Chapter 19

The pack piled on his ride like a flash mob from hell.

Rotten eggs, slimy greens—splat pack on the glass.

Kin howling accusations, gawkers piling on the outrage—Joseph pinned, wheels spinning air.

Snowballed quick; his rig a bunker in the frenzy.

Enforcers finally cleared the path, but too late.

Stocks tanked like a bad moon, online hate crashing in waves.

Joseph's feeds? War zone—torched.

Victim families camped his doorstep round-the-clock, justice on the menu.

Enforcers' memo—"he got played"—fell on deaf ears.

Endgame? Lewis elders stepped up, presser-style.

Public cut-off: no ties, no mercy. Hauled out the bloodline book, scratched him clean.

Joseph? Holed up days—weeks?—a ghost in his own house.

Wrecked and ragged, he smashed the tumbler, staggering down to the basement shadows.

Dim room, squat iron crate dead-center.

Inside? She-wolf huddled, quaking in the corner.

Not alone—dozens of starving rats, bellies empty, teeth on her hide for supper.

Zoe? Shattered, feral—clocked him descending and dropped to knees, skull-banging the bars. "My bad! Joseph—mercy! Let me out!"

Mind games had cracked her wide; she was mush.

Anything for freedom—name it, she'd fetch.

Joseph's eyes? Pure scorn.

How'd he ditch me—for this?

Gina's name hit like acid, teeth grinding. "Zoe, come on—where's the fire? You went beast-mode on Shawn, framed me slick—queen bee then, right? Without you? I wouldn't be in the crosshairs. Her hate? Your gift. You'll grovel till she forgives. Till then? Cozy up with your pals."

Her wails chased him up the stairs.

But he stumbled out, deaf.

Wanted me bad—Brian's walls? Ironclad. No cracks, no glimpse.

Till whispers hit: Gina's binding ceremony—groom Brian.

He trashed the place, roar echoing empty.

Eve of the rite, he stormed Johnson's gates, no holds barred.

Brawled the guards tooth-and-claw—Joseph wasn't soft meat.

Busted through? There I sat, living room throne, waiting.

Clicked then: he'd crashed 'cause I waved him in.

Hope sparked in his eyes. "Gina!"

Step forward—guard wall dropped.

Didn't glance up. "Joseph... you get it, right? This wreck? My blueprint, start to finish." Voice soft, but steel.

His throat bobbed—swallow hard.

Knew it. Burned him.

"Gina... Zoe's paid—deep. I'll show you. She's wrecked for her sins. Can we—"

"Nope."

Shock hit him, then the sting—like a slap without the swing.

Hadn't even spilled the ask; I'd shut it down.

He chuckled—broken, head hanging. "No matter what... no forgiveness? Whatever I pull... no rewind to us?"

No words, but my face? Answer enough.

He backpedaled, blood dripping from his knuckles to the rug.

Face ashen. "Last one: you wishing me cold?"

Quiet stretched.

He quit chasing echoes.

Ghosted.

Brian's paw landed light on my shoulder. "Easy—I've got you."

Rite day dawned; guards thick as thieves.

But poof—I vanished.

Brian lost it, orders flying: hunt!

Woke groggy—drugged from the jump seat.

Private hospital room, sterile stink.

Twitched to bolt—chest stabbed familiar.

Paws pinned me gentle. "Whoa—stay put. Fresh off the table."