The call came at 3 AM on a Tuesday, shattering the fragile peace they'd built.
Ryder answered his phone with the reflexes of someone who'd spent years on high alert. His expression shifted from sleepy contentment to cold alertness in seconds. Isla sat up, instantly awake, recognizing danger in his body language.
'When?' he asked, voice clipped. 'How many? ... I'll be there in twenty.' He ended the call, already moving, pulling on clothes with military efficiency.
'What's wrong?' Isla wrapped the sheet around herself, heart hammering.
'Adrian's lawyer filed an emergency appeal. Claims police brutality, illegal detention, compromised evidence.' Ryder's jaw was tight as he holstered his weapon. 'The judge granted a hearing. There's a chance—a small one—he could get bail pending trial.'
The floor tilted beneath her. 'Bail? After he killed federal agents? After he escaped custody?'
'His legal team is claiming the escape was coerced, that he was fleeing for his life from corrupt agents. That the deaths were self-defense.' Ryder pulled on his jacket. 'It's bullshit, but they're building a narrative. Your father wants me at the hearing. Someone needs to testify about the stalking, the threats, the danger you faced.'
'I'm coming with you.' She was already reaching for clothes.
'Isla—'
'He's my cousin. My stalker. I'm testifying too.' Her voice left no room for argument. 'I won't hide while he tries to manipulate the legal system. I'm facing him.'
Ryder studied her for a long moment, then nodded. 'Together, then. But stay close to me. Adrian's family has resources. They might try something.'
The courthouse was a circus. Media vans lined the streets, cameras tracking every arrival. Malcolm Thornton swept in surrounded by lawyers, his expression carved from granite. Adrian's mother—Isla's aunt Caroline—stood on the opposite side with her own legal battalion, her face a mask of aristocratic disdain.
'This is your fault,' Caroline hissed as Isla passed. 'You seduced him. Led him on. Drove him to madness with your games.'
Isla stopped cold. 'I did nothing except exist. Your son is a stalker and a murderer. The only person responsible for his actions is him.'
'He loved you! He was protecting you from—' Caroline's eyes cut to Ryder with venom. 'From mercenaries taking advantage. Using you for money.'
'That's enough.' Malcolm's voice cracked like a whip. 'Caroline, I suggest you save your theories for your son's defense. They won't help his case, and they sure as hell won't earn you any sympathy.'
Inside the courtroom, Adrian sat at the defense table looking nothing like the violent, obsessed man who'd hunted Isla. His lawyers had dressed him in an expensive suit, styled his hair, coached him into appearing vulnerable rather than dangerous. He smiled when he saw Isla—soft, sad, heartbreaking if you didn't know what lurked beneath.
'He's acting,' Ryder murmured, his hand finding hers beneath the table. 'Don't let the performance get to you.'
But it did. Because this was the Adrian she remembered—charming, gentle, family. The monster and the mask were so convincingly separated that doubt crept in despite everything she knew. Had she imagined the obsession? Misunderstood his intentions?
Then Adrian's eyes met hers across the courtroom, and the mask slipped. Just for a second. But long enough for her to see the possessive hunger, the barely contained violence, the absolute certainty that she belonged to him.
She squeezed Ryder's hand, grounding herself. No. She hadn't imagined anything. This was real.
The hearing began. Adrian's lawyers painted a picture of a devoted cousin driven to desperate measures by legitimate fears for Isla's safety. They produced character witnesses—friends, colleagues, charitable organizations he'd supported. They showed photos of Adrian and Isla throughout their lives—birthday parties, family gatherings, graduations. Evidence of affection twisted into evidence of innocence.
'He loved his cousin as family loves,' the defense attorney argued. 'And when he believed she was in danger from opportunistic security personnel, he acted rashly. Yes. Illegally, even. But not from obsession. From misguided protection.'
Then it was the prosecution's turn. They showed the surveillance equipment. The photographs cataloging Isla's every movement. The threatening texts. The kidnapping attempt at the gala. The home invasion. The bodies of federal agents Adrian had killed with his bare hands.
'This isn't love,' the prosecutor stated flatly. 'This is possession. Obsession. A dangerous fixation that escalated to violence. Mr. Thornton poses an immediate threat to his cousin and anyone protecting her. Bail would be catastrophic.'
Isla was called to testify. Walking to the witness stand felt like wading through quicksand, every eye in the courtroom tracking her movement. She placed her hand on the Bible, swore to tell the truth, and faced Adrian directly.
'Miss Thornton,' the prosecutor began gently. 'Can you describe your relationship with the defendant prior to discovering the surveillance?'
'We were family. Cousins. I trusted him completely. He was at every major event of my life. I never saw him as anything except family.' Her voice was steady despite her racing heart.
'And when did that perception change?'
'When my bodyguard discovered hidden cameras in my bedroom. In my bathroom. When I learned my cousin had been watching me dress, sleep, live my most private moments for months.' She kept her gaze locked on Adrian. 'When he trapped me in my father's office with a gun and claimed I'd always belonged to him.'
'How did that make you feel?'
'Violated. Terrified. Betrayed by someone I loved.' Her voice cracked. 'He wasn't protecting me. He was controlling me. There's a difference.'
Adrian's lawyer cross-examined, trying to shake her testimony, to paint her as confused, manipulated by Ryder, seeking revenge for a misunderstanding. But Isla held firm, recounting every violation, every threat, every moment of fear with clinical precision.
When she stepped down, Ryder squeezed her hand. 'You did perfectly.'
Ryder testified next, his military background lending authority to his account. He detailed the professional-grade surveillance, the calculated stalking patterns, the violent escalation. By the time he finished, Adrian's defense looked flimsy, desperate.
The judge called a recess to review evidence. In the hallway, Malcolm pulled Isla aside. 'You were strong in there. Your mother would be proud.'
The unexpected praise brought tears to her eyes. Her father rarely invoked her mother, rarely showed emotion beyond calculated business strategy. 'Thank you.'
'I should have protected you better. From Adrian, from the security failures, from all of it.' Malcolm's expression was haunted. 'I was so focused on the company, on the empire, I didn't see the threat in my own family.'
'You couldn't have known. Adrian hid it well.' She touched his arm. 'And you came through when it mattered. The sting operation, the backup, everything. You saved my life.'
'Kane saved your life. I just provided resources.' Malcolm's gaze shifted to Ryder, who stood nearby maintaining perimeter security. 'He's good for you. Better than I wanted to admit.'
Before Isla could respond, shouting erupted from the courtroom. They rushed back inside to find chaos. Adrian had collapsed, convulsing, foam at his mouth. Paramedics swarmed. His lawyer screamed about poisoning, conspiracy, murder attempts.
'Everyone back!' A federal marshal cleared the room. 'This is now a crime scene!'
Ryder pulled Isla toward the exit, his body shielding hers. Outside, they watched ambulances screaming away, Adrian loaded on a stretcher, still seizing.
'What just happened?' Isla's voice shook.
'Someone poisoned him. In custody. In a federal courthouse.' Ryder's expression was grim. 'Either he has more allies than we thought, or someone wants him silenced.'
Malcolm's phone rang. He answered, listened, his face draining of color. 'Adrian's in critical condition. They're saying he might not survive. And the preliminary tox screen found something interesting—the same compound used in the chloroform attack at the gala.'
The implications hit like a freight train. 'Someone else was involved. From the beginning.' Isla's mind raced. 'Adrian wasn't working alone.'
'And whoever it is just tried to tie up loose ends.' Ryder's hand moved to his weapon. 'Which means you're still in danger. If Adrian dies, the investigation dies with him. Unless we find his accomplice first.'
CLIFFHANGER: Isla's phone buzzed. Unknown number. She unlocked it with trembling hands. One message, three words that changed everything: 'He failed. I won't.'