust settled, when I had proven I wasn't my father's daughter. Although the idea was a gamble, I was determined to follow through with it. It wouldn't be easy. But it was better than becoming the monster my father wanted, or losing Zane to the truth I was not ready to face.

My racing heartbeat slowly eased as the decision settled over me. I closed my eyes, picturing the look on Zane's face when I handed him the flash and confessed everything, and before begging for his forgiveness.

I turned my head, glancing at Belinda again. Her chest rose and fell calmly, untouched by the chaos that consumed me. Part of me wanted to wake her up and tell her about my dangerous plan, but I didn't have the heart to disturb her peaceful sleep.

I slowly lay back, pulling the blanket higher, and closed my eyes, willing my body to let go of the tension that coiled through every muscle. My decision was made. And as dawn crept closer, my eyelids grew heavy, winning out over the deadly chaos in my mind.

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Belinda leaned against the seat, arms crossed, her eyes tracking my every move. The air between us crackled with unspoken questions, the kind that had been piling up since I had informed her of my deadly decision. I stared ahead at the dinner, where I was sure.

"You sure about this, Sienna?" Belinda's voice cut through the hum of the city with an edge that made my pulse jump. She straightened, leaning closer, "Going out there alone, meeting these people, it's a dangerous risk. You know that."

I forced a smile, hoping it looked more confident than I felt. "I'm not alone. You and Jason are with me."

I turned to look out of the window at the Café. I couldn't let Belinda see how scared I was. Not when I was so close to proving I could handle this and that she could trust me to stand on my own.

Her hand landed gently on my shoulder, and I stiffened. "You don't have to do this to prove anything," she said, her voice almost pleading. "I trust you, Sienna. But these people, they're not playing games. If something goes wrong..."

"It won't." I turned to face her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were etched into the surrounding lines.

"I can handle it, I need to do this, for me. For us."

She studied me for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. "Alright. But you call me the second anything feels off. Promise me."

I nodded, my throat tight. "I promise."

I hopped out of the car, feeling the hair on my neck rise. It wasn't just Belinda and Jason watching me. I could feel other eyes on me, too. This thing, I didn't panic or turn around to discover who they were. It was all in the plan. To draw them to me and meet in public, where I can finally reach them.

I took a deep breath before turning the door knob, then let it out slowly. I stepped into the old café downtown, and it was exactly as I remembered it from the last time I was there, weeks back. It's dim lights, worn leather booths, and the faint scent of coffee and grease hanging in the air. The scarred-faced man had approached me here, and it was the perfect spot to have a meeting with them.

I sat in the same booth I had been in last time, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, the USB drive in my pocket. Outside, Jason and Bel waited in the car, visible through the tinted windows of the black SUV parked across the street. I could feel their watchful eyes on me, but it did little to calm the storm in my chest.

I was terrified. My heart started pounding so hard that I was sure the other patrons could hear it, and my palms were slick with sweat, despite the cool air. But I wasn't the same girl who had sat in this booth months ago, trembling at the sight of the scarred-faced man. Back then, I had been paralyzed by fear, my PTSD turning every shadow into a threat. Now, I know the truth about my family. That knowledge was my power, and I clung to it like a lifeline.

When the bell above the door jingled, my head snapped up on instinct to check who it was, but it was just a tired-looking waitress carrying a tray of empty mugs. I forced myself to breathe. I had chosen this booth deliberately, tucked in the corner where I could see the door but stay out of sight. The scarred-faced man would find me. He always did.

I sipped my coffee as the minutes dragged by while I waited, distracting myself with the other patrons who were enjoying their evening. A couple in the corner laughed over their food, an old man at the counter nursed a beer, and a group of college kids huddled around a laptop, conversing in a hushed tone. No one paid me any attention, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The cartel had eyes everywhere. I learned that the hard way.

A shadow fell over my table, and my breath caught. I looked up, and there he was...the scarred-faced man, sliding into the booth across from me with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times. His face was just as I remembered it, a jagged scar running from his temple to his jaw, pulling his features into a permanent grimace. His eyes were cold and assessing, but there was something else in them now...curiosity, maybe, or amusement. He leaned back, one arm draped over the back of the booth, his leather jacket creaking softly.

"You're not shaking this time," he said, "That's new."

I swallowed, forcing my hands to stay still in my lap. "I'm not the same person I was."

He tilted his head, studying me. "No, you're not. You've got your father's fire now. It took you long enough."

The mention of my father sent a jolt through me, but I didn't flinch. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. "You've been following me, watching me. Let's cut to the chase. What's it going to take to make this stop?"

His lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Straight to the point. I like that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his scarred hands folding together. "You know what we want, Sienna. The fund. The nest egg your father stole. Hand it over, and we're done. No more fights. No more battles with your little boyfriend."

My stomach twisted at the mention of Zane, but I kept my expression neutral. "And if I give it to you? What's to stop you from coming after me again?"

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a chill down my spine. "You don't trust me?"

"Should I?" I shot back,

His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, I saw his expression soften. "Smart girl. But you've got my word. You give us what we want, and we're gone. You and Calloway can play house, live your little lives. We don't care about you. We just want what's ours."

I studied him, searching for a lie in his words, but his gaze was steady, unyielding. My fingers itched to reach for the drive, to pull it out and hand it over right then and there. But I couldn't. Not yet. I needed to be sure.

"And if I say no?" I asked, testing him.

His expression darkened. "Then this gets messy. For you. For Calloway. For everyone you care about."

His words hung in the air, making my heart pound, but I didn't look away. I couldn't afford to. "I'll give you the funds," I said finally. "But I need to know you'll keep your word. No tricks."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "You bring it to the old warehouse by the creek downtown. Tomorrow night. Come alone. That's the only way this works."

The thought of walking into that warehouse alone sent shivers down my spine, but I nodded. "Fine. Alone."

He leaned back, satisfied. "Good. Don't make me regret trusting you, Sienna."

I reached for my coffee, needing something to ground me, to keep my hands from shaking. "I won't," I said.

When I looked up, he was gone. The booth across from me was empty, the air still carrying the faint scent of leather and cigarette smoke. I was scared and terrified, but beneath it all, a fire burned. I was my father's daughter, and I was done running. Tomorrow night, I will face the cartel, hand over the funds, and bring this to a close. For me. For Zane. For the life we could have if I could just prove I was strong enough.

I stood, my legs steady despite the fear clawing at my chest, and walked out of the café, the USB drive in my pocket, which gave me a thrill. Belinda's eyes met mine through the car window, and I gave her a small nod. I was okay. For now. But tomorrow, everything could change.