Page 92 of Billionaire’s Ruin

I resented him deeply for it.

It terrified me that Kai still had the power to pull me apart with nothing more than his name.

It scared me how deeply he’d carved himself into the deepest parts of me so thoroughly that even now—after everything—my heart twisted instantly toward him.

It infuriated me that no matter how far I ran or how carefully I tried to rebuild myself, some part of me was still tethered to him.

I didn’t recognize myself anymore.

And maybe that was the part that terrified me most.

“Red scarf!”

The shout detonated through the apartment—sudden, explosive. Every muscle snapped to attention before my brain even caught up. For a second, I wasn’t sure where the voice came from; all I knew was adrenaline surged fast and hard through my veins.

“What is it?” I called out, already moving.

I bolted out of the guest room, feet slapping against the cold marble as I sprinted down the hallway toward the sound.

“Red scarf!” Dave called again—closer now, urgent, electric.

I rounded the corner to find him at the floor-to-ceiling window, arm extended, finger stabbing toward the glowing cityscape.

“Lucy’s apartment,” he said, a clipped breath. “She hung the scarf by the window.”

He turned to me, eyes blazing with purpose. “It’s go time.”

The whole apartment erupted.

Doors burst open.

Heavy footsteps slammed against the floor.

People streamed out from hallways, side rooms, hidden nooks I didn’t even know existed.

Within seconds, the quiet, controlled calm I’d grown used to was replaced by a surge of raw, laser-focused urgency.

A messy, chaotic chorus of shouts overlapped around me.

Orders shouted.

Bags yanked from under tables.

Weapons checked with practiced movements.

There were more of them than I realized. Dozens—faces I’d only ever seen in passing, now lit with the same fierce set of grim determination.

For the first time, I finally saw what Lincoln had built here.

A network.

A force.

A family forged by necessity and loyalty and loss.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come.”

The voice—familiar, quiet, annoyingly steady—irritation spiked instantly through my system.