Chapter 54 Lines Drawn In Blood And Ink ( Demilia’s POV)
By the third day, it hit me that the truth doesn’t hand out peace. It strips you bare. And when you’re exposed, the sharks start circling.
My house didn’t feel safe anymore. It was just a glass box, every inch see-through, every move watched. Calls logged, visitors checked, footsteps echoing with the knowledge that someone, somewhere, was keeping track. Waiting for a weak spot.
I sat at the table, hands wrapped around a mug of cold tea, staring at sunlight shining across the polished wood. It looked beautiful, but meaningless. Money wasn’t a shield now. If anything, it made it easier to spot.
Ethan was across from me, buried in paperwork, his pen never stopping.
“What are you working on?” My voice barely made it out.
“Emergency trusts,” he said, eyes on the papers. “For you. For the baby.”
A lump formed in my throat. “You think they’ll freeze everything.”
“They will,” he said. “It’s already started.”
I shoved the cup away. “So you’re getting ready for prison.”
He stopped writing.
“For contingency,” he said.
“Don’t lie,” I told him. My voice was steady, even though my insides were shaking. “Not now.”
He set the pen down and looked at me. “I don’t know how this ends.”
That was the truest thing I’d ever heard from him.
Then a sharp knock broke the tension.
Adrian walked in, jaw clenched, shoulders tight. This wasn’t just more bad news.
“They released a statement,” he said.
“Who?” I asked.
“The task force. They’re calling your brother a key cooperating witness.”
My heart jumped. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Adrian shook his head. “It would be, if he were still in their custody.”
Silence crashed down.
Ethan rose, slow and careful. “Say that again.”
“They announced his cooperation, but no one knows where he is right now.”
Cold dread spread through me.
“They’re using his name,” I whispered, “but not his body.”
Adrian’s face was grim. “Someone else has him.”
My knees almost gave out. I grabbed the table. “Why would they do that?”
Ethan’s voice was dark. “A dead witness is a martyr. But a missing one? That’s a warning.”
That word warning settled in my chest like ice. It wasn’t just for me; it was for anyone thinking about speaking up.
“They’re showing you the cost,” Adrian said. “But they haven’t forced you to pay it yet.”
I laughed, or maybe sobbed. “They think fear will shut me up.”
Ethan crossed the room and lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“You’re not alone,” he said. “And you’re not giving up.”
I swallowed. “They have my brother.”
“They’ve had him for a long time,” Ethan said. “They just stopped pretending.”
Later, the lawyer arrived.
She wasn’t Ethan’s usual. This woman was older, sharper, eyes like searchlights.
“I’m Celeste Moore,” she said, shaking my hand. “I don’t defend empires. I tear them down.”
Something about her made me breathe easier.
She scattered files across the table, neat and efficient. “They’re painting you as unstable.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Pregnant,” she went on. “Traumatized. Emotional. They’re hinting you’re being manipulated.”
“By Ethan,” I guessed.
She nodded, ignoring Adrian’s little smirk. “By him too.”
“They’re also laying the groundwork to challenge your testimony if this goes criminal.”
My stomach dropped. “How?”
“They’ll claim your memories are shaky. Recovered trauma, repressed recall, memories showing up right when they need them.”
Anger flared in my chest. “So they’re calling me a liar.”
“They’re calling you human. In court, sometimes that’s enough.”
Ethan slapped his hand on the table, just hard enough to make a point. “Then we skip court.”
Celeste shot him a look. “Meaning?”
“We go public again. This time, with proof.”
Adrian frowned. “That speeds everything up.”
Ethan nodded. “Including the fallout.”
Celeste studied him, then turned to me. “What do you want?”
The whole room seemed to freeze.
I took a shaky breath. “Immunity for the women. All of them—survivors, witnesses, anyone who speaks.”
Celeste nodded. “That’s doable.”
“And I want my brother found. Alive.”
Adrian looked away. Ethan’s jaw clenched.
“And,” I said, my voice dropping, “I want whoever’s really running things named.”
Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the hardest part.”
I met her gaze. “Then start there.”
She smiled, just a little. “I was hoping you’d say that.”