22.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The second his head hit the floor, I screamed.

"REN, STOP!"

But my father? He just got louder.

"SECURITY!" he bellowed, his voice filled with rage and panic. "GET THIS BITCH OFF ME!"

I barely had time to process before the door flew open and three of his security guards stormed in.

Big. Heavy. Trained.

"Get the fuck off him!" one of them shouted, and then—

They grabbed her.

Hard.

One of them yanked her arm back at an angle that made Ren grunt in pain.

I saw it.

The flash of pain in her eyes.

The way her jaw clenched.

The way she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

And I lost it.

I ran straight for them, swinging.

I didn't care if they were three times my size. I didn't care if they were trained to take down men twice as strong as Ren.

I just needed them to let her go.

I threw wild hits at the biggest one, pounding my fists against his chest, his arms, anything I could reach. "LET HER GO! LET HER GO!"

But before I could even make a dent—

An iron grip wrapped around my waist.

Yanked me back.

Fast. Hard. Violent.

"ENOUGH, YANNA!"

My father.

I gasped, squirming, kicking, trying to break free. "GET OFF ME!"

"YOU ARE OUT OF CONTROL!" His grip tightened, lifting me slightly off the ground, like I was nothing. "YOU THINK THIS IS CUTE?! YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME?!"

I was sobbing. Fighting. Desperate.

But then—

I heard Ren groan.

I turned my head just in time to see one of the guards twisting her arms behind her back, forcing her down onto her knees.

Her face twisted in pain, but she didn't say a word.

Didn't beg.

Didn't break.

Just stared at me.

Like she was sorry.

Like she was saying goodbye.

I couldn't stop crying.

"Please," I sobbed, begging. "Just stop! Stop hurting her!"

But they didn't.

One of the guards yanked Ren up by her arm, jerking her forward. She stumbled but didn't fight back, her face blank, unreadable—except for her eyes.

Her eyes were on me.

Even as they dragged her toward the door.

Even as she disappeared down the hall.

And right before she was out of sight—

She mouthed it.

I love you.

My heart shattered.

I lunged forward instinctively, but my father's grip was still tight on me, holding me in place.

"REN!" I screamed, but it was too late.

She was gone.

And then?

I snapped.

I turned on my father, my face hot with rage and heartbreak.

I didn't even think.

The words flew out.

"I HATE YOU!"

The room went still.

I barely had time to process before—

His hand swung.

Fast. Hard. Sharp.

The slap echoed.

The sting burned.

I gasped, my head snapping to the side, eyes wide in shock.

The room was silent.

Until—

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

My mother's voice cut through the air like a knife.

I turned, blinking through my tears, and saw her standing in the doorway, her face twisted in anger.

She wasn't alone.

More guards. More witnesses.

My father barely even looked at her as he started ranting.

"This little girl has disrespected me, disrespected this family's name—"

"Did you hit her?" Mommy cut him off, her voice sharp.

He scoffed. "It wasn't even hard."

I saw it.

The way her expression changed.

She walked up to me, her movements gentle, slow—nothing like my father's. She reached out, placing her warm hand on my cheek, right where he hit me.

I leaned into her touch, my body shaking.

And then she pulled me into a tight hug.

A real hug.

A safe hug.

Her voice was softer when she spoke, but firm.

"Leave."

My father tensed. "Excuse me?"

She turned to face him, her arms still wrapped around me.

"I said leave."

Mommy's arms were still around me, warm and steady, but I couldn't stop shaking.

My whole body felt out of control—hot and cold all at once, my chest rising and falling too fast.

I couldn't catch my breath.

I couldn't stop crying.

Mommy rubbed my back, her voice low and soothing.

"Baby, breathe. Just breathe, okay?"

I tried, I really did, but the second I opened my mouth—

Everything spilled out.

"I didn't mean to—" I gasped, shaking my head, words tumbling over each other. "I know Daddy's mad, I know I should've been more careful, but I just—I couldn't help it. I love her. I love her so much, and it just happened, and I didn't think it would get this bad, but—"

I hiccupped, gripping onto Mommy's dress like I was a little girl again.

She didn't rush me.

She didn't tell me to stop crying.

She just held me, her hands gentle as she smoothed them over my hair.

"Slow down, baby," she said softly. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath.

Then I started from the beginning.

How it wasn't supposed to be like this.

How Ren was just my bodyguard at first, just another person assigned to keep me safe.

How I didn't even like her at first because she was too serious, too controlled, too unreadable.

How that all changed when I got to know her.

How she made me feel safe in a way I never had before.

I told her about the little things.

The way Ren always noticed when I was anxious before I even realized it myself.

The way she never pressured me but always made me feel wanted.

The way she kissed me like she was claiming me, like she didn't care about the cameras or the world or what would happen after.

And then I told her about the blog posts.

About the way everyone found out.

About the way I knew, deep down, that this would blow up in my face.

That Daddy would react exactly like this.

And still—

I couldn't stop myself from falling for her.

I couldn't stop loving her.

By the time I finished, my voice was hoarse, broken. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, my whole body exhausted.

Mommy didn't say anything for a long time.

She just sighed, long and deep, like she was processing everything.

Then she tilted my face up, brushing her thumb over my cheek, her eyes soft.

"Baby..." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "You know this isn't your fault, right?"

I bit my lip. "But I—"

"No." She shook her head, firm but gentle. "You didn't do anything wrong. You fell in love. That's not a crime."

I swallowed hard, my vision blurry with more tears.

"Then why does it feel like it is?" I whispered.

She sighed again, pulling me into another hug, squeezing tight.

I didn't know the answer.

And neither did she.

I sniffled, my body still trembling as I wiped my face, trying to catch my breath.

"What's gonna happen to Ren?" My voice came out small, barely above a whisper.

Mommy sighed, her hands resting on my shoulders, her eyes filled with something I couldn't read.

She hesitated.

I could tell she didn't want to tell me.

I could tell she wanted to soften it, to make it less painful, but I needed the truth.

"Mommy." My voice cracked. "Just tell me."

She exhaled slowly, pulling me closer, her arms warm but heavy, like she was trying to shield me from the weight of her next words.

"Honestly, baby... I don't know."

My stomach dropped.

My heart started pounding in my ears, my hands curling into fists as I shook my head.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I choked out.

Mommy hesitated again, like she was trying to find a way to soften the blow.

"Your father is angry," she said finally, carefully. "And when he's angry, he makes rash decisions. If she put her hands on him, baby, they might arrest her."

The second the words left her mouth, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Arrested?

Like... actually arrested?

Like gone?

Like I'd never see her again?

I shook my head violently, tears spilling out faster.

"No. No, no, no, he can't—" My voice broke completely, my hands gripping Mommy's arms as I started sobbing again. "He can't do that, Mommy, please—please don't let him—"

She hugged me tighter, rocking me gently, rubbing my back, whispering that it was okay—but it wasn't.

It wasn't okay at all.

My chest ached, my breath came out ragged, painful.

The last thing I saw—

The last thing Ren did before they dragged her away—

Was mouth the words "I love you."

And now she was gone.

Now she might be locked away somewhere, alone, hurting, scared—

Because of me.

Because of us.

I sobbed harder, clutching onto Mommy like she could somehow fix this.

Like she could bring Ren back.

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

I sat in the cold-ass metal chair, back straight, face blank, staring at the two cops in front of me like they were speaking another language.

My wrists were cuffed to the table, the metal biting into my skin, but I didn't flinch. I'd been in worse situations.

Didn't mean I wasn't pissed, though.

"Look," the older one sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table. "You put your hands on a very powerful man, Ms. Allen. If Mr. Hill decides to press charges, you're looking at serious time."

I kept my expression blank, my face still. I wasn't about to give these motherfuckers the satisfaction of seeing me sweat.

The younger cop—rookie, definitely—sighed like he was frustrated. "You're not taking this seriously."

I just blinked at him.

"We're talking aggravated assault, resisting, maybe even attempted manslaughter if they wanna push it," the older one continued. "They'll ship you back home to Louisiana, process your case there."

The older cop's patience finally snapped. He slammed his fist down on the table, making the metal rattle under my cuffed wrists.

"You think this is funny?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the stale air of the interrogation room. "You could be doing real time, Serenity. This ain't some little scuffle in the streets. You put your hands on one of the most powerful men in the country."

I barely blinked.

I let the silence stretch out, let them sit in it, let them think they were getting to me. Then—

I cracked a smile.

A slow grin spreading across my face as I tilted my head and met his eyes. "When I'm goin' home?"

Both of them looked at me like I'd lost my damn mind.

The younger one shook his head. "Home?" He scoffed. "You're not going anywhere until you're processed."

The older cop sat back, folding his arms like he was waiting for me to break. Like he thought this was gonna scare me. "Once that's done, we'll be sending you back to Louisiana."

I exhaled slow, nodding like I was really thinking it over. Then I shrugged. "Aight, well...don't take too long."

I leaned back in my chair, real comfortable, stretching my legs out in front of me like this was just another day.

Because at the end of the day, I already knew the deal.

I'd been in situations like this before. I knew the system.

They were trying to get under my skin. Trying to rattle me, make me crack, make me beg for some kind of mercy.

But I wasn't built like that.

What happened, happened. I ain't regret it. I'd do it again.

Because nobody—nobody—talks to Yanna like that.

I just had to ride this out.

And when I got out?

I was coming back for her.

Once I got back home, I knew I wouldn't be in for long.

And I knew exactly why.

My dad's people would make sure of it. They'd pull the strings, grease the right palms, whisper the right words in the right ears. The system didn't work the same for people like me—for people with names that carried weight.

And my father's name? That shit still rang out.

Before he died, he ran Louisiana.

People used to whisper his name in backrooms and alleyways, afraid it would summon him like some kind of ghost. Siren. That was what they called him. And if you heard that name in the streets, you knew to move the fuck out the way.

It didn't matter what part of the city you were in—the drugs, the guns, the robberies, even the protection rackets—somehow, it all led back to him.

He had cops on his payroll, judges in his pocket, business owners shaking in their boots. Even the politicians weren't untouchable. He made people disappear like it was nothing.

I used to think he was unstoppable.

And so did he.

That was his problem.

He got too comfortable. Too reckless. Started thinking he was invincible.

And that's what got him killed.

I still remember the night they found his body. The news reports said it was a robbery gone wrong, but I knew better. Everybody knew better. You don't go from running an entire city to getting taken out over some pocket change.

It was a message.

Somebody had been waiting for the right moment to knock him off the board, and when they finally saw their chance, they took it.

And just like that, Siren was gone.

But his legacy wasn't.

Because even in death, my father's name still had power. And his people? The ones that were still standing?

They would never let me rot in some jail cell.

Still, getting out didn't mean shit if I had nothing to my name.

I was supposed to have money—a lot of it. When I turned eighteen, there was supposed to be an account waiting for me, stacked with everything he left behind. But when I tried to access it?

That shit was gone.

All of it.

And I didn't have to guess where it went.

My mama had burned through it before I even had a chance to touch a dime.

Exotic drugs, gambling, tricking off on random men—she did everything but take care of her own damn kid. By the time I was old enough to get my hands on it, she had already drained the whole account dry, leaving me with nothing.

Not a safety net. Not a way out. Not a fucking choice.

Siren's name still ran strong, even without the money. His reputation alone was worth more than whatever fortune he left behind. It carried weight. It opened doors. It made people listen.

So much so that by the time I was fourteen, I couldn't even go by my real name anymore.

Serenity.

That name was too dangerous, too recognizable. The moment people heard it, their eyes would widen, their expressions would shift, and suddenly, I wasn't just some kid trying to mind my business—I was his daughter.

And that came with expectations. With enemies. With people watching too closely, waiting to see if I'd turn out like him.

So I started going by Ren instead. Short, simple, unassuming. A name that let me move without turning too many heads.

Didn't matter, though. The people who needed to know? They always knew.

I sighed and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. My body was exhausted, my mind even worse, but I couldn't rest. Not yet. Not until I had her.

Yanna.

I tried to picture her safe. Tried to imagine her with me, where she was supposed to be. Away from all the bullshit, away from the people trying to keep us apart.

And I knew I was going to make it a reality.

One way or another.

I've always been told I'm a crazy lover. The kind that don't know how to love in pieces, the kind that don't do halfway. The kind that would burn the whole damn world down if it meant keeping the person I love safe.

And they were right.

I've never been the type to let shit slide when it came to mine. Never been the type to sit back and hope for the best. If I love you, I love you with my whole chest. And if you're mine, then you're mine.

Ain't no in-between. Ain't no gray area.

So when I say I'd go crazy to protect and be with who I love?

I mean that shit.

And Yanna was going to see that.