Chapter 151 The Broken Throne

Chapter 151 The Broken Throne
Willow's POV

"Drink the medicine," I said, my voice flat as I grabbed Briar's chin and tipped the water to her lips. "This is medicine that pregnant women can take for fever. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Her gaze drifted past me to the corner of the room where I'd stored the remnants of my childhood.

Everything was clean, dust-free. I came here sometimes when the pressure got too heavy, when being Raymond Davenport's perfect daughter felt like drowning.

---

An hour later, she was struggling to eat the bread I'd left on the floor beside her. Her bound hands made it impossible to bring the food to her mouth.

"Auntie," she said suddenly, her voice hoarse. "Please help me eat."

I froze. "What did you just call me?"

"Auntie." She looked up at me with those fever-bright eyes. "I think it's the baby in my belly. It's calling out to you."

I wanted to walk away, to leave her there to starve. But my hands moved of their own accord, tearing off a piece of bread and holding it to her mouth. She ate slowly, carefully, never breaking eye contact.

"Say it again," I warned, "and you won't get anything else."

My phone rang just as I was about to leave the room. Father's name flashed across the screen, and my stomach dropped.

"Why haven't you handled Julian's mess?" Father's voice cracked through the speaker like a whip. "Liam Miller's people found surveillance footage. Do you have any idea what this means for us?"

I gripped the phone tighter, my jaw clenched. "I'm working on it."

"Working on it?" His laugh was harsh, cutting. "We've invested everything in you since you were born. Resources, connections, opportunities. How many times do I have to teach you the same lesson? Your methods need to be ruthless, Willow. Decisive. You can't afford to be soft."

"I understand."

"Do you? Because right now, you're making us look weak. Handle this, or I'll have to issue a public apology to minimize the damage to Silverwind Pack's reputation." He paused, and I heard muffled voices in the background. "Your sister's awake. I have to go."

The line went dead.

I stood there holding the phone to my ear for several more seconds, my hand trembling. Handle this. Be ruthless. Don't be soft. The same instructions he'd been drilling into me for twenty-six years, as if I were a weapon he was forging rather than a daughter he was raising.

---

At one in the morning, I pulled up the trending topics on my phone and felt my blood turn to ice.

#Silverwind Pack Alpha's Daughter Fights For Love: Love Triangle Exposed! She Ran, He Chased, She Made Him Crazy Jealous!

The full surveillance footage had been released. Every second of it, from Julian dragging Briar out of that building to me intercepting his car. Only Julian's face and mine were visible. Briar's was conveniently obscured.

Liam Miller. He'd taken the narrative Briar had started building and weaponized it, turning the spotlight directly on me and Julian while keeping her safely in the shadows. Clever. Ruthless.

Exactly the kind of move Father would approve of, if it weren't being used against us.

I grabbed Briar by the arm and hauled her toward the elevator, ignoring her weak protests. The factory had five floors, most of them empty and crumbling. The top floor had a rooftop access that no one used anymore.

Father's words echoed in my head. Be ruthless. Handle this.

The easiest solution was right in front of me. Push her off the roof. Claim she jumped. The fever, the stress, the pregnancy hormones. It would be believable.

I shoved open the rooftop door and pulled Briar out into the cold night air. She stumbled, nearly falling, and I caught her roughly by the shoulder.

"Where are the rest of the pages?" she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. "From the Moonlit Secrets comic."

My hand tightened on her shoulder. "What?"

"The comic in your storage room. You only kept the first half." She looked up at me, her eyes clearer now despite the fever. "Do you even know how it ends?"

"Shut up."

"Peach died," Briar continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "Her drunk father hit her too hard one night. Killed her by accident. And her cowardly mother was too afraid to report it, so she wrapped Peach's body in a blanket and dumped it in the forest where no one would find her."

I grabbed her throat, slamming her against the rooftop railing. "I said shut up."

But she didn't stop. She just kept looking at me with those knowing eyes, seeing straight through every wall I'd built.

"All those broken things in your storage room," she whispered. "They destroyed them, didn't they? Your parents. And you kept the pieces because you couldn't let go." Her voice dropped even lower. "Which winter are you trying to kill your soul in, Willow?"

My grip tightened. It would be so easy. One push, and she'd be gone.

"You think you had it so much worse than me?" I hissed. "Marcus sold you to Julian like a piece of property. At least my parents wanted me to succeed."

"Marcus is exactly like them." Briar's laugh was bitter, broken. "But I'm not afraid of losing something that's already rotten. That kind of love is like maggots in a wound. It festers and spreads and destroys everything it touches." She met my eyes. "If you can't heal it, you cut it out and throw it away."

Something hot and sharp lodged in my throat. My vision blurred, and I realized with horror that I was crying.

I let her go and stepped back, my hands shaking.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Lucian's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Put Liam Miller's people on a leash," I said without preamble. "And put whatever evidence you have on Daniel Cross in a black trash bag. Leave it in the garbage bin on Pinecrest Avenue." I paused. "If you don't, you'll be collecting Briar's body instead."

"Has Julian called you?" Lucian's voice was calm, controlled.

"No."

"Then he doesn't know where you are." A statement, not a question. "I want to talk to Briar. Confirm she's alive."

I walked over to where Briar was slumped against the railing and held the phone to her ear.

"The moonlight tonight," Briar said slowly, her words slurring slightly from the fever, "looks just like it did the first time we went to Reginald's estate together."

Lucian's response was immediate. "Don't forget, you still owe me that face-cupping kiss."

I yanked the phone back. "Satisfied?"

"Your target is wrong, Willow." Lucian's tone shifted, becoming almost sympathetic. "The person you should be fighting isn't me. It's Julian Sterling."

I hung up and turned to find Briar watching me.

"Daniel brought me here to use as bait," she said quietly. "To force Lucian to make a move. But Julian brought me here to manipulate you. He wanted you to take me away, to start a war between Lucian and Silverwind Pack while he sits back and watches."

My blood went cold as the pieces clicked into place.

"Julian's been transferring his conflict with Dominic onto you," Briar continued. "He wants Lucian to be the one who destroys Shadowmoor Pack and Silverwind Pack. That way his hands stay clean, and he gets everything he wants without the consequences."

"You're saying Julian used me." The words tasted like ash.

"He's been using everyone." Briar's smile was sad. "Sounds like your baby daddy is the real sucker in all of this."

I almost laughed. Almost.

My phone lit up with new notifications. The trending topics had shifted again.

#Exposing Shadowmoor Pack: Smuggling Empire Hidden Behind Political Marriage!

#When Power Goes Unchecked: Why We Need Stronger Oversight of Influential Families

#Raymond Davenport Corruption
#Is Shadowmoor Pack Finished
#Sterling Pharmaceuticals Money Laundering
Two forces were battling for control of the narrative online, neither willing to back down. The comment sections were war zones.

Father's number flashed across my screen again. And again. And again.

I turned off my phone.

"I did everything for him," I said quietly, more to myself than to Briar. "Everything Father asked. Everything Julian needed. And what did it get me?"

Silence. Just the wind and the distant sound of traffic.

I pulled out the small knife I kept in my boot and walked over to Briar. She didn't flinch when I knelt beside her, didn't try to pull away when I grabbed her bound wrists.

The rope fell away in pieces. Then the bindings around her ankles.

"Go," I said, standing up and stepping back. "Just go."