***
10:00:00
The timer on the screen felt like a noose, tightening with every breath I took.
Ivy. Bound. Bleeding.
Ten hours to save her. Ten hours to stop Lena. Ten hours to decide how far we'd go before we lost ourselves completely.
Jace stood over the kitchen sink, gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His knuckles were white, jaw clenched so tight I thought he might break his teeth.
"We're not waiting ten hours," he said, voice hoarse.
"We don't even know where she is," I whispered, staring at the still image of Ivy's swollen face on the phone. "We don't have a location. A clue. Anything."
He looked at me, something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. "Then we force someone to talk."
***
9:17:43
Tristan.
It had to be him.
He was the connector. The one with hands in every dirty pocket, always pulling the strings from behind the curtain. If anyone knew where Lena was keeping Ivy, it was him.
We found him at the private rooftop lounge of Silk, a high-rise club downtown where reputations got destroyed more often than drinks got poured.
He was leaning against the railing, Armani jacket fluttering in the breeze, a cocktail in hand, and a smile so fake it should've been sponsored.
"Wow," he said as we approached. "If it isn't the infamous ghost of Westview and his tragic little doll."
"Where is she?" Jace growled.
Tristan took a sip, utterly unbothered. "You'll have to narrow it down. I know a lot of she's."
"Ivy," I snapped, stepping closer. "Lena has her. We saw the proof. You have five seconds to tell us where."
"Or what?" Tristan chuckled. "You'll post another video? Please. Savannah's lawyers wiped that faster than you could say 'accessory to murder.'"
Jace didn't speak.
He just moved.
Fast.
He slammed Tristan into the glass railing, fist to throat.
"You think this is a game?" Jace hissed. "You think you're untouchable?"
"I know I am," Tristan gasped, still smirking. "But if you're that desperate…"
His eyes slid to me.
"She's in an old warehouse off Griffith Industrial Road. North side. Cameras, guards, Lena's little psycho theater. Happy?"
Jace dropped him.
Tristan coughed, straightening his collar. "You've got about three hours before Lena does what she promised. Maybe less, if she gets bored."
I turned to leave.
But Tristan wasn't done.
"By the way," he called after me, "when this all explodes—remember who lit the match."
***
6:03:11
Griffith Industrial – Nightfall
The warehouse looked like every horror movie cliché had been dumped into one building.
Rusting walls. Broken windows. Silence thick enough to choke.
We parked a block away. Jace slid a gun into the back of his jeans. I said nothing.
He looked at me as we reached the door. "This isn't who I wanted you to become."
I leaned in, brushed my lips against his jaw. "You made me this."
He kissed me hard, like it might be the last time.
Then we broke the lock and went inside.
***
It smelled like oil and dust and something rotting.
We crept down a hallway. Red light spilled from a door at the end, glowing like a wound. I could hear faint music. A woman humming.
Jace motioned for me to wait behind a stack of crates. I did.
He moved like a shadow, slipping toward the door. Slowly, he pushed it open—
And froze.
"Leah," he called softly. "Come here. Now."
I stepped into the room.
And my heart shattered.
Ivy sat in the center, tied to a steel chair, mouth gagged, eyes swollen but alive.
She wasn't alone.
Lena stood behind her. Blond hair in a tight braid. Pale hands gripping a matchbook.
She smiled at me like an old friend. "You came."
"Let her go," I demanded.
"I will," she said sweetly. "After you hear my story."
I stepped closer. "I already know what you did—"
"No," she snapped, eyes burning. "You know what they told you. You think I'm the villain? I loved Reed. And Jace—your precious knight—let him burn."
Jace stepped in front of me. "I never meant for him to die."
"But he did," Lena said, voice cracking. "And now, someone has to pay."
She lit a match.
Jace pulled the gun.
Ivy screamed behind the gag.
And the world tilted.
***
5:38:12
Gunshot. Smoke. Chaos.
The match fell. A corner of the floor ignited.
Jace lunged. Tackled Lena. The gun went off again.
I rushed to Ivy, hands shaking as I untied the rope.
Lena's scream rang through the warehouse as flames spread.
Jace pinned her to the ground, yelling, "Leah, go! Get Ivy out!"
"I'm not leaving you!"
"I'll be right behind!"
The fire roared.
I dragged Ivy out the back exit, coughing, choking.
We hit the pavement just as the building shuddered with heat.
Then—Jace burst out, carrying Lena, blood on his shirt, rage in his eyes.
He dropped her onto the concrete.
"She dies for this," he said through clenched teeth.
"No," I said firmly. "We expose her. Like the rest. And we end this."
***
4:02:19
We called the press.
Live footage.
Lena, handcuffed and screaming.
Ivy, bruised but alive.
The media devoured it.
Westview secrets. Corruption. Elite cover-ups. It was the scandal of the decade.
Savannah vanished. Tristan fled the country.
And Jace?
He stood beside me as the sun rose over chaos.
***
The Morning After
We were in bed.
Again.
Naked, tangled, exhausted.
He traced circles on my stomach. "So now what?"
I turned to him. "Now we rebuild. From the ashes."
"You're still mine?" he asked, voice raw.
I kissed his mouth, slow and deep. "I was yours before I even knew it."
He flipped me onto my back.
"I'm never letting you go."
His mouth found mine again.
And we burned together one more time—
Not in destruction.
But in rebirth.
***
Just as I drifted to sleep, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown: You think it's over? The game has just begun.
And beneath it…
A photo.
Of my mother.
Tied to a chair.
With Savannah standing behind her—smiling.