Page 23 of Reverie

“Winthrope, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Morris pauses a beat. “Blair knew what she was getting into when she went to Amelia Manor. But, you know, it was personal to her,” he says.

It must have been personal. Personal because of Winter.

“She wanted to play, so she was the one who dragged yourmistakeout. She knew that your whore wouldn’t be able to resist saving him.”

And fuck him for being right. As soon as Winter found that August was gone, she put herself in total danger to save him. She’s protective of August because she loves him like her own.

And while every part of me needed Winter to stay in the safe room, I understand why she didn’t.

Yet another thing to apologize to her for.

“I figured I’d give you some time. Let you see what’s at stake. I thought finding your father would help you see the bigger picture.”

The bigger picture. Those words echo in my memory.

Winthrope releases a dark chuckle.

“You’re as hard-headed as he’d warned me you’d be.” He exhales audibly. “That rebellious streak might get you killed if you’re not careful.”

I stare at the phone, still not uttering a word. He knows I’m hearing everything he’s saying. And I know he assumes that I’ll follow whatever order he gives me.

Just like I always followed my father’s orders—until I ran away. Until I met Winter.

“You have twenty-four hours to release Ella Brigham to me.” The tenor of his voice shifts and the menace in it is unmistakable.

But in the silence, I harness all the rage within me. Rage at this current situation. Rage at my mother. My father. All the fucked-up shit that’s happened to me.

And I harness the love I have for my sister. For my family that includes her, August, Leo, and Winter. Hell, even Veronica and Summer, even though Veronica seems more than happy to see me roasting on a spit by the balls right now.

The fact is, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my family.

“Fuck you and fuck your demands, Winthrope,” I say, my voice calm.

Misha closes his eyes against my declaration. My mother’s face lights up, her cheeks turning rosy.

Winthrope doesn’t respond. Instead, the line goes dead.

Leo shifts in his seat, opening his mouth to say something, but Luna holds a hand out, silencing him. Leo’s face turns grave.

“Well,” Max says. “That was comforting.”

Returning to his seat, Misha says, “We’re going to give them your sister.”

The pressure behind my eyes grows as one second bleeds into the next.

Because what the fuck is he even saying right now?

I look at Amelia, acknowledging her in full for the first time in this conversation.

“You want to give Ella to these people?” My voice is low.

Her face hardens, and I get a flash of the defiance she showed my father as she faced her “death” on that damn veranda on Isla Cara. She swings her head toward Misha.

“Absolutely not,” she grinds out.

“Think about it. We’ve been running around with our heads up our assholes for the better part of two years trying to find The Architect. Now we’ve got an opportunity to place a high-value plant in The Legion’s midst. We know they won’t hurt her—she means too much to them.”