Chapter 1039
“He killed himself,” Skye said firmly. “You just stopped him from taking us with him.”
Liam squeezed her hand once, then let go. “I need to think, Skye. Just… give me a minute.”
They reached the exit—a rusted grate that opened onto the rocky beach below the cliffs. They pushed it open and stumbled out into the cool, salty night air.
The sky was beginning to lighten in the east. Dawn.
R𝖾а𝖽 𝘰n 𝗮𝗻у 𝘥𝘦𝗏i𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗀𝗮𝗹ո𝘰𝘷𝗲𝘭s.𝘤𝘰𝘮
Above them on the cliff, smoke billowed from the collapsed wing of the Vance Manor. Flames licked the sky, consuming the history, the lies, and the body of Bastian Kensington.
Victoria was waiting on the beach, shivering in her ruined red dress. She had escaped through a side door when the chaos started. She ran to them.
“You made it!”
She looked from Alistair to Skye. “Preston?”
“Left behind,” Alistair said. “He made his choice.”
Victoria nodded slowly and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Okay. And Graves? Lucian?”
“Bastian kept him at the Fortress,” Liam said, his voice hollow. “But before the raid, I triggered the automatic release for the detention cells. He should be free by now. Or at least in police custody.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Police boats were approaching from the harbor.
“We can’t be here,” Julian said. “If they find us, the questions never end.”
“We have a boat,” Ethan said, pointing toward a small cove where a Zodiac was hidden.
“Go,” Liam said. He stopped walking.
“What?” Skye turned. “Liam, get in the boat.”
“No,” Liam said. He stood tall, the wind whipping his wet clothes. “Someone has to explain this. Someone has to tell the story.”
“You’ll go to prison,” Skye said.
“No,” Liam said. “I’m the grieving son who escaped the madman. I’m the heir. If I disappear, Bastian wins—he destroys the company, the legacy. If I stay, I control the narrative.”
He looked at Skye. His eyes were clear for the first time in years.
“I need to bury him, Skye. I need to bury all of them. Beatrice. Bastian. The past.”
“Liam…”
“Go,” he urged. “Be Nemesis. Be Phoenix. But let me be the shield.”
He stepped back. “I’ll tell them Bastian went crazy. I’ll tell them you were never here. I’ll tell them Alistair tried to save Julian.”
“Why?” Alistair stepped forward. “Why help me?”
Liam looked at him. “Because you make her happy. And I just made her cry.”
The sirens were getting louder.
“Go!” Liam shouted.
Skye looked at him one last time. The broken boy. The cruel husband. The savior.
“Goodbye, Liam,” she whispered.
She turned and ran to the boat. Alistair helped her in. They pushed off into the chop.
As the motor flared to life, Skye looked back. Liam was standing alone on the beach, hands raised as the police lights swept over him. A solitary figure against the burning dawn.
Three days later.
The news cycle was relentless. Kensington Tragedy. Billionaire Madman. Heir Survives Inferno.