The door clicked shut, sealing us in the library's silence.
Our agreement hung in the air between us, a specter made of blackmail and desperation.
I turned to leave, my body moving on autopilot, the flash drive a cold brand against my skin.
"A moment."
Falon's voice wasn't loud, but it was a command that froze me in my tracks.
He didn't approach. He simply held out a single, stark white business card. No title. No ornate designs. Just ten embossed digits.
"My private line," he said, his storm-gray eyes boring into me. "The only one who has it."
I took it. The card felt heavy, like a key to a prison I was volunteering to enter.
"You aren't ready for this," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of malice, as if he were stating a simple, irrefutable fact.
"The world you are so desperate to enter… it doesn't break people like you. It dissolves them. It will demand pieces of you that the Onyx Club never even knew existed."
"I just want my son back," I whispered, the words a fragile shield. "I'll find a way to carry the weight."
"Will you?" A humorless, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
"You see this as a path to your son. I see it as a strategic necessity. You are not my choice, Riley. You are my only viable option. You already hold my ruin in your hand. That, in a perverse way, makes you the only person I can trust."
He took a single step closer, and the air grew colder.
"My offer is not freedom. It is a transfer of ownership. From the club to me. The only difference is the quality of the chains. Think about that. Truly think about it, before you decide to sign your life away."
He turned his back to me, a dismissal as absolute as any command.
I was nothing but a variable in his equation. I took the card and fled.
The grand hall was a blur of retreating color and sound.
I found Darel by the entrance, his face etched with a worry so genuine it felt like an accusation.
"Riley? What happened? How did it go?"
"I need to go," I managed, my voice thin and reedy. "Please, Darel. Just take me away from here."
He didn't ask again.
He simply nodded, his kind eyes shadowed, and led me to his car.
The ride was swallowed by a thick, suffocating silence.
I stared out the window, watching the glittering city lights smear into meaningless streaks.
Each light was a life, a home, a child tucked safely into bed. A life I was systematically destroying with my own two hands.
He pulled up to the curb a block from the motel I'd named. A place called The Starlight, its sign flickering, promising a false heaven.
"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" he asked, his hand pausing on the gear shift.
I forced my lips into a shape that felt like a smile. It was a grotesque stretch of skin. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Darel. For everything."
The grin vanished the second I turned away, my face collapsing into the numb mask it was meant to be. I didn't look back.
The motel room was a perfect square of despair. The wallpaper, a carpet that smelled of stale cigarettes and defeat, the low hum of a faulty air conditioner.
I locked the door, slid the chain across, and stood there, back pressed against the wood, as if I could physically hold the world at bay.
It was no use. The world was already inside me, tearing me apart.
My legs gave way.
I crumpled to the floor, the cheap, rough fibers of the carpet scraping against my skin.
I pulled out the burner phone, my fingers clumsy and shaking as I dialed.
Danny answered on the first ring. "Riley? Talk to me."
And I did.
The words poured out of me in a torrent of broken glass and shame.
I told him about Falon's cold analysis, his offer of a different kind of cage, his warning that I would dissolve.
"He agreed, Danny," I finished, my voice a raw whisper. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to marry him."
The line was silent for a beat too long. "It's the only way, Ri."
A sob ripped from my throat, harsh and ugly in the empty room.
"It's the Gray family, Danny! I'm marrying into the family that sold me. I'm going to wear the name of the man who raped me. I'm going to let his brother put a ring on my finger and call me his wife. For what? For a chance? What kind of mother does that make me? What kind of person am I becoming?"
"A survivor!" His voice was fierce, an anchor in my storm.
"You are a mother who is using every weapon she has! You think this is a betrayal of Billy? This is the ultimate sacrifice for him! You are walking into the belly of the beast for him."
He let that hang for a moment, letting the truth of it sink past the hysteria.
"You have two paths, Riley. Look at them clearly. The long way: you go it alone. You're a fugitive. The police, the Volkans, they're all hunting you. You'll be looking over your shoulder every second. The odds of you finding him? They're almost zero. It's a path of pride, and it leads to a grave. Your grave."
I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my temples and into my hair.
"The short way," he continued, his voice softening, "is through Falon. It's aligning with the power that created this hell. You use their resources. You use their influence. You hold your nose, you swallow your pride, and you walk through the fire. The outcome is sure. You will win. And it promises more than just getting him back. It promises a future where he is untouchable. A prince. This is your way out of the Onyx Club. Not just for you, but for him. Forever."
I dragged a sleeve across my face, smearing the tears.
His logic was a cold, hard pill, but it was medicine. Poisonous, necessary medicine.
"I'm back in the club, Finn just called," Danny said, his voice fading slightly. "I have to go. We'll talk later. Stay strong, Riley. For Billy."
The line went dead.
The silence that rushed in was louder than any sound. I was utterly, completely alone.
I fumbled with my personal phone, my thumb smearing the screen as I found it—the secret screenshot from a video call.
Billy's face filled the dim room. His round, boyish face, the small gap from a lost tooth, his warm brown eyes sparkling with a light that felt a million miles away.
His birthday is tomorrow.
The thought was a physical blow to the chest, stealing my air.
He would be twelve. Was he thinking of me? Was he hoping for a cake, for a present, for his mom to walk through the door and make everything okay?
A tear escaped, then another, falling onto the screen, distorting his beautiful, trusting smile.
As if on cue, the burner phone buzzed on the carpet beside me. A single, stark line of text from the number on the card.
The deal expires at dawn. Are you in?
I stared at the two screens.
On one, the blurred, tear-streaked face of my reason for living.
On the other, the words that could save him, delivered by the man who represented everything I hated.
I held my salvation and my damnation in each hand, in the crushing silence of a Starlight motel room.
The longest night of my life had only just begun.
I didn't sleep. I sat on the floor, my back against the motel room door, and watched the digital clock on the burner phone tick from 3:17 AM to 5:42 AM.
Falon's text was a ghost in the room, its silence louder than any sound. The deal expires at dawn.
As the first weak rays of sun pierced the cheap blinds, my personal phone, not the burner, chimed with a sound I'd almost forgotten—a message notification.
It was an unknown number. No text. Just a video file.
My heart stopped. I fumbled, my numb fingers almost dropping the phone, and tapped the screen.
The video was shaky, dimly lit. And then he was there.
Billy.