Dead Man's Lie
Soren – POV
I sat in the car, my mind still reeling from the intense conversation we just had—planning out my staged accident, down to the finest detail. Jace would handle the video footage, making sure it all looked like damning evidence of my supposed death.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. This was it.
The road was quiet, deserted. Perfect.
I floored the gas, the engine roaring beneath me, my pulse racing to match. Trees blurred past. I jerked the wheel, losing control just enough to make it look real. The car slammed into a tree with a violent crunch. My head cracked against the steering wheel, and for a second, everything blurred. A sharp pain shot through my skull. I couldn’t afford to black out now.
I had to move. Now.
Staggering out of the wreckage, I barely made it out before the flames erupted behind me. Heat kissed my back as I collapsed onto
the grass, lungs heaving. Killian’s men were already there, emerging from the shadows, pulling me away from the wreck. They’d handle the next part—swapping in a charred corpse, something convincing enough to fool even the sharpest U.K. investigators.
By the time we reached the safehouse, I was already fading. A doctor hovered over me, muttering something about anesthesia. The sting of an injection hit my arm.
“Jace…” I mumbled, blinking up at him. “Make sure… everything falls into place.”
“I will,” he said, grim. “But you need to let them treat you first. Looks like you broke your arm, too.”
“Tell Raisel... about the plan,” I whispered. “She’ll worry…”
Jace opened his mouth to respond, but the drug was pulling me under fast.
“Just so you know—” he began, but the words were muffled, distant. I tried to speak again, but my lips wouldn't move. Jace gave a soft chuckle, and I felt my body give way to sleep. My heart thudded with a single, desperate thought—
I need to see Raisel. I need her with me.
***
Raisel – POV
This black dress... this sinking feeling... none of it was new. Funerals had become a cruel routine these past few months.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, tears sliding silently down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I whispered. “For not being able to spend more time with you. I promise I’ll be strong... and I’ll protect your grandchild. Thank you... for everything.”
I wiped my face with shaking hands as Hazel’s arms wrapped around me. The sound of earth hitting the coffin made my knees weak.
Everything around me felt dark. Numb.
After the service, I returned home, trying to hold myself together. I needed to call Killian—to ask about Soren, to know if he was okay. But I wasn’t allowed to travel, not yet. The situation was too unstable.
The doorbell rang. Fiora opened it.
A man stepped in.
“Miss Smith?” he asked. It was the same lawyer who’d helped bail me out.
“Yes?” I managed.
“You’re free of all charges,” he said. “You’re allowed to travel now.”
“What? How is everything happening so fast?” I asked, stunned.
“Are you... upset about it?” Fiora asked, confused.
“Money talks. Maybe the lawyer bribed someone,” Hazel muttered.
The man raised a hand calmly. “Miss Smith never killed anyone. They had no evidence against her. And given her emotional state, I appealed to the court. They agreed to drop the charges.”
I opened my mouth to ask about Soren—but before I could speak, my phone buzzed.
Social media notifications. A tagged video.
I clicked it.
The screen showed Soren—my Soren—behind the wheel. A fiery crash. News outlets were reporting he’d died while trying to escape arrest.
No. No, this couldn’t be.
My hands started shaking.
“Raisel!” someone shouted.
The phone vibrated in my palm. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The room spun violently.
“Call a doctor!” Hazel screamed.
And then—darkness.