The crunch of twisting metal echoed in my skull. Glass shattered, burying into my skin.

I jolted upward, tearing the silk sheets off my body. My hands flew to my stomach.

Flat. Unbroken. Empty.

I wasn't bleeding out on the asphalt. I was sitting in my own bedroom, drenched in cold sweat.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen illuminated the dark room.

*Kael.*

My fiancé. The man who stood over my mangled body and watched the life drain from my eyes.

I swiped the screen to answer.

"Are you awake?" Kael asked. His tone carried that familiar, impatient edge.

"I am now." My voice cracked.

"Did you pack for the coastal trip tomorrow?"

My gaze shifted to the wall. The printed itinerary hung right where I left it. Tomorrow. The coastal drive. The hairpin turn where my brakes would magically fail.

"I packed," I replied, forcing the words through a tight throat.

"Good. I'm taking the SUV with Seraphina. She gets motion sickness easily, so she needs the extra room."

A phantom ache ripped through my abdomen. In my past life, I begged him to stay with me. I told him I felt sick, that the baby was sitting heavy. He told me I was being dramatic.

He left me to drive the sports car alone. He left me to die.

"You're taking Seraphina," I repeated.

"Don't start acting jealous, Elara. She’s sensitive right now. You know she needs me."

A laugh bubbled up from my chest. It sounded sharp, almost manic.

Dead silence stretched across the line.

"Is something funny?" Kael snapped.

"No. Not at all." I smiled, though my face felt like cracking ice. "Take her. Give her all the room she needs."

"I don't have time for your games. Just be ready by eight."

The line went dead.

I tossed the phone onto the mattress. He had already orchestrated it. He and Seraphina wanted my family's shares, but they did not want me. Or the child I carried.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare feet hit the hardwood floor.

If tomorrow was the trip, the car was already rigged.

I pulled a heavy trench coat over my nightgown and slipped out of my room. The mansion was dead quiet. I navigated the back staircase, heading straight for the underground garage.

The damp air hit my face as I pushed the heavy metal door open. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete.

My silver coupe sat in the corner.

And someone was leaning against the driver's side door.

I froze.

A tall figure pushed off the car. The glow of a cigarette illuminated his sharp jawline and the dark, messy hair falling over his forehead.

Caspian.

Kael’s younger brother. The illegitimate son the family kept tucked away in the shadows. The outcast.

"A bit late for a stroll, Elara," Caspian said. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot.

"What are you doing near my car, Caspian?"

"Just admiring the machinery." He shoved his hands into his leather jacket pockets. "Though I wouldn't take it out for a spin tonight."

My stomach dropped. "Why not?"

"Saw Kael's personal mechanic down here about two hours ago. Poking around your front tires." Caspian tilted his head. "Didn't know you needed maintenance."

They had already cut the brake lines.

I closed the distance between us. Caspian didn't move away. He just watched me with those cold, calculating eyes.

"Did he see you?" I asked.

"No. I prefer to stay out of sight."

"Good." I stopped inches from him. "Keep it that way."

Caspian let out a low whistle. "You look awful, by the way. Pale. Shaking. Did my brother finally push you over the edge?"

"He did more than that."

"Are you going to cry about it?" He mocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm going to kill him."

The smirk vanished. Caspian stared at me, his gaze dropping to my clenched fists and back up to my eyes.

"Excuse me?" he muttered.

"You heard me." I leaned closer. "You hate him, Caspian. I know you do. He treats you like dirt, and your father pretends you don't exist."

Caspian's jaw tightened. The muscle ticked under his skin. "Careful, Elara. You're talking about your precious fiancé."

"I'm talking about a dead man walking."

He let out a harsh exhale. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I want a partner." I reached out and tapped the hood of my rigged car. "Tomorrow, this car goes off a cliff. Kael expects me to be in it."

"And you want me to stop him?"

"No. I want you to help me put Seraphina in the driver's seat."

Caspian went entirely still. The ambient hum of the garage felt deafening.

"You're out of your mind," he whispered.

"I'm perfectly sane." I held his gaze. "If you help me, I'll make sure Kael loses everything. His inheritance, his status, his freedom. And I'll hand his empire directly to you."

"Why should I trust you?" Caspian asked. "Yesterday you were picking out floral arrangements for the wedding."

"Yesterday I was a fool." I grabbed his wrist. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to my freezing fingers. "Kael took something from me. Something I will never get back. I will tear his life apart piece by piece."

Caspian looked down at my hand gripping his wrist. He didn't pull away.

"He's still my brother," Caspian said, his voice dropping an octave.

"He plans to kill his own unborn child tomorrow, Caspian. Just to keep Seraphina comfortable."

Caspian's eyes widened. He stared at my stomach, then back up to my face. The realization hit him like a physical blow.

"You're pregnant," he stated.

"Yes." I released his wrist and stepped back. "And he knows. He just doesn't care. Are you in, or do I find someone else to take Kael's crown?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. The metal snapped open, the flame casting a warm glow over his face.

"I've always hated that coupe," Caspian said, snapping the lighter shut.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a start." He stepped around the car and opened the passenger door. "Get in."

"Where are we going?"

"To fix your little brake problem." He shot me a sideways glance. "Unless you actually want to die tomorrow?"

I slid into the passenger seat. Caspian got behind the wheel.

He turned the key. The engine roared to life, echoing off the concrete walls.

"So," Caspian said, shifting into gear. "How much blood are we willing to spill?"

"As much as it takes."

The tires squealed as we sped out of the garage and into the pitch-black night.

But as I watched the estate shrink in the rearview mirror, my phone vibrated in my pocket again.

A text message from an unknown number.

*I know you remember.*

*I know you remember.*

I stared at the glowing screen. My pulse hammered against my ribs. I shoved the phone deep into my trench coat pocket. I couldn't deal with ghosts right now. I had a monster to kill first.

"Take the next left," Caspian instructed from the passenger seat.

I gripped the steering wheel, guiding the silver coupe through the pitch-black streets. The city slept, completely unaware of the nightmare unraveling inside my car.

I hit the brakes as we pulled into a gritty, neon-lit alleyway. A rusted roll-up door marked the end of the path.

"Home sweet home," Caspian announced. He stepped out and manually hoisted the heavy metal door.

I drove the car inside. The space was a cavernous, oil-stained garage. Tools lined the concrete walls, and the scent of motor oil hung heavy in the air. It was his sanctuary. A place far away from the pristine marble floors of our family estate.

I cut the engine. The silence that followed felt suffocating.

Caspian tossed his keys onto a metal workbench. "Not exactly the penthouse suite you're used to."

"It's secure," I replied, stepping out of the car. "That's all I care about right now."

He leaned against a tall tool cabinet, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark eyes locked onto mine, stripping away all my defenses.

"So," Caspian started, his tone flat. "You didn't just drag me out of the shadows to play mechanic. Why did you really seek me out tonight, Elara?"

I needed him on my side. Anger wouldn't win his loyalty. I had to show him the bleeding wound Kael had left behind.

I lowered my gaze. I let my shoulders slump, allowing the exhaustion of my past life to bleed into my current posture.

"I need your help," I murmured, letting my voice waver. "And you're the only person who can access the main estate servers without triggering the security alarms."

"Hacking my own family." He let out a dry chuckle. "That's treason."

"It's not treason if they're stealing from me." I wrapped my arms around my stomach, protecting the child Kael wanted dead. "Kael and Seraphina... they've been sleeping together for months."

"I know," Caspian replied.

I snapped my head up. "You knew?"

"Everyone with eyes knows, Elara. You were just too blinded by the wedding bells to notice."

"I notice now." I forced the memory of the fatal crash to the front of my mind. A real tear slipped free, tracing a hot path down my cheek. "But the cheating is just the beginning. They are draining my accounts."

Caspian stopped slouching. He stood up straight. "Explain."

"Seraphina convinced him to transfer my family's coastal properties into a joint holding company. My signature was forged on the documents yesterday." I let out a broken sob. The sound echoed off the corrugated metal roof. "They took two million in liquid assets from my private trust."

"He's getting sloppy," Caspian noted, his jaw tightening.

"He's getting greedy. He wants my family's wealth, but he doesn't want the pregnant wife holding him back."

I buried my face in my hands. I cried, letting the genuine terror of my previous death fuel the performance. I expected a sarcastic comment. A cruel joke about my naivety.

Instead, footsteps approached.

Caspian stopped right in front of me. He didn't mock me. He reached out, his calloused thumb brushing the tear from my jawline. The gesture was shockingly gentle.

"Stop crying," he said softly. "Tears won't get your money back."

He shrugged off his heavy leather jacket and draped it over my trembling shoulders. The residual heat from his body seeped into my freezing skin.

"Thank you," I whispered, pulling the lapels closer together.

"Has he always been this ruthless?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Kael?" Caspian scoffed, pulling his hand back. "He drowned my rescue dog when we were kids because it barked at him during dinner. He told my father the gate was left open. My father bought him a purebred the next day to comfort him over the loss."

"And you never exposed him."

"Who would believe the bastard son?" Caspian kicked a stray lug nut across the floor. "He's a parasite, Elara. But he's a protected one."

"I just want the proof," I pleaded. "I need the server logs. The transfer receipts. If I go to the police now, Kael's lawyers will bury me. I need undeniable evidence."

"And then what?"

"Then I ruin him. I take back what's mine, and I make sure he spends the rest of his life in a concrete box."

Caspian studied my face. He looked at the determination burning through my tears.

"You realize if I help you, Kael will figure it out eventually," Caspian warned. "He'll come for my throat."

"He already hates you. What do you have to lose?"

"My quiet life."

"Your life is a cage, Caspian. He keeps you hidden here, fixing cars, while he parades around in suits paid for by your father."

He flinched. The words hit their mark perfectly.

"Fine," Caspian said, turning toward the workbench. "I'll pull the financial records. But this is a temporary arrangement. Once I hand over the flash drive, you leave me out of the fallout."

"Temporary," I agreed. "I promise."

"Good." He grabbed a flashlight and a plastic creeper board. "Now let me see what his mechanic actually did to your ride."

He dropped the board onto the concrete and slid under the front end of the coupe.

I paced the floor, the heavy leather jacket swishing around my knees.

"Seraphina claims she gets motion sickness," I called out to the empty room. "That's why she demanded the SUV for tomorrow's trip."

"She doesn't get motion sickness," Caspian's voice echoed from beneath the chassis. "She just likes the heated passenger seats."

"She's going to hate a prison cell, then."

"Hand me the wire cutters. On the bench."

I grabbed the red-handled tool and crouched beside the front tire, passing it to his outstretched hand.

"Thanks."

A minute passed. Metal clinked against metal. A sharp snap echoed from under the hood.

"Elara."

Caspian's voice lost all its casual sarcasm. It sounded hollow.

"Did you fix the brakes?" I asked.

He slid out from under the car. His face was pale, completely devoid of color.

He sat up and held out his hand. Resting in his palm was a small, black plastic square. A single red light blinked rhythmically in the center. Two severed wires dangled from its base.

"What is that?" I asked, my blood running instantly cold.

"It's not a cut brake line," Caspian said grimly. "It's a remote explosive."

I stared at the blinking red light. My fiancé wasn't planning on an accident. He was planning an assassination.

Before I could speak, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out with shaking hands. Another text from the unknown number lit up the screen.

*Boom.*

"Who sent the text?" Caspian asked. He nodded toward my trench coat pocket.

"A coward who likes to play games," I lied smoothly. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters if they know you're sitting in my garage next to a rigged explosive."

"Focus on the bomb, Caspian."

"I am." He picked up the plastic square, examining the frayed wires. "Military grade. Kael isn't playing around. He wants you vaporized."

I reached into the deep pocket of my coat. My fingers brushed against the thick manila envelope I had stolen from Kael's hidden floor safe earlier tonight. The paper felt heavy. It carried the weight of a ghost.

"He's eliminated problems before," I said.

I pulled the envelope free and held it out.

Caspian glanced at it, then back at my face. "What is that?"

"The real reason I need your help."

He wiped the grease off his hands with a shop rag and took the envelope. He popped the metal clasp. A stack of folded hospital records slid out onto the workbench.

"These are from October," Caspian noted, his eyes scanning the top sheet. "The night you fell down the terrace steps."

"I didn't fall."

He stopped reading. "What do you mean?"

"Turn to the second page. Read the original attending physician's notes."

Caspian flipped the paper. His dark eyebrows drew together. "Blunt force trauma to the abdomen. Defensive bruising on the forearms." He paused. The silence in the garage stretched tight. "Fetal demise."

"I was eight weeks pregnant," I told him. My voice stayed perfectly level. "Seraphina cornered me on the balcony. She told me I was a placeholder. When I tried to walk away from her, she shoved me down the stone stairs."

Caspian's grip on the paper tightened, crinkling the edges. "Kael told the entire family you tripped over a loose paver. He said you were clumsy."

"He paid Dr. Aris fifty thousand dollars to alter my chart." I pointed a trembling finger at the third page. "That is the wire transfer receipt. I pulled it from his private safe tonight."

Caspian stared at the numbers. A muscle ticked rapidly along his jawline.

"He protected her," Caspian muttered.

"He covered up the murder of his own child to keep his mistress out of a jail cell."

"Why didn't you go to the police?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Why stay with him after this?"

"Because I didn't know!" I shouted back. "I woke up in the hospital heavily medicated. Kael sat by my bed and held my hand. He told me the baby just didn't survive the fall. I believed him. I believed the man I was going to marry."

Caspian threw the files onto the metal table. The sharp smack echoed off the walls.

"Then how did you get these?" he asked.

"I woke up tonight. The blindfold finally came off. I broke into his office and found his insurance policy." I stepped closer to him. "He kept the original records to blackmail Seraphina if she ever tried to leave him."

Caspian ran a hand through his messy dark hair. He paced a tight circle around the workbench, his boots scuffing against the concrete.

"He's a sociopath," Caspian said.

"He's a sociopath who is about to inherit a dynasty."

Caspian stopped pacing. He turned to face me. The cynical, detached mechanic was gone. Pure, unadulterated fury burned in his eyes.

"He drowned my dog," Caspian whispered. "He locked me in the cellar for three days when we were teenagers. But this... this is a new level of depravity."

"And now I'm pregnant again." I gestured to the blinking explosive. "He doesn't want another hospital visit. He wants a guaranteed elimination."

Caspian stared at the bomb. Then he looked at my flat stomach.

"I'm in," he said.

"I need more than financial records," I pushed. "If I take these papers to the police, his lawyers will claim I forged them. I need a confession. I need them caught in the act."

"They don't meet in public."

"Then we catch them in private."

Caspian walked over to a tall metal tool cabinet. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a sleek black tablet.

"My father is a paranoid man," Caspian explained, bringing the device to the table. "He wanted eyes on the staff. He had hidden cameras installed across the main estate five years ago."

My pulse jumped. "Kael doesn't know?"

"No one knows. Except me." Caspian powered on the screen. "I wired the system."

A grid of black-and-white video feeds illuminated the dark garage. Dozens of tiny squares showed the empty, pristine halls of the mansion.

"Audio and video," Caspian added. He tapped a square, enlarging the image of Kael's private study. "Every drawing room. Every guest suite."

"We can record them," I said, a fierce sense of triumph blooming in my chest.

"We will record them." Caspian set the tablet down. "We'll catch them planning the hit. We'll get the confession on tape."

I stared at the glowing screen. A thought struck me.

"Can you pull up the garage feed from tonight?" I asked.

Caspian frowned. "You want to see the mechanic plant the bomb?"

"I want to see his face. I want to know exactly who Kael trusts with his dirty work."

Caspian tapped the screen a few times. The live feed vanished, replaced by a time-stamped recording. The underground garage appeared in black and white.

My silver coupe sat in the corner.

"Fast forward," I instructed.

The timestamp blurred as Caspian sped up the footage. At exactly two hours before I came downstairs, a figure slipped through the heavy metal doors.

"Stop," I ordered.

Caspian hit play.

We watched the man walk up to my car. He knelt beside the front tire. He reached under the chassis and planted the explosive.

Then, the man stood up. He turned his face directly toward the hidden lens tucked in the ceiling corner.

The blood drained completely from my head. The cold garage suddenly felt like a furnace.

"Caspian," I whispered, my throat tightening.

"I see it," he replied. His voice sounded entirely hollow.

It wasn't Kael's mechanic.

It was my own father.