Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Sable

I arrived back at the mansion, finally managing to stop the tears streaking down my cheeks. Brant was bad news. I knew that. I came here to get revenge for Jessica. But I’d been stupid. My foolish heart had gone and fallen in love with him.

Why Brant? Why him? Why not Joss?

“Sable!” Marirose’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She walked toward me, her face drawn with worry. “Are you… crying?”

I shook my head quickly. “No. Why would I be crying? I’m fine… I just need to go to my bedroom.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press. She let me go, and for that I was grateful. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. Not now.

In my room, I went straight to the closet, slid open a hidden drawer, and pulled out a small box. Sitting down on the floor with my back against the bed, I opened it carefully. Inside was a photograph of me and Jessica.

We looked so young, happy, so full of life in our school uniforms with our backpacks slung over our shoulders. It was right after Mum married Mr. Paxton and transferred us to his sons’ school. Lucas hadn’t lied about the bag—Jessica’s was pink and black, mine a softer pink and white.

I traced Jessica’s smiling face with my fingertips. “I love you so much,” I whispered. “I’m weak, sister. I’m not you. But somehow—I’ll get you your revenge. Brant is going to suffer. He’ll suffer for breaking your heart, for throwing us out of the mansion, for your death… and for your child.”

And then, uninvited, Brant’s words echoed through me: 'But no matter how much I tried, somehow you carved yourself into me. You’re here, inside this dark, black, rotten heart of mine.'

My chest tightened, my already bruised heart splintering even more. A part of me wanted—desperately—to believe him. To cling to the hope that behind his cruelty, there was something real, something human, something that loved me.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

That “dark, black, rotten heart” he spoke of had shattered Jessica’s life. It had cast us out, destroyed everything, left my sister to die with her child. No amount of love, no matter how tender his words sounded, could erase that.

Tears burst free, hot and unstoppable, not because I believed him, but because some traitorous part of me wanted to. That was the cruelest part of all.

I broke down, sobbing into the photo despite trying to hold it all in. I wouldn’t believe any of his lies. Not one. He was nothing but a liar. A monster.

I curled onto the floor, clutching the picture tight to my chest as if I could hold Jessica in my arms again. My eyes closed, and my mind drifted back to happier days—my dad, mum, and Jessica. Family fun. Laughter. The little things that felt like everything. Happy moments I would never get back.

At some point, my sobs bled into silence until, slowly, sleep pulled me under, dragging me into a dream of the life I wished I still had. Until I felt a hand on my arm, tugging me back, and my body stiffened. I clutched the photograph tighter, panic cutting through the haze of sleep.

My eyes shot open in fear. What if it was Joss—or anyone from the Paxton family? What if they saw it? What if they discovered the truth?

Relief flooded me when I saw it was only Marirose.

I quickly sat up, slipping the photo back into the box and snapping the little pin lock shut. Mr. Paxton had given it to me, half-joking, saying I should hide all my secrets inside. If only he knew.

“I guess you were thinking about your sister,” Marirose said gently. “I was worried you were having one of your panic attacks.”

“No, I wasn’t,” I said quickly, forcing a weak smile. “I just… wanted to ground myself again. To get back to reality. What’s up?”

“Dinner’s waiting downstairs,” she replied. “Rhett asked me to call you.”

I nodded, clutching the box tight, and got to my feet. I put the box back in its place before following Marirose downstairs. When we reached the dining room, everyone was already there—even Brant.

I pulled out my own chair this time. Lately, Joss had stopped bothering to do it for me.

I swirled my fork through the pasta, forcing a few bites into my mouth without tasting a thing.

Rhett coughed, drawing my attention. He cleared his throat, his fist pressed lightly against his lips. His deep voice cut through the silence. “Brother…”

Brant lifted his gaze, distracted, almost absent. He too had only been stirring his food around his plate, not eating.

“I know you don’t want to talk about the fight, or why you weren’t there, but I need to tell you this,” Rhett continued.

All eyes shifted to him, as though his words were meant for each of us.

“Leslie badly needed you to win that fight,” Rhett said steadily. “She needed the prize money to save the club. She’s drowning in debt. I owe her, too. And now, with Lucas gone, she’ll lose everything just trying to pay it off.” Rhett paused before adding, “That’s why… I’m going to buy the club.”

Brant’s jaw tightened. “What will happen to the rogues?”

“They’ll have a choice,” Rhett replied. “They can join my pack, or be thrown out.”

Brant gave a small, grim nod.

Rhett’s eyes swept across the table, landing on each of us. “There’s something else. Another announcement.”

He already had our full attention.

“This weekend, we’re going to the cabin. We’ll spend a week there. We all need to clear our heads.” He stood, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. “Every one of us—for different reasons.”

With that, he left the table. Brant stood soon after and followed, leaving only Kit, Joss, and me staring across the table at one another.

Rhett was right. We all needed a getaway. And the cabin… the cabin was the perfect place for it.