Loise kissed Star all over her face—so fiercely, so desperately, that Star almost wondered if her mother had actually gone to the station and filed a statement against her.
"I'm so sorry, my baby," Loise sobbed, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks. "I will never let you out of my sight again. And I will sign those papers."
Star smiled, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
"What happened to your hand? Are you okay? Does it hurt?" Loise's questions came in a breathless rush as she gently touched Star's bandaged fingers.
"I'm fine, Mummy." Star's voice was soft, a fulfilled smile curving her lips.
"Are you serious?" Tomas cut through the moment, disbelief twisting his face.
"You waltz in here—after running off with this man—" He jabbed a finger toward Lucian, who only stared back. Tomas quickly retreated his arm, mindful of the healing bone Lucian had already broken once. "And you have the audacity to bring him into my home? Are you this stupid, Star? I really thought you were better than your mother, but jeez… have some respect."
He stormed into the living room, leaving Frieda cowering in the kitchen doorway.
"Did Frieda tell you that?" Star asked, her voice laced with the quiet confidence of someone itching to punch her father in the face.
"Frieda didn't need to tell me anything." Tomas squared his shoulders. "This is my home. I rule here. So leave."
Star scoffed.
"Frieda," she said, turning toward the woman who looked ready to melt into the wall, "are you sure I should leave?"
"What's Frieda got to do with anything?" Tomas pressed, his brow furrowing.
Everything.
Because Frieda had told Tomas everything. How Star ran away with Lucian—the same man who'd shattered Tomas's arm in the restaurant. The same man is now standing in his living room. Frieda had thought of every possible angle to screw up Star's escape. She'd forced Loise to make a statement against Star, just in case Lucian grew suspicious and came for her. She'd sent Ramon to handle the rest—gagged, raped, left for dead. Of course she didn't tell about the rape and death of Star, he doesn't need to know everything.
So how the hell was Star standing here?
"Frieda, honey?" Star grinned—slow, deliberate, and dangerous.
Good. She was already savoring her revenge. It was almost lucky the police hadn't wanted to register her case. Now she had something far more satisfying planned. Frieda would pay for everything.
"I said out!" Tomas yanked Star by her bandaged hand. But she didn't budge. Instead, she ripped her arm free so violently that Tomas stumbled backward and collapsed onto the sofa.
"My daughter isn't going anywhere," Loise said. Her voice had steel now. Confidence she'd buried for years rose like a tide.
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
This isn't the woman who gave up everything. Who chose an abusive husband over her own child.
Tomas struggled to his feet, utterly confused by the woman standing before him. Minutes ago, she'd obeyed him like a loyal slave. Now she spoke like this?
He raised his hand to slap her.
Star beat him to it.
The crack of her palm across his face echoed through the room.
"Star! That's your father!" Loise gasped, watching Tomas wobble, stunned.
Tomas was a bad man. But still an elder. Still someone Star should respect.
"Please," Star said quietly, walking toward Frieda, "don't make me regret that my escape was worth nothing."
She stopped inches from Frieda, who watched the scene in wide-eyed horror.
"I'm back, Frieda." Star's voice was silk over broken glass. "And I just want to say… you really made a good decision, moving in with my dad."
She sniffed the air. Garlic. Onions. Something simmering.
"You were cooking?" Star's mood shifted like a blade turning. "I'm absolutely famished."
She walked into the kitchen as if she hadn't just threatened Frieda's entire existence. The night, suddenly, was looking up.
Lucian took slow, deliberate steps toward Frieda.
She shrank back, eyes darting over him—searching for a gun, a knife, or anything he might use to end her.
"Hmm." Lucian tilted his head, studying her trembling, pathetic form. "You're Ramon's sister. I knew the Tuesday you kidnapped Star." He paused, letting the weight settle. "Ever wondered why I didn't come for you sooner?"
His phone vibrated.
Frieda's heart dropped to her feet as Lucian reached into his jacket pocket.
"Please…" The word escaped her like a dying breath.
This was Lucian Thorne. He didn't care about witnesses. He'd put a bullet in her head without batting an eyelash.
"We're not done." Lucian turned and walked out the door to answer the call.
Frieda exhaled—a long, shuddering breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a caged animal.
***
Adrian's mood was sour.
He parked in the garage of his duplex and stepped inside. The house was full—crammed with important people from every department. His employees. Politicians. Business moguls. The wealthiest names in Crestfall.
He'd forgotten. It was his father's birthday.
Adrian groaned. Perfect. Worst day of my life.
"There you are." Tiffany approached, a glass of wine in hand. "Mrs. Stark said you left early. Worried about Star?"
"Where's Mom?" Adrian scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on Mr. Jackson, who raised a glass in greeting.
"In her home office." Tiffany studied him. "Will you be around for the toast?"
"No." He was already walking away.
Tiffany watched him go. "His mood was sour this morning. Now it's just rotten," she murmured to herself.
Inside the home office, Maria was kissing a man.
He was bold and muscular, with gray eyes and a smile that could start wars—and end marriages.
"Tonight is our special night," he whispered against her lips, then pulled her back in.
"Yes." Maria's voice was breathless. "Adrian is at his hotel. Bonita won't see a thing."
A surge of pleasure vibrated through her body. She was completely wet.
Then the door squeaked open.
They moved like lightning. Maria dropped into her chair, eyes glued to a file she wasn't reading. The man sat upright in the visitor's seat, composed, as if they'd been deep in important business.
Maria looked up and nearly jumped out of her skin.
Adrian.
He was always at his hotel on Mr. Stark's birthdays. Every single year since the day he disappeared. So what the hell was he doing here tonight?
"Adrian." Maria's voice pitched higher than she intended—a warning to the man seated in front of her, who kept his head down.
Adrian frowned at the back of the man's head.
"Attorney Alexander stopped by…" He twirled a USB drive between his fingers, but something in this room felt off. The air was too thick. Too careful.
"Who's this?" He stepped around to get a good look.
His blood boiled.
"Adrian—" the man started.
"What are you doing here?" A new kind of rage flooded Adrian's system. He turned to his mother. "Mom?"
"He came for his best friend's birthday," Maria said quickly—too quickly. Anything to throw off the scent of what had been happening before he barged in.
"For his birthday?" Adrian's laugh was hollow. "Does he come here every year? Since Dad left?"
"Adrian, you have—"
"I'm asking Mom." His voice went cold.
Maria swallowed hard. "Yes."
Adrian's jaw tightened. A thought crossed his mind—dark, ugly, and deeply inconvenient—but he buried it. The last thing he needed was his mother sleeping with his business rival.
He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
"Adrian!" Maria called after him, but he was already gone.
***
Star stepped outside as Lucian's Bentley pulled up to the yard, Lyrl behind the wheel.
"Are you already leaving?" she asked.
"Yeah." Lucian's voice was distant. "I have something to take care of. Quick."
"Well, thank you for bringing me home." Star folded her arms. "But it doesn't make up for the fact that I was kidnapped. Had my hand smashed. And you never came to rescue me."
"I deserve that." A faint line appeared on Lucian's lips—almost a smile.
Star glanced at the Bentley, still running.
"Is it true?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Lucian's expression flickered. "What's true?"
"Back at the station… Adrian insinuated you're some fearsome mafia boss."
A lump lodged itself in Lucian's throat.
Star doesn't know the truth about his money or the life he leads, and he intends to keep it that way. Not because he doesn't trust her—but because he does. Because the truth would paint a target on her back. He is a man with power, the kind built in shadows and sealed in blood, and power like that breeds enemies. Enemies who would kill him, overthrow him, or break him slowly by hurting the one person he can't live without. Star isn't part of his world. She's the one thing in it that's still good. And that makes her the most dangerous weakness a man like him could ever have.
"No," he said flatly.
"Well… if you are?" Star's eyes glinted. "I want to join. I want to smash some heads."
Lucian's blood ran cold. Star can't have blood on her hands. He opened his mouth to object—
And then Star burst out laughing. Hysterical, wild, joyful laughter.
"You should have seen your face!" she gasped.
Lucian exhaled. Relaxed. Of course. A joke.
"See you tomorrow?" Star asked.
Lucian nodded and watched her disappear back into the house.
He slid into the Bentley. Lyrl was already in the passager's seat.
"Did you tell her?" Lyrl asked quietly.
"No." Lucian's jaw tightened.
He hit the gas. Tires screeched as the Bentley tore down the street and vanished into the city.
Some secrets had to stay buried.
For her sake.