Chapter 42: THE FIRST HIT IN BATTLE

ANNABELLE POV

Fear doesn’t arrive loudly.

It doesn’t kick down the door or scream warnings in your ear.

It settles.

Quiet. Persistent. Crawling into the cracks of your mind until even silence feels dangerous.

By morning, I haven’t slept.

Every sound during the night, the hum of the refrigerator, the distant siren, the elevator whirring in the building all made my heart stutter. I lay awake with my eyes fixed on the ceiling, replaying the knock at the door over and over again.

Wellness check.

Such an innocent phrase for something so violating.

Ronan hasn’t left my side. Not once. He’s sitting across the room now, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and controlled as he talks to someone a security, I think. Or lawyers. Or both. At this point, everything blurs together into one long thread of tension.

Sofia sleeps lightly in the armchair, shoes still on, arms folded like a shield even in rest.

I feel guilty.

For dragging them into this.

For existing loudly enough to be noticed.

For being the thing Victoria Blackthorne wants erased.

I pull the blanket tighter around myself, trying to ground my thoughts, when my phone buzzes on the coffee table.

My stomach drops.

Ronan notices instantly. His gaze snaps to me.

“Don’t,” he says gently. “Let me.”

“I need to,” I whisper.

I reach for the phone with trembling fingers.

A notification.

Not a message.

An email.

From my workplace. The new job I just got. God please don’t take this away from me I say silently.

SUBJECT: Administrative Leave with Immediate Effect

My breath catches.

I open it.

Dear Annabelle,

Due to concerns raised regarding your emotional well-being and its potential impact on your performance, the board has made the decision to place you on a temporary administrative leave, effective immediately.

This decision is pending further review.

Human Resources would be in touch.

My vision blurs.

Ronan is beside me in seconds, reading over my shoulder. I feel his body go rigid.

“They can’t do that,” he says sharply. “Not without cause.”

“They have cause now,” I whisper hollowly. “Someone told them I’m unstable.”

Sofia stirs, instantly awake. “What happened?”

I hand her the phone.

She reads it once, then again, her jaw tightening. “Oh, that bitch.”

Ronan paces, fury rolling off him in waves. “This is retaliation. Clear as day.”

“But it’s legal,” Sofia says. “Temporary leave. ‘Concerns.’ It’s vague enough to stick.”

I stare at the screen, numb spreading through my chest.

This is what Victoria meant.

Not blood.

Not bruises.

Just… erasure.

“You okay?” Ronan asks quietly.

I nod automatically, even though it’s a lie.

“I can handle this,” I say. “It’s just a job.”

But it isn’t just a job. It’s the second time she’s taking my life from me.

It’s my independence. My routine. My proof to myself more than anyone that I’m more than Harrison Blackthorne’s secret mistake.

My phone buzzes again.

Another notification.

This time, social media.

My name is trending.

I open it before anyone can stop me.

A blog post. Anonymous.

BLACKTHORNE HEIRESS OR CONVENIENT LIAR?

My heart pounds as I scroll.

Photos of me. Screenshots pulled from my private accounts. Speculation disguised as concern. This is happening all over again.

Sources close to the situation suggest the young woman at the center of the Blackthorne inheritance battle may be emotionally unstable, raising questions about the validity of her claims.

Several anonymous reports have allegedly been filed expressing concern for her mental health.

Mental health.

They’re poisoning the well.

“She’s building a narrative,” Ronan says darkly. “Unstable. Unreliable. Unfit.”

“So no one believes me,” I whisper.

Sofia grabs my hand. “Hey. Look at me.”

I do.

“This is exactly what she wants,” she says firmly. “To make you shrink. To make you doubt yourself.”

My throat tightens. “It’s working.”

Ronan drops to his knees in front of me, taking my face in his hands.

“Listen to me,” he says, eyes burning with intensity. “You are not crazy. You are not weak. And you are not alone.”

I swallow hard.

“She’s attacking everything that makes you visible,” he continues. “Your work. Your voice. Your credibility.”

I nod slowly.

“And if she’s doing that,” Sofia adds, “it means she’s scared.”

The word settles in my chest.

Scared.

I hadn’t considered that.

My phone buzzes again.

This time, a text.

Unknown Number

If you leave quietly, this can stop.

I stare at it, my fingers numb.

Ronan reads it over my shoulder and lets out a sharp laugh. “She’s negotiating now.”

“She wants me gone,” I say.

“Yes,” he replies. “Because you’re winning.”

Am I?

It doesn’t feel like winning.

It feels like being slowly pushed off a cliff while everyone debates whether I ever belonged on the ground in the first place.

There’s a knock at the door.

All three of us freeze.

Ronan is on his feet instantly, positioning himself between me and the door. He checks the peephole, then stiffens.

“It’s him,” he says.

“Who?” Sofia asks.

“Alec.”

The name sends a strange ripple through me.

Ronan opens the door cautiously.

Alec Blackthorne stands in the hallway, hands in his coat pockets, expression unreadable. He looks different from the last time I saw him in passing—sharper. More alert. Like someone who expected trouble and found confirmation.

“I heard,” he says without preamble, stepping inside.

“Heard what?” Ronan asks coolly.

Alec’s eyes flick to me. “That the first hit landed.”

I flinch.

Sofia crosses her arms. “You’re awfully calm about this.”

He shrugs. “This is how she starts. Soft pressure. Plausible concern. She wants to see if you’ll fold.”

“I won’t,” I say before I can stop myself.

Alec’s gaze sharpens, studying me more closely now.

“Good,” he says. “Because if you had, this would already be over.”

Ronan turns to him. “You said you had evidence.”

“I do,” Alec replies. “And more importantly, I know her patterns.”

He pulls out his phone and taps a few times before handing it to Ronan.

“What am I looking at?” Ronan asks.

“A timeline,” Alec says. “Every time Victoria destroyed someone quietly. Careers ruined. Custody battles lost. Reputations dismantled.”

Ronan scrolls, his expression darkening.

“She always starts by questioning sanity,” Alec continues. “Once that seed is planted, everything else is easy.”

I feel exposed. Studied. But also… understood.

“She did this to my mother,” Alec adds, his voice colder now. “By the time anyone realized what was happening, Casey had nothing left.”

Silence fills the room.

“What do we do?” I ask quietly.

Alec looks at me then, really looks at me.

“You stop running,” he says. “And you go public on your terms.”

Ronan stiffens. “No. That puts her directly in the line of fire.”

“She’s already in it,” Alec counters. “Hiding won’t protect her. Visibility will.”

My heart races.

Public means scrutiny. Judgment. Being torn apart piece by piece.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I admit.

Ronan kneels in front of me again. “You don’t have to decide now.”

But I already feel the shift inside me.

Victoria wants me small.

Quiet.

Ashamed.

I think of the courtroom. Of my voice shaking but not breaking. Of the crack in her mask.

If she wants the spotlight to destroy me,

Then maybe it’s time I stepped fully into it.

I lift my head.

“What would going public look like?” I ask.

Alec smiles. Not kindly. But approvingly.

“It looks like taking control of the narrative before she finishes writing it for you.”

Ronan exhales slowly, torn.

I take his hand.

“I’m tired of being scared,” I say softly. “And I’m tired of being erased.”

His grip tightens.

“Okay,” he says. “Then we do this carefully. Together.”

Outside, the city hums on, unaware of the war being waged in quiet rooms and whispered threats.

But inside me, something has shifted.

Victoria Blackthorne wanted to break me with silence.

She forgot one thing.

I’ve already lived my whole life unseen.

And I survived it.