"You have twelve hours, Celeste. Then I start killing everyone you love."
The message came at three a.m. Rylan attached a video. Celeste hit play with trembling hands.
The screen showed a dim warehouse. Six people sat tied to chairs — allies who’d helped her. In the middle of them was someone who made her stomach drop.
Her brother. The real one.
“No,” she breathed.
Damien looked over her shoulder. “When did he get him back?”
“I thought we moved him somewhere safe,” she said.
“Nowhere is safe from Rylan,” Damien answered.
Rylan walked into frame and smiled at the camera. “Twelve hours, sister. Come alone. Surrender yourself and the heir documents. Or watch everyone die.”
The screen went black. Celeste threw the phone. It hit the wall and cracked.
“We need to think,” Damien said.
