Chapter 124 The Real Target
Lucian's POV
I answered on the second ring, my voice carefully neutral even though seeing her name on my screen had made my pulse spike. "Briar."
"The woman Ash met at the café," she said without preamble, her words coming fast. "My PR Director just told me someone saw him there yesterday with a blonde woman who had six bodyguards. That's not normal for a casual coffee date."
I said, "I'm looking into it."
The silence stretched between us, filled only with the sound of our breathing.
"Lucian," she said finally, her voice quieter. "Is he going to be okay?"
"He's stable. The doctors say he'll make a full recovery."
"Good. That's good." Another pause.
"Take care of yourself," I said, the words coming out rougher than I intended. Then I ended the call before I could say anything else.
I pocketed my phone and headed back toward Ash's room, but stopped when it buzzed. My PI calling back.
"Tell me you found something."
"I found something, but you're not going to like it." His voice was grim. "The surveillance footage around the bar has been systematically destroyed. Cameras were down for 'routine maintenance.' Every traffic camera on surrounding blocks experienced technical failures at exactly the right time. The city's official explanation? They were assisting police with an unrelated manhunt."
I leaned against the wall, my fist clenching until my knuckles went white. "Someone planned this. Someone with enough resources to coordinate a citywide surveillance blackout."
"That's my assessment. Whoever did this had professional help. This wasn't random—this was calculated."
I ended the call and took the stairs to the roof, needing air. The night was cold and clear, city lights spreading below like a constellation. I lit a cigarette, replaying everything.
The attack on Ash. The convenient timing that framed Julian. My confrontation with him in that alley, and the genuine confusion in his eyes. If Julian had really orchestrated this, he would have admitted it. He would have thrown it in my face with that sick pride of his.
But he hadn't. He'd looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
Which meant someone else did this. Someone who wanted me to think it was Julian, who wanted to drive a wedge between us so deep we'd never repair it.
I exhaled smoke into the night air and followed the logic. Attack Ash, frame Julian, I confront Julian and destroy our fragile truce, Father finds out and uses it as leverage to force me back into the family, I'm separated from Briar and lose everything.
Except that wasn't quite right. If that was the real goal, why leave clues pointing to the café? Why make sure we could trace it back to a blonde woman with bodyguards?
Unless Julian wasn't the target at all. Unless he was the one being isolated, set up to lose everything.
I laughed, a cold sound with no humor.
---
When I got back to Ash's room, he was awake, staring at the ceiling with tear tracks on his face that he tried to hide when he heard me.
"I know you're awake," I said, pulling up a chair.
He opened his eyes reluctantly. "Am I going to have scars?"
"Probably. But they'll fade with time and proper treatment."
His face crumpled and he turned away. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending everything's fine. Why did this happen to me? I've never even been in a real fight. I don't understand why someone would do this."
I grabbed gauze and carefully wiped the tears from his face, avoiding the bandages. "Don't cry. You'll irritate the wounds."
"I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I'm trying not to, but it hurts so much and I'm scared and I don't know who did this or why."
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." I set the gauze aside. "Did you notice anyone suspicious before the attack? Anyone following you or watching you?"
He was quiet, thinking. Then his eyes widened. "There was a woman at the café earlier that day. Really beautiful, blonde, had bodyguards with her. She seemed nice though. We talked for a while and she bought me coffee."
Every muscle in my body went rigid. "What was her name?"
"She said her name was Willow Davenport."
The gauze in my hand tore in half. I felt my blood turn to ice, felt my wolf surge forward with rage so intense that for a moment I couldn't see anything except red.
I forced myself to breathe, to push the wolf back, to think. She'd approached Ash deliberately, made sure to be seen with him, left a trail back to her. She wanted us to know it was her.
The answer came slowly. She'd attacked Ash to create conflict between Julian and me, then left clues so we'd eventually figure out she was involved—which meant she wanted us to redirect our anger at her instead of Julian. She was protecting him, isolating him from everyone else so she'd be the only person he could turn to.
I carefully set down the torn gauze and pulled the blanket over Ash. "Get some rest. I'll take care of this."
I walked out and let the door close behind me. In the empty hallway, I felt my eyes flash gold as my wolf pushed forward, demanding action. If Willow wanted to play games, if she wanted to use my family as pieces on her chessboard, then I'd show her exactly what happened when you threatened a Kincaid.
She wasn't just crazier than Julian. She was more vicious, more calculating, more dangerous. Let's see whose chessboard is bigger, whose methods are more ruthless.
---
Briar's POV
I got the café's location and headed there immediately. The manager recognized me from the photos I showed him.
"Oh yes, that woman was here. She left something for you, actually. Said if anyone came asking about her, I should give them this."
He handed me a photograph. My hands started shaking the moment I looked at it. It showed Ash's back as he handed a coffee cup to a blonde woman at a table. You could only see half her face, but it was enough. She was smiling directly at the camera, one eye staring straight into the lens like she was looking through the photo at whoever would eventually see it.
It was Willow.
I walked outside on unsteady legs and leaned against the brick wall. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the evening air. This wasn't random. She'd planned this, made sure to leave evidence, wanted us to find her.
I thought back to every interaction I'd had with Willow, trying to understand the unease I'd always felt around her. Now I understood. It was the same instinct that made you avoid beautiful but venomous creatures—the primal recognition that something was fundamentally wrong.
I remembered seeing her that night in the rain, walking toward Julian with a black umbrella, and something clicked into place. I wasn't sure exactly what it meant yet, but I was starting to understand.
My phone was in my hand before I could think about it. I typed out a message to Lucian, deleted it, rewrote it three times before finally just sending: [Willow?]
I waited, my heart pounding, watching the screen. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Then finally: [Yes.]
One word, but it confirmed everything. Lucian knew. He'd figured it out too. And knowing him, he was probably already planning how to handle this quietly, how to make Willow pay without causing a scene.
But I didn't want quiet. I didn't want careful. I was so tired of being the one who played by the rules while everyone else got to break them.
"Screw that," I muttered, my eyes flashing gold. "People fight for what they believe in. That's what being alive means."
If Willow wanted to play games, if she thought she could hurt people I cared about and get away with it, then I'd show her exactly what happened when you came after a Vance. An eye for an eye. That's how this worked.
I scrolled through my contacts and found Julian's number. My finger hovered over it for a moment before I pressed call. He answered on the third ring.
"Briar?"
I made my voice soft, almost pleading, in a way I'd never spoken to him before. "Julian, can you do something for me? Can you bring Willow to meet me at a restaurant? I want to talk to both of you. Please?"
There was a long silence on the other end. I could hear him breathing, could almost picture the way his throat would move as he swallowed.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice low and careful. "I'll bring her."