The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 178

Chapter 96-3

“When Willow showed up” I continue softly, “for a brief, stupid second, I thought… maybe that’s what this is. Maybe I finally get a sister. Someone to share the weight of this family with.”

I drop my head, letting out a rough, bitter breath. “And then she turned out to be a head case. She didn’t want a sister. She wanted to erase me, to take my life.”

“Listen to me,” Jade says. “Willow is a broken creature and I don’t think it’s even her fault. It sounds like her mother wasn’t supportive of her daughter, and who knows what happened in Willow’s head, growing up not knowing her father.”

She cocks her head at me, her long ponytail falling over her shoulder.

“You didn’t lose a sister when Willow turned on us,” Jade says, her voice trembling. “Because you’ve had one standing right beside you for years.”

I stare at her, my breath catching in my throat.

“Who held your hair back when you were drunk that first time?” Jade asks softly, a small, watery smile breaking across her lips. “Who threatened to slice off a prospect’s fingers because he smacked your ass without your consent? Who taught you to do wing-tipped eyeliner?”

A sob breaks through my lips, half-laughter, half-tears, as I wipe at my eyes. “You did.”

“Damn right I did,” Jade says fiercely. “Sisterhood isn’t about sharing DNA, Zara. It’s about who shows up when the world is burning down around you. Cobra and Mayhem protected you from shit when you were young, but now? Now you’ve got me, and you are my sister. Do you hear me?”

The quiet, profound truth of her words settles deep into my chest, driving out the lingering ghosts of Willow’s betrayal.

“I hear you,” I whisper, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Jade. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jade mutters into my hair, squeezing me hard before pulling back with a sharp, familiar sniffle. “Now stop making me cry. I spent twenty minutes on this mascara and if Mayhem comes back to a blotchy wife, he’s going to know that I was worried about his stupid ass.”

A loud, genuine laugh erupts from my chest, clearing the heavy tension from the air.

We sit back against the cushions together, wrapped in the warm throw blanket, our hands joined beneath the fabric. The clock on the mantle ticks steadily over to four o’clock in the morning. The darkest hour

before dawn.

Outside, the sleet slowly eases into a cold winter drizzle that taps against the windows like fingertips. We don’t speak for a long time, held in a quiet, peaceful solidarity.

My mind still wanders to Route 9 – to Locke crouching in the damp woods, to my father watching the perimeter, to my brother holding his breath in the dark – but the terrifying panic in my belly has settled into a quiet, steady resolve.

At four-twelve am, the security tablet on the coffee table suddenly vibrates.

Chapter 96-8-

Jade and I both freeze instantly, our eyes snapping to the glowing screen.

Claim

Grid two- the underground parking garage – flashes red for half a second as the secondary override protocol engages. The two Grinning Skulls prospects downstairs stand up from their armchairs in tandem, their hands dropping to their belts as they look toward the private elevator vestibule in the lobby.

Then, through the quiet floorboards beneath our feet, a low, heavy mechanical hum begins to vibrate.

It’s the deep, familiar rumble of the private penthouse elevator gears engaging far below in the subterranean garage.

The brass indicator light above the foyer frame flickers to life, illuminating the dark hallway with a warm, golden glow as the numbers begin their slow, steady climb upward.

B1… G… 1… 2…3

Jade drops the throw blanket, her hands balling into fists as she stands up beside me. I push off the couch, my heart hammering against my ribs like a war drum, every muscle in my body pulled taut as steel.

24…25…26…27…28

We stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the middle of the living room, our eyes fixed entirely on the foyer archway, waiting for the doors to slide open at the 30th floor, waiting to see who’s coming home.

And maybe who isn’t.

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