---- Chapter 10 Killian POV: "Don't talk about her like that," | snapped, my voice sharper than | intended. Dallas looked taken aback. "What?" "| said, don't talk about her like that," | repeated, my voice low and dangerous. "She is my partner. You will show her respect." "Partner?" Dallas scoffed, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Killy, be serious! She's a nobody you picked up from a diner. I'm a Lucas! I'm the one who should be your partner. I'm the one who understands you, who can stand beside you. All she does is cry and get in your way!" Her words were poison, but a small, ugly part of me agreed. Emily's sadness had become a burden. | was tired of walking on eggshells, tired of her accusations. Maybe a small break would be good for us. She'd have a little tantrum, realize she couldn't live without me, and come back, more grateful and pliable than before. Yes, that's what this was. A tantrum. | pulled out my phone, my confidence returning. I'd call her, let her vent, and then send a car to pick her up. ---- | dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. Strange. She never turned her phone off. | tried again. Voicemail. A cold dread began to creep up my spine. | opened our message thread to type a text. Emily, this has gone on long enough. Call me. | hit send. A moment later, a small, red notification appeared beneath my message. Delivery failed. This user has blocked your number. Blocked me? She had blocked me. The air in the room suddenly felt thin, hard to breathe. | stared at the screen, the words blurring in front of my eyes. Blocked. The finality of it was a punch to the gut. "What's wrong, Killy?" Dallas asked, her voice cautious. She could see the storm gathering on my face. "Did the little bird fly the coop?" She sidled up to me, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe she found someone else. A woman like her, with no money or connections... she's probably latched onto the next rich man she could find." ---- "Shut up!" | roared, the sound ripping from my chest. | grabbed her arm, my fingers digging into her skin. "Emily would never do that! She loves me!" But even as | said the words, a sliver of doubt pierced my heart. She hadn't looked at me with love in months. Only pain, and then... nothing. Just a cold, empty void where her adoration used to be. Things had gone too far. | had let them go too far. My mind raced, trying to piece it all together. The hospital. The empty house. The blocked number. This wasn't a tantrum. This was an escape. My hands trembling, | dialed my assistant's number. "Sir?" he answered, his voice thick with sleep. "The Ramos boy," | said, my voice tight. "Leo. What's the status of his treatment? | want an update. Now." There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. "Sir," my assistant finally said, his voice laced with confusion. "Leo Ramos passed away. Over a week ago. I... | tried to tell you. | sent you a dozen emails. You said you were busy." The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the marble floor. Dead. Leo was dead. ---- "No," | whispered, shaking my head. "No, you're mistaken. Emily would have told me." But she had tried to tell me. | remembered now, the frantic calls |' d ignored, the desperate texts |' d dismissed. | had been with Dallas, buying her a ridiculous cat, when Emily had been pleading for my help. | had told her | was in a meeting. The blood drained from my face as another memory slammed into me with the force of a physical blow. The old apartment. Emily, standing in the alley, her face pale and tear-streaked. She hadn't been there to spy on me. She had been there to collect her dead brother's belongings. And I... | had stood there and defended Dallas. | had watched, impassively, as Dallas deliberately crushed the last thing Leo had ever made. | had called it a "stupid clay bird." | had pushed Emily to the ground. The full weight of my cruelty, my monstrous neglect, crashed down on me. "Oh, God," | choked out, stumbling backward until my back hit the wall. "What have | done?"