IRIS' POV
The ropes around my wrists were tight but not painful.
That was my first clue something was wrong.
Kidnappers don't care about your comfort. They tie you up to hurt you, to scare you, to make you helpless.
These ropes were just for show.
I looked at the woman who claimed to be Adrian's mother. She was pacing the warehouse, checking her phone every few seconds, looking nervous.
"He's coming," she muttered. "He has to be coming."
"Who are you really?" I asked.
She stopped pacing. "I told you. I'm Adrian's mother. Elena Thorne."
"No, you're not. You can't be." I kept my voice calm, reasonable. "Adrian's mother died twenty years ago. He buried her. There were witnesses."
"The witnesses saw what they were supposed to see. A woman who looked like me. A closed casket." Elena sat down across from me. "Marcus arranged it all. Made everyone believe I was dead."
"Why would you let your son think you were dead for twenty years?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "To protect him. If Adrian knew I was alive, he would have come looking for me. And they would have killed him."
"They? You mean your husband? Adrian's father?"
"Yes. And Marcus. And others." She wiped her eyes. "You have to understand—Adrian's father wasn't a good man. He was powerful, cruel, dangerous. When I got pregnant with Adrian, he wanted me to get rid of the baby. I refused. So he made my life hell."
This matched what Adrian had told me. But something still felt off.
"If you were alive all this time, why come back now? Why today?"
Elena looked away. "Because Miranda contacted me last week. Told me what she was planning. How she was going to destroy Adrian's life, take everything he'd built." Her voice shook. "I couldn't let that happen. So I came back to warn him. To help him."
"But Miranda is your twin sister. Why would she tell you her plan?"
"Because she's trying to protect me too. In her own twisted way." Elena stood up again. "She thinks Adrian is just like his father. That he's cruel and heartless. She wants to destroy him before he becomes the monster his father was."
I tested the ropes again. Definitely loose enough to slip out of if I needed to.
"Adrian isn't cruel," I said. "He's been trying to avenge you for twenty years. Everything he's built, every person he's destroyed—it was all to get justice for you."
"I know." Elena's voice broke. "That's why I have to stop this. Before he does something he can't take back."
The warehouse door slammed open.
Adrian stood in the entrance, breathing hard, looking wild and dangerous.
"Mom?" His voice cracked on the word.
Elena turned to face him. "Hello, baby."
They stared at each other across the warehouse. Twenty years of grief and anger and loss hanging between them.
Then Adrian was moving, running toward her, pulling her into his arms.
"You're alive," he whispered. "You're really alive."
"I'm so sorry." Elena was crying now. "I'm so sorry I left you. I'm sorry for everything."
I should look away. Give them privacy. This was a private moment.
But I couldn't stop watching Adrian's face. The way twenty years of pain seemed to melt away as he held his mother.
That's when I noticed something.
Elena's left hand, the one Adrian couldn't see, was making a signal.
Three fingers down. Two up.
A code.
And behind Adrian, the warehouse shadows moved.
"Adrian, look out!" I screamed.
But I was too late.
Men in black masks rushed forward. Five of them. They grabbed Adrian, pulling him away from Elena.
He fought back hard, taking down two of them. But there were too many.
They slammed him against the wall, holding him there.
"Mom!" Adrian shouted. "Run! Get out of here!"
But Elena didn't run.
She walked calmly toward Adrian, her tears gone, her face cold.
"I'm sorry, son," she said quietly. "But this is the only way."
My blood turned to ice.
"You're working with them," I whispered. "With your husband. With Miranda. With all of them."
Elena didn't deny it. She just looked sad.
"I never wanted it to come to this. But Adrian, you've been a problem for twenty years. Always digging. Always asking questions. Always trying to destroy your father's legacy." She nodded to the men holding him. "It's time to end this."
Adrian's face went white. "Everything you said was a lie. You're not here to protect me."
"No. I'm here to finish what should have been done when you were born." Elena pulled out a gun. "I'm here to erase my biggest mistake."
The warehouse door burst open again.
This time it was Damien. And behind him—my father, Patricia, Vivienne, Marcus, even Judge Morrison.
Everyone. All of them. Together.
"Let him go," Damien said. His voice was steady, commanding. "This ends now, Mother."
Mother?
I looked between them. Damien and Elena.
"Oh God," I breathed. "Elena isn't Adrian's mother. She's yours."
Damien nodded. "Adrian's real mother died in that hospital twenty years ago. This woman—she's been pretending to be Elena to get close to Adrian. To destroy him from the inside."
"But why?" Adrian asked. His voice was broken. "Why pretend to be my mother? Why give me hope just to take it away?"
The fake Elena smiled. "Because your real mother was my best friend. And your father killed her. Pushed her down those stairs because she refused to give up custody of you." Her eyes went cold. "So I've spent twenty years planning my revenge. Against him. Against you. Against everyone who had a hand in her death."
"But I was a child. I didn't—"
"You're his son. His heir. His legacy." She raised the gun. "And killing you will hurt him more than anything else could."
The men holding Adrian tightened their grip.
I pulled against my ropes—they came loose just like I'd suspected.
But before I could move, before anyone could do anything, the warehouse exploded with light.
Police. Dozens of them. Pouring in from every entrance.
"FBI! Nobody move!"
Everyone froze.
A woman in a black suit stepped forward. She had a badge and a gun and authority in every movement.
"Elena Hartwell, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and about fifteen other charges." She looked at fake Elena. "We've been listening to everything. The wire your son Damien was wearing caught every word."
Damien was working with the FBI?
The agents moved in, grabbing fake Elena and her men. Putting them in handcuffs.
Adrian slumped against the wall, looking like he might collapse.
I finally got free of my ropes and ran to him.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"My mother is really dead." He wasn't crying. He was too shocked to cry. "She's been dead this whole time. That woman was just—"
"I know." I held him. "I'm so sorry."
The FBI agent approached us. "Mr. Thorne, we need to ask you some questions. About your father, about Marcus Westbrook, about—"
"Later," I interrupted. "He needs a minute."
She looked like she might argue. Then she nodded. "You have ten minutes."
We sat on the warehouse floor while chaos happened around us. Police arrested people. Paramedics checked injuries. Everyone was talking, shouting, trying to figure out what happened.
"Thank you," Adrian said quietly. "For warning me. You saved my life."
"You saved mine first. Remember?"
He almost smiled. "Is this going to become a pattern? Taking turns saving each other?"
"Probably."
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out, expecting another threat. Another trap.
Instead, it was a text from Sophia.
*I'm okay. The FBI found me two hours ago. Where are you? Are you safe?*
I laughed. It came out half-sob.
"Sophia's safe," I told Adrian. "The FBI got her."
"Good. That's good." He stood up slowly. "We should go. Before they start asking questions I don't have answers to."
We made it three steps before someone called out.
"Adrian. Wait."
Damien walked toward us. He looked terrible—exhausted, scared, guilty.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For everything. For leaving you at the altar, Iris. For believing every lie they told me about you, Adrian. For not seeing the truth sooner."
"Why should I believe anything you say?" I asked. "You've lied before."
"Because I'm the one who called the FBI. Six months ago, when I first started suspecting my mother was involved in something bad." He looked at Adrian. "And because I finally understand why you've been trying to destroy Dad's company. He deserves it. For what he did to your real mother. For what he did to you."
Adrian studied him for a long moment. "Are we really brothers?"
"Half-brothers. Different mothers, same terrible father." Damien held out his hand. "I know you probably hate me. But maybe someday we could—"
"No," Adrian interrupted.
Damien's face fell.
"Someday is too far away. If we're going to be brothers, we start now." Adrian took his hand. "But if you ever hurt Iris again, I'll destroy everything you love. Understood?"
"Understood."
They shook hands. Two brothers meeting for the first time. Starting over.
The FBI agent approached again. "Mr. Thorne, we really need those statements now."
"One more minute," Adrian said.
He turned to me. Pulled me close.
"Thank you," he whispered against my hair. "For everything. For being brave. For being smart. For being exactly what I needed."
"We're married. It's in the contract, remember? I have to help you."
"Forget the contract." He pulled back to look at me. "Iris, I—"
A gunshot rang out.
Adrian's eyes went wide.
He stumbled backward.
Red spread across his white shirt.
"Adrian!" I screamed.
He collapsed in my arms.
I looked up, trying to find the shooter.
But they were already gone, disappeared into the chaos.
"Help!" I shouted. "Someone help! He's been shot!"
Paramedics rushed over. They pushed me aside, working on Adrian, trying to stop the bleeding.
So much blood.
Too much blood.
"Stay with me," I begged. "Adrian, please. Don't leave me."
His eyes found mine. "The contract," he whispered. "In my office. Third drawer. Get it."
"What? Why—"
"Just get it. Before—" He coughed. More blood. "Before it's too late. Read the last page. The real last page."
"I don't understand—"
"Trust me." His eyes closed. "One last time. Trust me."
Then the paramedics were lifting him onto a stretcher, rushing him toward an ambulance.
I tried to follow but someone held me back.
"Let them work," the FBI agent said. "You can't help him right now."
I watched the ambulance speed away, sirens screaming.
Adrian was dying.
And his last words were about a contract.
What was on that last page?
What had he hidden from me?
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number. Of course.
*He's not going to make it. The bullet hit his heart.He has maybe an hour. But don't worry, Mrs. Thorne—you'll be joining him soon. Because there's one more person who needs to die tonight. You. —Your Loving Father*
I stared at the message.
My father was going to kill me.
Tonight.
And Adrian might not survive to save me this time.