Chapter 96 The Price of the Map
The screens in the corner of my bedroom were still bleeding data, the blue light reflecting off the shattered remains of the door.
But as the adrenaline began to ebb, the silence of the empty house grew heavy. Rhys didn’t let go of me. His hand remained anchored on my waist, his heat the only thing keeping the bone-deep chill from reclaiming me. The heavy oak door he’d pulverized lay in splinters across the rug, a violent testament to the last few minutes. Without any staff or security to come running, the sound of the destruction had simply echoed into the hollow hallways, unanswered. The sprawling estate felt less like a palace and more like a tomb—a vast, hollow space where we were finally, terrifyingly, alone.
"Ellie."
It was Owen. He was standing in the doorway, framed by the jagged wood Rhys had punched through. Grant was right behind him, his chest heaving as if he’d been the one swinging the sledge. They didn't look like protectors; they looked like brothers who had just realized the walls of their own home had become a trap for their sister. Owen looked around the quiet room, his eyes darting toward the darkened hallway. The lack of movement in the house seemed to unnerve him more than the wreckage. "Where are they?" he asked, his voice tight. "Where’s Mom and Arthur? Why is it so quiet in here?"
I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "They... they went out to eat," I managed to say. "They won't be back for hours."
The realization that we were completely alone—no parents, no help—seemed to hit Owen like a physical blow. His eyes moved from the data to the way Rhys was holding me. His expression didn't harden; it fractured with a sense of personal betrayal that went far deeper than the broken door.
"Rhys," Owen said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low-frequency hum. "Step back from her."
Rhys didn’t move. If anything, he drew me flush against his side. "She’s in shock, Owen. She needs to feel safe."
"Safe with you?" Grant stepped forward, his eyes narrowed as he took in the proprietary way Rhys’s arm was draped around me. Grant and Jace hadn't been silent about their reservations since the "engagement" was announced. To them, Rhys was still the man they’d seen in the tabloids for years—the reckless womanizer who treated hearts like disposable engine parts. "We know your track record, Rhys. We’ve watched you burn through half the women in the city. You don't get to play the knight in shining armor with our baby sister."
"This isn't a headline, Grant," Rhys snapped, his voice raw. "I’ve known her as long as you have."
"That’s exactly the problem!" Owen’s voice finally cracked, the weight of their lifelong friendship crashing into the room. He stepped over the debris, pointing a finger directly at Rhys’s chest. "You were my best friend. We had an understanding, Rhys. Since we were kids. Everyone else was fair game, but Ellie? She was the one line you didn't cross. She was supposed to be off-limits to people like us."
The room felt suffocatingly small. Only Rhys and I knew the truth—that the diamond on my finger was a tactical shield, a fake arrangement to protect me from our father. To Owen, this wasn't just a protective brotherly instinct; it was the ultimate violation of the bro-code. He was looking at his best friend and seeing a predator who had waited until his back was turned to claim the one thing that was sacred.
"I didn't 'claim' her, Owen," Rhys said, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried the weight of twenty years of unsaid feelings. "I’m protecting her. Which is more than I can say for the rest of you tonight."
"Protecting her?" Owen laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "By putting a ring on her finger and tying her to your reputation? You’re a playboy, Rhys. You always have been. You think I’m going to let my sister be the next girl you get bored of? This engagement is a joke, and we all know it."
I felt the muscle in Rhys’s jaw tick. The irony was almost physical; Rhys had loved me in secret since we were children, and now he was being crucified by his best friend for the very persona he’d used to hide those feelings.
"Stop it!" I yelled, stepping between them. The movement forced Rhys to let go, and I felt the sudden loss of his heat like a physical bruise. "Owen, look at the screens! Look at what’s happening."
I pointed to the monitors where the data was reaching its final stages. "We just won the first round. We have the map. If you two spend the next ten minutes fighting over 'off-limits' rules and reputations, my father will walk through those doors and we’ll lose everything."
Jace, who had been uncharacteristically quiet while monitoring the upload, finally looked up. "She’s right. The download is at ninety percent. If we don't clear the cache and get out of this wing now, the internal security logs will trigger a hard-reset. We have to go."
Owen glared at Rhys, the hurt in his eyes still shimmering. This wasn't just about my safety anymore; it was about the death of a friendship. "Grant, get the backup drive. Jace, wipe the local history." He turned back to me, his gaze softening, though his voice remained stiff. "Ellie, move. Now. We’re going to the library."
As we filtered out of the room, Owen intentionally shouldered past Rhys, a silent declaration that the bridge between them was currently a pile of ash. Rhys stayed behind for a second, his hand resting on the frame of the broken door he’d smashed to save me. I looked back and saw him staring at Owen’s retreating back—the look of a man who had finally gained the woman of his dreams, but at the cost of the brother he’d always had.
The empty hallways felt cavernous as we navigated the shadows. The war with my father was reaching its end, but the fallout between the two men I trusted most was just beginning. As Rhys caught up to me and took my hand, his grip was desperate, as if he were afraid that Owen’s words might finally make me see him the way the rest of the world did.