Chapter 1
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Jace
The file feels like it’s searing through my palm, its weight a constant reminder of everything I’m trying to avoid. A month. I’ve been here a goddamn month, holed up, barricading myself behind work and excuses. I haven’t reached out. Hell, I haven’t even stepped into her orbit. Instead, I sit here, combing through this damn file over and over, as if it’s going to tell me something I don’t already know.
The truth? I’m fucking terrified.
Serena. Just the name is enough to tighten my chest. A walking nightmare with a smile that could burn the whole world down. When Dante asked me to help run this location with Rich, I had one condition—I wasn’t sure about Serena. I told him straight up. She’s a loose cannon, the kind that could unravel years of work with a single reckless move. But here I am anyway, stuck in this office, tethered to her name like a goddamn noose.
The knock on the door makes me flinch. Rich steps in, wearing his usual apologetic expression, but it’s the man behind him that freezes me in place.
William Astoff. Serena’s dad.
Shit.
“Jace.” His voice is smooth, calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes my stomach twist. “I was expecting your visit weeks ago.”
Yeah, well, I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I ever will be. Still, I stand, shaking his hand like I’m not seconds away from combusting.
“You understand I’m paying to start this up, so you help me, right?”
“I know,” I say, forcing the lie through gritted teeth. “I’ve been reading the files, trying to piece everything together before making a move.”
Bullshit. The files have nothing to do with it. The truth is simpler. I’ve been paralyzed by fear. The thought of facing her, of being dragged back into her chaos, has me choking on my own indecision.
“Good,” William says, settling into the chair across from me. “Then ask away.”
Ask what? Her file is a laundry list of wild, reckless behavior. She’s crazy, unpredictable, and she fucks men for money. What else is there to know? My silence stretches, and he leans forward, his gaze pinning me like a hawk sizing up prey.
“You seem reluctant, Jace. At one point, you two were inseparable. You would’ve done anything for her.”
“And then she turned my life into a goddamn nightmare,” I snap, my temper flaring despite my better judgment.
“Not without reason,” he fires back, his voice rising.
The room goes still. My muscles lock as I stare him down, the air between us crackling with tension.
“You fucked her best friend, Jace,” he says, his words cutting like a blade.
I laugh, cold and sharp, leaning back in my chair. “After she fucked mine.”
“Still like children, the both of you,” he mutters, rubbing his face in frustration.
“Fine,” I say, throwing up my hands. “I’ll admit it—I went too far. I was hurt, pissed off, and I wanted to get back at her. Happy?”
“Not quite.” His tone is steel. “If you want her to listen to you, you need to fix the past. What happened, Jace? One moment, you two were inseparable, and the next, it was like you’d declared war on each other.”
Nothing happened. Not really. Or maybe everything did.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice flat. “Ask Serena. One day, she showed up at school, cold as ice, and started tearing my life apart piece by piece. She didn’t give a damn about anything. Took my best friend to prom, slept with him, and made sure I knew about it.”
I bite down hard on the memory, the bitterness still fresh despite the years. I ran. As soon as I got the chance, I bolted, leaving everything behind—her, this town, all of it. I didn’t look back. I didn’t try to fix things.
I just ran.
“She didn’t make your life hell,” William says, his voice calm but pointed.
I laugh, bitter and mocking. “You sure about that?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “You only think she did because you didn’t bother to see what was happening to her. You ran when she needed you most.”
The words slam into me like a freight train, and for a second, I can’t breathe. The edges of my past blur with memories I’ve tried to bury, the ones I told myself didn’t matter. But they do.
They always have.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as William’s words dig into my chest like a knife. “You’re wrong,” I mutter, but even I don’t believe it.
William doesn’t flinch. “Am I? Or are you just too scared to admit you might’ve failed her, Jace?”
I swallow hard, the guilt clawing at my throat. I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to fucking go there, but the memories are relentless, flooding back no matter how much I try to shove them down.
“She made my life hell,” I say, my voice hoarse, breaking under the weight of it all. “You weren’t there, William. You didn’t see the shit she pulled.”
His silence only pushes me further, forcing the words to spill out.
“She humiliated me, okay? Every chance she got. At school, in front of everyone, she tore me down like it was her goddamn hobby.” My fists clench on the desk, knuckles white. “She’d spread rumors—shit that wasn’t true, but by the time I’d hear about it, the whole school was laughing behind my back. She told everyone I was cheating in class, got me dragged into the principal’s office more than once. And she’d just sit there, smug as hell, like she’d won.”
William’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“And it wasn’t just the rumors,” I continue, my voice rising with the weight of years of frustration. “She went after the people I cared about. My friends, my teammates—they’d suddenly stop talking to me, and I’d find out later that Serena had been feeding them lies. She made me out to be this… monster, like I was some asshole who deserved it.”
I shake my head, the bitterness thick in my throat. “And the prom thing? That was just the fucking cherry on top. She knew I was planning to ask her—hell, everyone knew. We were supposed to go together. But no, she went with my best friend instead, and I had to sit there, watching her hang all over him. And after? She made damn sure I knew what they did in the back of his car that night.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and bitter, the memories raw and unfiltered. I drag a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” I admit, my voice breaking. “So yeah, I fucked her best friend. I was angry, humiliated, and I wanted her to feel what I felt. And I knew it would hurt her.”
William leans forward, his gaze piercing. “And did it help?”
“No,” I snap, the word cutting like glass. “It just made everything worse. She came back ten times harder, making sure I paid for every second of it. She carved me up, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.”
William sighs, rubbing his temples as if trying to process the mess I’ve just laid out. “You think you were the only one hurting, Jace? You think she was tearing you down just for fun?”
I glare at him, but my anger is hollow, crumbling under the weight of what he’s implying.
“She was a kid, Jace. A hurt, angry kid who didn’t know how to deal with what was happening in her life. And instead of helping her, you fought back, and the two of you tore each other apart. But you were supposed to be her anchor. You were supposed to be her person.”
“Don’t put this all on me,” I growl, but my voice lacks conviction.
“I’m not,” he says, his tone soft but firm. “But you’ve been running from this for years, and it’s time you stopped. You need to face it—face her. Fix it, Jace. Or you’ll both keep bleeding from wounds that never healed.”
I lower my head, the truth crashing down on me like a tidal wave. William’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.
“She deserved better,” I whisper, the admission tearing through me like a blade.
“Yes,” William says quietly. “But so did you. Now it’s time to make things right.”
I close my eyes, the weight of it all pressing down on my chest. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”
“You start by being honest,” William says, his voice steady. “With her. And with yourself.”
Honest. The word feels foreign, sharp and jagged in my mouth. But maybe that’s the only way forward.
For the first time in years, I stop running.
“Okay, tell me everything I need to know. I doubt this file lays it all out, no secrets, no matter how small,” I say, leaning forward, my eyes locked on him.
William exhales heavily, leaning back in his chair, his gaze sharp and assessing. “She was supposed to make you aware of all this, but she never did,” he says, his voice low and clipped.
I stiffen. Of course, she didn’t. She couldn’t. I ran before she had the chance. I nod, motioning for him to continue, though the knot forming in my chest tightens with every second of silence.
“She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, Jace,” he says, his words deliberate, each syllable dropping like a stone. “She came to tell you one night, around the time everything between you two went crazy. She came back after seeing you and said you didn’t care, so she didn’t bother telling you.”
I feel the air leave my lungs in one sharp exhale. Didn’t care? That’s a lie. It has to be. Had she told me, I would’ve cared. I would’ve done something—anything.
“When?” I ask, my voice strained. I need to piece this together, to dig through the wreckage and find the moment I missed.
“You expect me to remember exact dates?” He rubs his face, frustration flickering in his tone. “It was around two weeks after her fourteenth birthday.”
My mind spirals, sifting through the memories like flipping through old, burned-out photographs. But there’s nothing. Just static. No clear picture, no moment that jumps out and screams, this is where it all fell apart. I can’t figure out what triggered her to hate me so deeply.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, shaking my head as if that’ll help clear it. “Is there anything else that’s not in the file?”
William’s jaw tightens as he leans forward, his eyes narrowing like he’s about to drop another bomb. “When you left, she disappeared for two years. Came back engaged to some guy. Turned out she’d met him a week before. Things ended… badly.”
“How badly?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want the answer.
“Badly enough,” he says, his voice clipped. “At some point after that, she ended up working in a strip club.”
The words slam into me, and I immediately go on the defensive. “What club?” I demand, already planning to check if anyone there might’ve pushed her into something worse.
“Bodies,” he says with a shrug, his tone cold, like the name doesn’t carry the weight it just dropped on me. I grab a pen, scribble it down, then glance up. “Go on,” I say, bracing myself for more.
“After getting fired from Bodies, she met some guy. Started hanging out with a motorcycle club. That lasted a couple of years before she gave up on it.”
“A motorcycle club?” I repeat, my stomach twisting.
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Something like Chrome Gods? I don’t know.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes as he searches his memory. “The guy she was dating there? His name was Diesel.”
I write it down, my mind racing, trying to connect dots that feel more like jagged edges tearing through my thoughts.
“Anything else?” I ask, though I can already feel the weight of his words settling over me like a storm cloud.
“She didn’t come home just over a year ago. Didn’t ask for money, didn’t reach out—nothing. That’s not like her. Then I saw her on the street. She said it was ‘fun.’ She hasn’t stopped since.” His voice drops, his gaze sharpening as he watches me closely. “A few guys beat her up pretty bad, but she just went back out there, like nothing happened. Like nothing matters."
The air feels heavy, suffocating. I rub my face with both hands, trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t know what I can do,” I admit, my voice low. The words feel like a defeat, but they’re the truth. If she doesn’t want to stop, if this is what she’s choosing… what the hell am I supposed to do?
William’s expression hardens, his tone growing sharper. “Because of who I am, I’m restricted. But you’re not. I don’t care what it takes, Jace. Even if you have to lock her up for months until she speaks—do it."
I let out a sharp laugh, bitter and humorless. “I’m not about to kidnap her,” I mutter, shaking my head.
His eyes narrow, his voice cutting like a blade. “Even if that’s the only way to get through to her?”
I glare at him, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “William, I can’t force her to give up working the streets to work here. It’s her choice. Trust me, if I force her into anything, she’ll hate me even more. And it’ll only make things worse.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, like I’m the crazy one for thinking there’s a line I won’t cross. But I can’t do it—not like this.
And deep down, I know I’m not sure if I’ll ever get through to her, no matter what I do.
“Okay, when does she usually visit you?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. I need to know when to see her.
William hesitates, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing how much to tell me. “We’ve ensured she calls in at five every evening. Just so we can be sure she’s okay. She skips days here and there, but she should be there tonight.”
Tonight? Shit. I almost wish I hadn’t asked. The thought of facing her already has my chest tightening. “Does she live with you?” I ask, pushing past the growing knot in my stomach.
“Sometimes,” he says, his tone weary. “Other times, no. She won’t tell us where she sleeps. But her room is still there. She keeps her clothes there, and a few new things she’s picked up.”
“I need to check her room,” I say, the words sharp and clipped.
He nods slowly, folding his arms across his chest. “Everyone tells me it’s her bipolar, Jace, but I don’t believe that. There’s more going on. I know there is. But she won’t talk. If you can get her to open up—if you can get her to speak—maybe that will help.”
I nod, the weight of what he’s saying pressing down on me. “Have you tried talking to her?” It’s a stupid question—I know it the second it leaves my mouth.
“Yes,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. “Dale comes by often and tries, but he gets nowhere.”
The mention of that name has my fists curling instinctively.
“I know you don’t like him,” William adds, his voice steady but firm. “Not after what he and Serena did. But he looks out for her. Don’t scare him off.”
I bark out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and humorless.
“Jace,” William says, his tone shifting, taking on an edge of warning. “I’m very aware of Dante and Callum and the way they operate. Their methods work—brutal as they may be. But I’d prefer you didn’t torture or kill Dale for sleeping with the girl you loved when you were younger.”
“I wouldn’t kill him,” I grit out, the words barely escaping through clenched teeth.
“But you’d torture him, wouldn’t you?” William presses, his sharp gaze cutting through me. “And how would that help? He’s one of the few people Serena actually talks to anymore. You might find him useful.”
I sigh heavily, the tension in my body refusing to ease. “Fine. No torturing. No killing.” I roll my shoulders back, trying to shake off the anger simmering beneath the surface. “I’ll come to yours and check her room. I need to see if there’s anything there that gives me answers before I talk to her.”
I stand and grab my phone, my movements clipped and deliberate.
“I’ll be back before we open,” I say, glancing at Rich.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got it covered. Have fun,” he says with a smirk, winking as he leans back in his chair.
I groan, running a hand through my hair. Have fun? Did he miss all of that? What part of any of this sounds like fun?
I swing my leg over my bike and fire up the engine, falling in behind William’s car as he pulls out. I know where he lives—he’s been in the same place for years—but I follow him anyway. When we stop outside his house, I sit there for a moment, staring at it, memories swirling like smoke in the back of my mind.
“Do you remember that last day?” William asks, leaning casually against his car, watching me.
“How could I forget?” I mutter, a bitter laugh slipping out. “She hit me. And not just a slap—she fucking hit me. Hard enough to leave a scar when her nail caught me.” I laugh again, but it’s hollow, and the ache beneath it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of us.
William nods, saying nothing as he turns toward the house.
When we step inside, the familiarity of the place hits me like a freight train. It feels like stepping into a time capsule, everything exactly as I remember it. The walls, the furniture, even the faint scent of her perfume still clinging to the air—it’s like nothing has changed. And yet, everything has.
“You know where her room is,” William says, nodding toward the stairs. “Go ahead. Just… try not to be up there when she shows up. Depending on how she’s feeling today, I can’t guarantee how she’ll react.”
I nod, my jaw tight as I head up the stairs, each step echoing like a drumbeat in my chest.
Her door is exactly as I remember it. For a moment, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Then, with a steadying breath, I push it open and step inside.
It’s like stepping back in time.
The room is frozen, untouched by the years that have passed. The bed, the shelves, the photos on the wall—it’s all the same. And yet, standing here, I feel like a stranger. Like I don’t belong.
I let the door click shut behind me, my gaze scanning the room, searching for something—anything—that might give me the answers I need. But all I’m left with is the weight of memories I’ve spent years trying to forget.
