Chapter 11 · The Dead Didn't Forget

The name glows on the parchment like it's written in fresh blood. Sienna Vale, Thornwood bloodline, last living heir.

Cade's not moving. He's staring at it. At me. His hand's still on the desk edge, knuckles white.

"Say something," I manage. My voice cracks. Stupid. I should run. I should fight. I should do anything but stand here and wait for him to rip my throat out.

He doesn't. He just keeps staring.

"Six years." His voice is so quiet I almost don't hear it. "Six years you were here. In my house. In my bed."

"Cade—"

"Don't." He holds up a hand. "Don't say my name like that. Like you give a damn."

I take a step back. He takes one forward. We're still three feet apart but it feels like he's got his hands around my throat already.

"Your father murdered mine," I spit out. The words taste like ash. "He faked that challenge. You saw the record. It wasn't legal. It was a slaughter."

"And you thought you'd what? Sleep with his son and call it even?"

That one lands.