Chapter 72

Chapter 72
Ariana’s POV

The world narrowed to the glow of Callum’s phone screen.

Charlie’s picture. Peaceful, unaware. The caption beneath it slashed like a knife:

You didn’t think I’d forget about her… did you?

My lungs refused to work. Air scraped down my throat in jagged bursts as though each breath had to fight its way in. My little sister—my only sister—was supposed to be safe. Here, in Manhattan. Protected by the very walls of the hospital Callum had promised me was untouchable.

But now, her safety felt like a glass orb I’d been holding too tightly, only to watch it crack in my hands.

Callum’s hand clamped firmly around my wrist. “We’re leaving. Now.”

His voice was steady, commanding, but I could feel the fury radiating through his grip. Julian was already barking orders into his earpiece, his expression a mask of cold precision, but my head swirled too fast to follow.

I stumbled into step beside them, my mind flashing back to the rooftop, to Liam’s voice filtered through static. My stomach clenched, bile threatening to rise. It’s him. He knows where Charlie is.

The SUV roared through Manhattan streets, tinted windows sealing us off from the chaos outside. Callum sat beside me, phone in hand, firing out calls, texts, commands I couldn’t fully process. Every second felt like a countdown, each red light a potential death sentence.

I pressed my palms to my knees to stop them from shaking. “He—he can’t touch her. She’s in the hospital. There are guards—aren’t there guards?”

“Yes.” Callum’s answer was sharp, clipped. Too sharp.

“Then how the hell did he take that photo?” My voice cracked halfway through, the panic seeping out despite my best efforts to stay composed.

Callum’s jaw flexed. His silence said more than words.

I turned toward him, my heart thudding so hard it hurt. “You promised me. You promised Charlie would be safe here.”

“I did make her safe.” His tone cut like steel. “Whoever took that photo didn’t do it from inside. He wants us to believe he has reach he doesn’t. It’s manipulation, Ariana.”

“But it’s Charlie’s room!” I snapped. “That’s not manipulation, that’s proof!”

Julian glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his gaze sharp, almost pitying. “It could’ve been a nurse. A janitor. Someone paid off. Doesn’t mean he’s got men crawling the hospital yet.”

The word yet chilled me more than the photo.

......

Back at the penthouse, Elena opened the door with wide eyes. She knew something was wrong the second she saw my face. Callum didn’t stop to explain—he swept past her, his presence commanding as ever, Julian at his side.

But me? I stood rooted in the foyer, the weight of everything crashing into me all at once.

Charlie. Liam. The rooftop.

And the crushing realization that the walls I thought were unshakable could splinter with a single message.

I barely registered Elena’s hand brushing my arm. “Miss Ariana?”

My knees buckled, and I sank onto the nearest bench, my head in my hands.

Later, when the house had gone quiet—Julian locked in some encrypted call, Callum in his study with that storm brewing behind his eyes—I slipped out onto the balcony.

The city glittered beneath me, alive and indifferent. Each light was a reminder that people out there lived normal lives, untouched by shadows and vendettas. Lives where sisters didn’t become leverage.

The thought of Liam clawed at me. The sound of his voice. That mocking Hello, love. It was like a ghost wearing his skin, resurrected to haunt me. He had been part of my past. A closed chapter. Now, somehow, he was more dangerous than ever—threaded into the same world I’d tried so desperately to avoid.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. For a second, my chest seized with terror.

But it wasn’t Liam.

It was Charlie.

Charlie: Hey sis. Nurses say I might start PT soon. They think I’ll hate it but I’m ready. Gotta get out of this bed sometime, right?

Tears blurred the screen. My fingers trembled as I typed back.

Me: You’re stronger than anyone I know. I’ll be with you every step.

I couldn’t tell her. Not about the photo. Not about Liam. The truth would crush her spirit before her legs had a chance to heal.

But inside, I made a vow so fierce it scared me.

No one—absolutely no one—would touch her. Not while I still had breath.

When I returned inside, Callum was waiting. He leaned against the doorway of his study, tie loosened, eyes shadowed. He looked exhausted, frayed, but when his gaze met mine there was something else. A question. A plea.

“We’ll get ahead of this,” he said quietly.

But my voice, when it came, surprised even me. “I don’t want to just be protected anymore, Callum. I need to be part of this. I can’t keep being left in the dark while decisions are made around me.”

He straightened. “Ariana—”

“No.” I stepped closer, my fists tight at my sides. “Charlie is my sister. My responsibility. If Liam’s using her to get to me, then I should know what’s happening. I should decide what risks I take. Not you. Not Julian.”

For a beat, the room went silent except for the muffled hum of traffic outside.

Then, slowly, he exhaled. “You think I don’t want to tell you? That I don’t want you in the loop? Every time I keep something from you, it’s because I can’t risk losing you.”

My throat tightened. His words hit deep. Too deep.

But the fear of Charlie’s photo still pulsed in my veins, stronger than any comfort.

“I already feel like I’m losing myself,” I whispered.

That night, I barely slept. Every creak of the building made me jolt, every shadow across the ceiling became a threat.

And as dawn crept in, one thought haunted me over and over:

Liam wasn’t just back.

He was close.

Closer than I ever could’ve imagined.

The next morning, Ariana woke to find a sealed envelope slipped under her bedroom door. Her name was written across the front in a scrawl she hadn’t seen in years.

She tore it open with trembling fingers.

Inside was a single photograph.

Her. On the balcony last night.

And a note beneath it:

“You still look beautiful when you’re scared.”