Well, it turns out that running a criminal empire is a lot easier than running a high school. I mean, who knew that the real battle would be against things like trust, betrayal, and a bunch of shady government plans? I wasn’t prepared for that. But then again, who ever is?
It was time to form my dream team. No, not the kind of dream team where we’re all wearing matching uniforms and singing kumbaya. This was real life, and in real life, we needed street smarts, illegal labs, and a few good tactical brains. So, I called in Jax for the street resources—his connections ran deeper than a sewer line in South LA. Chloe had the brains, thanks to her family’s pharmaceutical empire. And Diego? Well, Diego had the muscle and the mindset to keep us alive long enough to figure out what the hell was going on.
I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the whole “Liam being left out” thing. But let’s be honest—I wasn’t stupid. Trust wasn’t a currency I could afford just yet. If Liam was going to be a part of this mess, he needed to prove he could handle the heat. For now, I was testing him by keeping him at arm's length, just like I always did with people who had a tendency to make me feel things I didn’t want to feel. But trust me, I wasn’t heartless. Not all the time, anyway.
We started with Jax’s old stomping ground—a rundown, rat-infested auto repair shop that looked like the last place a sane person would ever visit. But then again, Jax wasn’t exactly the poster child for rationality. He was tough, and tough meant survival in a place like this. As we stepped through the door, I could already smell the familiar mix of motor oil, rust, and whatever secret Jax had buried here. You’d think someone in the business of breaking things for a living would keep a cleaner shop, but I digress.
“Welcome to my childhood,” he said, a little too casually for my taste. The place looked like a warzone, and I had to remind myself that it was his warzone, not mine.
He led us to the back, past the grease-stained walls and piles of old tires. There, hidden in plain sight, was a server rack—clunky, dusty, and screaming “Don’t Touch Me, I’m Involved in Something Illegal.”
“Alright,” Jax muttered, wiping off some of the dust, “here’s where the magic happens. Well, where it used to happen.” He plugged in a flash drive and, after a few seconds of clicking, grinned. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Thorne for years. And she doesn’t even know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Keeping an eye on Thorne? Or keeping dirt on her?”
“Both,” he said, matter-of-factly. “When you spend your life being blackmailed by a psycho, you learn a thing or two about surveillance.”
I guess you do. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or horrified. Maybe both.
As Jax showed me the files he’d collected—endless documents detailing every one of Thorne’s shady moves—I had an epiphany: Jax was more than just a guy who looked like he belonged in a fight club. He was smart, in a way that made him more dangerous than half the people I’d dealt with in my life. I respected that. I didn’t want to, but I did.
“Alright,” I said, scanning through the files, “what’s the catch?”
Jax leaned back, his hands behind his head. “Catch is, this isn’t just about Thorne. This is bigger. And your dad, he’s in the middle of it.”
I froze. The mention of my dad never sat right with me, especially now that everything about my family was falling apart. I wasn’t ready to hear that. I wasn’t ready for any of it.
But then Chloe—sweet, unpredictable Chloe—called me over to her side. “You’re not going to like this, but Thorne’s been playing a different game,” she said, her eyes darting over a set of lab results. “The DNA sample Thorne gave you? It’s not from your dad. It’s from a prisoner who’s been dead for three years.”
I blinked. “Wait, what?”
“Yep. Your dad might be alive,” Chloe said, looking at me with a strange mix of sympathy and disbelief. “And if that’s the case, Thorne has been playing everyone, including you.”
I couldn’t process that. My father, alive? After all this time? It didn’t make sense. But if it was true, it meant everything I knew about this situation had been a lie. I wasn’t just trying to find out who killed my mother—I was trying to find out if my dad had been living a secret life this whole time.
Before I could fully digest that piece of news, Jax tapped me on the shoulder. “We’ve got bigger problems,” he said, glancing nervously at the door. “The Ghost Keyboard guys just sent over the files. You’re not going to like what’s in there.”
Ghost Keyboard? Oh, I knew them. They were the kind of people you hire to break into government databases without leaving a trace. The kind of people who didn’t care about the consequences, just the results.
I opened the file, my eyes scanning the text like a hawk searching for its prey. And there it was: Liam’s real last name. Winslow.
I blinked again, this time in utter disbelief. Winslow? As in the same Winslow as that corrupt senator? The one pulling all the strings behind the scenes?
I couldn’t breathe. Liam, the sweet boy I’d tried so hard to trust, wasn’t just a pawn in Thorne’s game—he was the game.
And if that wasn’t enough to tear my world apart, I got an encrypted message on my phone, one I hadn’t seen in years. The familiar voice of my father crackled through the speakers: “Scarlett, I’m safe. Don’t trust Senator Winslow. He killed your mother.”
The world stopped.
“Dad?” I whispered, barely able to believe it.
But I had no time for disbelief. Not anymore. The game was on, and if I wanted answers, I had to play. And play dirty.
Because trust me—no one gets out of this mess without blood on their hands.