Chapter 14: A game of shadow

Carter and I didn't have much time.

Damien was expecting proof of his death, and if I didn't deliver it soon, he'd start asking questions. Questions I couldn't afford to answer.

We needed a body.

Or at least something convincing enough to make Damien believe Carter was dead.

We worked quickly.

The warehouse was filled with abandoned crates, broken equipment, and discarded tarps. Michael had taught me a few things about deception, and I was about to put them to the test.

Carter found an old mannequin in the storage room—dusty, missing an arm, but still usable.

"We need blood," I muttered, pulling out my knife.

Carter frowned. "What are you—"

Before he could stop me, I sliced a shallow cut across my arm, just enough to make it bleed.

"Jesus," Carter swore.

I ignored him, letting the blood drip onto the mannequin's chest. It wasn't perfect, but under the right lighting, it would look real enough.

Next, we set up the scene.

We dragged the mannequin to a dark corner of the warehouse, covered it with a tarp, and splattered more blood around it. Then I snapped a quick photo with my burner phone—just enough to show a lifeless, bloodied figure beneath the fabric.

Damien wouldn't inspect it closely.

He'd see what he wanted to see.

Carter watched me work, his expression unreadable. "You've done this before," he muttered.

I didn't answer.

Because the truth was—I hadn't.

But I had spent my life surviving. And survival meant knowing how to play the game.

I turned to Carter. "We need to get you out of here."

Carter hesitated. "And go where?"

I pulled out another piece of paper—one Michael had slipped me before I left.

"A safe house," I said. "Michael set it up before… everything. It's outside the city. You'll be safer there."

Carter exhaled. "And what about you?"

I met his eyes. "I go back to Damien."

His brows furrowed. "That's suicide."

"No," I corrected. "That's trust. If I disappear now, he'll know something's wrong. If I come back with proof of your death, he won't suspect a thing."

Carter shook his head. "You're playing a dangerous game, kid."

I already knew that.

I was just hoping I wouldn't lose.

By the time I returned to Eden, the city was drowning in neon lights and restless shadows.

The club was as loud as ever—music thumping, people laughing, deals being made in dark corners.

But I barely noticed any of it.

I walked straight to Damien's office.

He was waiting.

His cold eyes flickered over me as I entered. "Well?"

I pulled out my phone and handed it to him.

He swiped to the photo.

A slow smirk curled his lips.

"You did it."

I nodded.

Damien studied the image, then leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

I forced a small smile. "Never."

But I could feel his gaze lingering on me, sharp and assessing.

"You look different," he noted.

I swallowed. "Long night."

He chuckled. "That's what I like to hear."

Then he slid my phone back across the desk.

"Get some rest, Winnie. You've earned it."

I left the office without looking back, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Carter was safe—for now.

But this wasn't over.

Damien thought he had won.

And that meant, for the first time, I had the advantage.

I just needed to figure out how to use it before he realized the truth.