Chapter 10
1866 Words
Isabella's POV
The light is too much. It’s a white wall. My eyes burn.
Behind me, the lighthouse makes a low, hungry sound. Wood snapping. Heat on my neck.
Liam is on the ground. He’s bleeding. The red on his shoulder looks black under the spotlight. He’s trying to reach my foot.
"Isabella," he says. His voice is a wreck. "Down. Get down."
I don't. I point Julian’s gun at the light. The metal is cold. My hand is steady, which is strange. I feel nothing. Just the wind.
The helicopter is loud. A black shadow against the smoke. Vane’s logo is right there. A gold 'V' mocking the fire.
"Put it down, Isabella!"
My father’s voice. Loudspeaker. It vibrates in my teeth.
"Isabella!" Liam again. He’s coughing.
I look at the chopper. The door is open. Arthur is leaning out. He’s wearing a headset. He looks like he’s in a boardroom, not a gale.
"The stone," Arthur shouts. "Show it to me."
I reach into my coat. The sapphire is there. I hold it up. The blue is dull in the white glare.
"Is it the real one this time?" Arthur calls. He sounds bored. "Or did you find more glass in the cellar?"
"Does it matter?" I say.
The wind swallows my voice. I have to scream it.
"Does it matter, Arthur? You're losing. The stocks. The news. You’re done."
"I’m never done," he says. The loudspeaker crackles. "Give me the stone. I’ll clear the kid. I’ll pull the lawyers."
"Sign the immunity," I say.
"Give me the stone first."
"No."
Liam grabs my ankle. His grip is tight. Too tight.
"Isabella, don't," he says. "He’ll just... he’ll kill us anyway."
"He needs the codes," I say. I don't look at Liam. I look at the man in the sky. "He’s a businessman. He won't kill the only person who knows the shift."
"I don't have all night," Arthur says.
The helicopter hovers lower. The downdraft is a physical blow. It smells like kerosene and salt.
"Sign it," I scream. "Now. Or it goes in the fire."
I hold the sapphire over the edge of the burning lighthouse base. The flames are reaching. The stone is getting warm in my hand.
Arthur is talking to someone behind him. I see his hand move.
Liam’s phone pings. It’s a sharp, digital sound.
Liam looks at it. He’s shaking.
"It’s signed," Liam says. He looks up at me. "He actually signed it."
"Good."
I don't drop the stone. I put the gun in my waistband.
"Isabella, what are you doing?" Liam asks.
I look at the helicopter. The ladder is dropping. A rope ladder. It hits the rocks with a thud.
"Go, Liam," I say. "Take your mother. Go to the boat."
"Not without you."
"Go."
I step toward the ladder.
"Arthur!" I yell. "I’m coming up! But they leave now! No tail! No cops!"
"Agreed," Arthur says.
I look at Liam one last time. He’s staring at me. He looks like he doesn't know who I am. He’s right. I don't know either.
I grab the first rung. The rope is rough.
"Wait," Liam says. He’s standing now. He’s swaying. "The stone. You still have it."
I look at him. I look at the helicopter.
I reach into my pocket. I pull out a small, heavy object. I toss it to Liam.
He catches it. It’s not the sapphire. It’s a piece of charred wood from the cellar.
The real stone is still in my palm.
"Tell the press I'm dead," I say.
I start to climb. The chopper begins to rise before I’m even halfway up. My feet dangle over the fire.
The ladder pulls me into the dark.
The cabin is pressurized. It’s too quiet after the wind. It smells like expensive leather and old coffee.
I pull myself inside. My knees hit the metal floor. My hands are black with soot. I look at the carpet. White wool. I’m staining it.
Arthur doesn't look at me. He’s looking at his watch.
"Twenty minutes late," he says.
He taps a screen on the armrest. The door slides shut. The noise of the rotors fades to a hum.
"The stone," he says.
I stand up. My legs feel like they’re made of wet paper. I don't move. I stay near the door.
"The immunity," I say. "I want to see the confirmation. The filing."
Arthur sighs. He looks tired. "You saw the ping, Isabella. I don't play games with signatures. It’s messy."
"You play games with everything else."
He looks at me then. Truly looks. His eyes are cold. No relief. No anger. Just a checklist.
"You look like a gutter rat," he says. "The Sterling boy. Did he do that to you? Or did you do it to yourself?"
"He didn't do anything."
"He survived. That’s enough of a crime."
Arthur holds out his hand. "The stone. Now. I have a board meeting in three hours. I need the encryption live before the markets open in Tokyo."
I reach into my pocket. I feel the sapphire. It’s hot from the fire.
"I want Catherine safe," I say.
"She’s on the island. She has a boat. She has a son. They’re fine."
"Promise me."
Arthur laughs. It’s a dry sound. "Promises are for people who can't afford lawyers. Give me the stone, Isabella. Don't make me have them search you. It’s undignified."
I pull it out. I hold it between two fingers.
The blue is deep. Dark. Like the water we just left.
Arthur reaches for it. His fingers are dry. He grabs it. He holds it up to the cabin light.
"Beautiful," he whispers. "The Sterling heart. Finally stopped beating."
He goes to a small safe in the wall. He drops it in.
"Sit down," he says. "There’s water in the fridge. Clean your face."
I sit. The leather is soft. It feels wrong.
"Where are we going?"
"The city. We have a lot of work to do. The press thinks you’re a victim. We’re going to play that."
"I told Liam to tell them I'm dead."
Arthur stops. He turns around.
"You did what?"
"He’s going to tell them the lighthouse took me. It’s easier."
Arthur stares at me. Then he smiles. It’s the first real thing I’ve seen on his face all night.
"Smart," he says. "A ghost is easier to manage than a daughter. We’ll keep you in the penthouse. Total seclusion. Until the merger is finalized."
"I’m not staying in the penthouse."
"You’ll stay where I tell you."
I look out the window. The island is gone. Just black.
"The signatures," I say. "They’re permanent?"
"As permanent as anything is."
I lean back. I close my eyes.
I think about the piece of wood I threw to Liam. I think about the look on his face.
He thinks I’m a traitor. Or a martyr.
I don't know which is worse.
I feel the helicopter tilt. We’re turning south.
"Isabella," Arthur says.
I don't open my eyes.
"The codes. The shift you mentioned. The sequence."
"I’ll give it to you when we land."
"Give it to me now."
"No."
Arthur doesn't push. He’s got the stone. He thinks he has time.
He doesn't know.
He doesn't know that I didn't just switch the stone.
I switched the logic.
The sapphire is the key. But I changed the lock while I was in the cellar.
The encryption doesn't lead to the money anymore.
It leads to a mirror.
Every time Arthur tries to use those codes, it will trigger a buy-back of Sterling stocks. Using Vane money.
He’s going to fund his own destruction. And he’s going to use my hand to do it.
I feel a strange surge of heat. Not the fire. Something else.
Power.
"You're quiet," Arthur says.
"I'm tired."
"Sleep then. It’s a long flight."
I don't sleep. I count my breaths.
I think about the red dress. I think about the salt in my hair.
I think about the way Liam’s hand felt on my ankle.
I’m sorry, Liam.
But I’m not finished yet.
The city appears. A grid of gold and white.
We’re over the harbor now. I see the bridges. The traffic. People going to work. People who don't know the world almost ended on a rock in Maine.
Arthur is on the phone. He’s talking to the CEO of a bank. He’s sounding charming.
"Yes, she’s safe," he says. "A terrible ordeal. But she’s a Vane. She’s strong."
He winks at me.
I want to throw up.
We reach the Vane Tower. The helipad is ready. Men in suits are waiting.
The landing is a light bump.
The door opens. The city air is cold. It smells like metal and exhaust.
Arthur stands up. He adjusts his tie. He looks perfect.
"Stay behind me," he says. "Keep your head down."
I get out. The wind from the rotors is still hot.
I walk across the roof.
I see the elevator. The silver doors.
I think about the cellar. I think about the dark water.
I look at Arthur’s back.
He thinks he won.
He thinks I’m the prize.
But a prize is a dead thing.
And I’m very much alive.
I reach into my waistband. The gun is gone—I must have dropped it when I climbed the ladder.
It doesn't matter.
I have the codes.
I follow him into the elevator.
The doors shut.
The descent begins.
Arthur looks at his reflection in the gold panels. He fixes his hair.
"Eight o'clock, Isabella. Don't be late."
"I won't be late, Father."
The elevator dings.
The lobby is full of light.
I walk out.
I see the cameras. The flashes.
Arthur puts an arm around my shoulder. He’s heavy.
"She’s home," he tells the reporters.
I don't smile. I don't look at the lenses.
I look at the floor.
I am Isabella Vane.
I am the survivor.
And I am the end of this empire.
Decision made.
No turning back.
I walk through the crowd.
Every flash is a heartbeat.
Every question is a lie.
I am home.
And the war is just starting.
- Writer
