Chapter 219 Jace's Rat Reese I always thought Roman was the more sensible one between the two of us. Smart. Level-headed. Capable of functioning under pressure. But standing here and facing this van with two unfamiliar women sitting inside it like hostages, I was starting to rethink every compliment I’d ever given him. “Please,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair, “don’t tell me you’ve added kidnapping to your résumé. Because otherwise, how the hell do you explain this? Who are they, and what are they doing here?” Roman didn’t even care. He just pointed. “That’s Chloe,” he said flatly, nodding at the blonde one who looked like she had barbed wire for blood. She glared at him like she was two seconds from stabbing him to death with a decorative fork. “Sav’s sister.” Then he pointed to the other girl—the one with the pixie haircut and a don’t-mess-with-me jawline. “And that,” he continued, “is Paula. Jace’s rat.”“Who the hell is Jace?” I asked, confused. Paula’s eyebrow shot up like he’d just slapped her. “Jace’s rat? Really, are you serious?” “Sorry,” he said without sounding sorry. “But that’s what you are.” I stared between the three of them, trying to understand how my morning had transformed into… whatever this night was. “What the actual hell is going on here?” I demanded. Roman didn’t answer. He just walked away from the scene, opened the door to the house, and gestured for me to follow. The two girls stayed put in the vehicle, like they’d already given up fighting or arguing with him. Fair enough—arguing with Roman when his mind was made up was like screaming at a brick wall and hoping it turned into a pillow. He led me into the living room Lizzie had just vacated, the air still smelling faintly of her perfume. Roman waved me toward the couch. “Sit,” he said. “Please.” I did, reluctantly. He stood over me, arms crossed, breathing like he’d run a marathon. “I’m going to tell you everything,” he said. “It’s a lot. And I’m sorry if you get confused.” I exhaled slowly. “Okay. Hit me with the confusion.” The next few minutes felt like someone was reading me a conspiracy novel written by a feverish drunk man. I just sat there, blinking occasionally, trying to piece together Roman’s words in a way that made sense. “Hold on,” I said finally, lifting a hand to pause him. “So Savannah is a lovechild born to one of our father’s old… minions? And said minion is now on a murderous rampage to avenge Savannah?” Roman nodded. “Yes.” I nodded too, mostly to convince myself I wasn’t hallucinating. “And the blonde girl outside—Chloe—she’s the villain of Savannah’s story?” He winced. “Not exactly. Her father’s the mastermind. She’s too dumb to pull anything off on her own.” Fair enough. I rubbed my temples, trying to process the madness. “Okay. Next question. If you’ve met this Jace guy and he’s cool with you—cool enough not to add you to the list—why are you trying to stop him? Honestly, if he wants to wipe out his brother and everyone else on his hit list, that’s between him and God. As far as I’m concerned, he’s defending his daughter. What father wouldn’t?” Roman let out a long breath, dragging both hands through his hair. “It’s not about stopping him, Reese.” He sat on the coffee table across from me, elbows on his knees. “I don’t just want to find him to stop him. Sav doesn’t either. She's practically cheering him on.” “So what’s the plan?” He hesitated—never a good sign. “He’s part of The General’s circle,” Roman said. “There’s a chance he knows about our father’s dealings. Maybe he knows something about the tapes. Maybe he knows something about…Dahlia.” “And?” I pressed. “And… maybe if we help him, he can help us. He might know something we don’t.” I stared at him, and then I laughed. Not because it was funny but because it was insane. “You really think it’s that easy,” I said. “You think this is a swoop-in, swoop-out situation? Roman, this is The General we’re talking about. Our father didn’t command an entire army just to play nice when his sons want answers.”He clenched his jaw, frustrated. “If you’re planning to get those tapes,” I continued, leaning forward, “then accept this now: someone has to go down. The General doesn’t just hand over leverage that easily. He doesn’t surrender. He doesn’t negotiate unless he’s holding a knife to someone’s throat.” Roman glared. “You talk like you’re his assistant or something. You seem to know exactly how he runs his illegal businesses. Care to give me some advice?” I didn’t mind. Didn’t get offended. Roman wasn’t attacking me. He was just merely drowning. I could see the stress in his face. The frustration Savannah had dumped on him. The pressure to move several mountains in two days. I’d lived with The General longer than he had. I’d seen things Roman hadn’t. Things he couldn’t even imagine. “I’m not his assistant,” I said quietly. “But I know him. And if you want the tapes, it comes down to two things.” I held up two fingers. “One: you kill him. Even then, he’d rather die with the secret than admit General Blackwood got outplayed by his own sons.”Roman swallowed hard. “And the second option?” I met his eyes. “Strike a deal. Give him something he wants or threaten him with something he doesn’t want exposed.” Roman leaned forward. “Any ideas?” I shrugged. “Public image matters. Especially to politicians. Find something there. You said Paula accused him of a lot of things. Get strong proof. That might move him.” Roman’s eyes lit up instantly. He sat straighter, snapping his fingers. “Paula did mention something in particular. Something we could use. There was a case she talked about.” “What case?” He looked at me slowly, and the air shifted. The kind of shift that tells you something bad is about to be said. And when Roman finally spoke, the words hit me like a punch to the chest. “The Serena case.” My breath left me before I could catch it. For a moment, everything in the room went still. Roman was talking, his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing. My mind had locked onto those three words like a vice. The Serena case. My chest tightened painfully. In all the madness—Savannah’s parentage, Jace’s vengeance, our father’s secrets—Serena’s name hadn’t crossed my mind once. Not in years. Not because she didn’t matter. But because I’d spent years training myself to keep that chapter sealed shut. I pressed my palms to my face. The words looped through my head like a warning. A threat. A ghost. Roman was desperate. Savannah was running out of patience. And our father—the man who built an empire out of blood and silence—was about to be cornered. But The General didn’t get cornered. He devoured. And somewhere tangled in all of this…was Serena. A name I’d tried not to think about for years. The past wasn’t just resurfacing now. It was dragging me back under.