Chapter 51

The house was dead silent.

Even Nevada, the world's lightest sleeper, was out cold on the couch—soft snores escaping between his parted lips. I crept past him with slow, careful steps, heart thumping like a war drum in my chest. My fingers shook as I slipped on my hoodie and quietly unlocked the front door.

The cool night air kissed my skin the second I stepped out. It was just past 2 a.m., the street dim and empty, except for a few moths dancing under a flickering streetlight.

I texted Elias:

Me: Which café?

No response.

Didn't matter.

I still remembered the name of the one he mentioned on the phone two nights ago—Sable Grounds. Open 24/7, half-dead atmosphere, perfect for secrets.

It took me ten minutes to walk there. The streets looked like ghosts had swept through, leaving only echoes behind.

When I pushed the café door open, the bell above it jingled softly, and I spotted him immediately.

Elias.

Seated in the far corner, black hoodie pulled low, hunched over a laptop and coffee he clearly wasn't drinking. He looked up instinctively—then froze when he saw me.

His eyes narrowed, recognition sparking across his face with something sharp underneath. Surprise. Maybe even... fear.

"Scarlett?" he said, standing halfway up. "What the hell—how did you—?"

"You texted me," I said quietly, sliding into the seat across from him. "I followed the trail."

"I didn't invite you," he said, more stunned than angry.

"I don't wait for invitations," I replied. "You should know that by now."

He sat back slowly, studying me like I was something dangerous. Or something broken.

"I thought you were with your siblings."

"I am." I paused. "But I couldn't sleep. Not after your last message."

His jaw flexed. He looked away.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Too late."

Elias ran a hand through his dark, sleep-mussed hair, exhaling hard. "I wasn't ready to tell you this yet. Not in person."

"Tough," I said, folding my arms. "Tell me anyway."

He hesitated.

And then, slowly, he turned his laptop toward me. A folder on the screen read: Lillian - Testimony.

I leaned forward as he clicked it open. Grainy video footage filled the screen. An older woman—thin, pale, with sunken eyes and hands that trembled even as she clutched a mug—looked straight into the camera.

"My daughter was in love with him," she said in a wavering voice. "But he wasn't right. He was... controlling. Possessive. Cold. When she told him she was pregnant, he changed."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

"She disappeared two weeks before the baby was born. Then the baby was left with me. No note. No warning. Just... gone."

I looked up at Elias.

"Where's the girl now?" I asked.

His eyes were somber. "That's what I'm trying to find out. Lillian said men in dark suits came for her when the baby was two. Took her. Said the father sent them. She never saw her again."

My blood ran cold.

"I think she's alive," Elias added. "But hidden. And if she's hidden, it means Grayson's keeping her away from the world for a reason."

I felt something inside me shift. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was about a child. A life erased.

"Do you think he hurt her?"

Elias shook his head. "No. He's too much of a narcissist to destroy something he thinks he owns. But he's dangerous. And if she becomes a liability..."

I stood up suddenly. "We have to find her."

Elias blinked. "You're serious."

"Dead serious." I stared out the café window, into the empty dark. "Grayson's not just my nightmare anymore. He's hers too."

And I would not let that little girl grow up haunted like I was.