Maya materialized between them like a ghost with perfect timing.

"It's okay," she said, calm and quiet, the eye of the hurricane. "I know Maddie's a bitch. I'm not offended."

Absolute silence.

You could hear the floodlights humming.

Then Maddie exploded into laughter, clutching her stomach like she'd been shot with joy.

"Oh my GOD." She wheezed, tears forming. "I love her. Did you hear that? Zero hesitation. Just—" Maddie did a perfect deadpan shrug "—'Maddie's a bitch.' Straight for the jugular. Iconic."

"I didn't mean it as a—"

"No, no, own it!" Maddie slung an arm around Maya's shoulders like they'd been ride-or-die since kindergarten. "That was chef's kiss. See, Sierra? This is why people are fun. They say the quiet part out loud instead of seething about it like you do every time I breathe—"

"I don't seethe," Sierra said flatly. "I know."

"Exactly! Progress!"

Sierra opened her mouth for the killing blow—

Her phone rang.

The sound hit like a gunshot.

Everything froze. The bickering. The tactical sweep. The low murmur of mercenaries pretending not to eavesdrop. All three of them turned into statues.

Sierra looked at the screen.

Phei's Samsung number.

Her brain short-circuited.

His other phone. The new one. The one she'd left sitting on the coffee table because he'd said he was just going out for a quick meeting and would be right back.

He was calling her.

From his own phone.

Which meant he was at the penthouse.

Which means—

She answered before the second ring, hands shaking so badly the phone nearly took flight.

"Phei?"

"Hey, beautiful." His voice—warm, lazy, confused, alive. "Where are you? I got back and the place is empty. Your shoes are still by the door—which is weird because you worship those heels—and my Samsung's blowing up with missed calls from random numbers. Everything okay?"

Sierra couldn't breathe.

Couldn't process.

The boy she'd been convinced was dead. Beaten. Bleeding in a ditch somewhere. Sold to organ harvesters or whatever the fuck her panic brain had conjured. That boy was calling her, sounding like he'd just gotten back from getting milk, asking where SHE was.

"Sierra? Babe? You there?"

A sound escaped her—half sob, half war cry.

"I—you—I thought—"

"Okay, crying is... not ideal—"

Maya moved like a sniper.

The phone was out of Sierra's hand before she could react, pressed to Maya's ear, the speaker button activated with the efficiency of someone who'd done this before.

"Phei." Maya's voice was steady. Professional. Completely at odds with the girl who'd baked war-crime cookies three days ago. "This is Maya. Are you hurt?"

Beat of silence.

"...Maya?"

"Yes."

"My Maya Scarlett? My silver-hair Maya? My cookie-disaster Maya?"

His.

He said his.

Maya's heart performed an Olympic-level somersault, slammed into her ribs, and then tried to climb out her throat. Ownership in that casual, possessive drawl—like she was a favorite hoodie he'd misplaced and just found in the laundry.

Her cheeks went nuclear.

Thank God for floodlights and the general chaos; no one could see her turning the color of a stop sign.

"I'd prefer we skip the cookie slander, but yes."

"What—how—why are you with Sierra? Where the hell are you guys right now?"

"Construction site. Behind the academy." Maya's jaw was clenched so tight it could've cracked walnuts. "We thought something happened to you. Sierra saw texts from Brett's number telling you to meet here. You've been unreachable for four hours."

"The construction—wait, WHAT?"

"I'M HERE TOO!" Maddie physically bulldozed her way into the huddle, shoulder-checking both girls to shove her face toward the speaker. "The whole gang's assembled! It's girls' night, baby—just swap the rosé for raw panic and the charcuterie for crippling trauma!"

"Maddie?!"

"Hi, Phei! Quick question: dead or alive? Because I paused my self-care routine for this, and if you're just late to your own date, I'm billing you for emotional damages."

Longer pause this time.

Then Phei laughed—that low, warm, genuine laugh that should be illegal in at least three states, spilling out of the speaker like sunlight after a storm.

"Let me get this straight." He was fighting not to lose it completely. "Sierra, Maya, and Maddie? All three of you? Together? At a construction site? Looking for me?"

"Like the Three Musketeers," Maddie confirmed proudly. "Except significantly hotter, twice as unhinged, and armed with oat-milk lattes instead of swords."

"This is insane."

"YOU'RE insane! We thought you were KIDNAPPED!"

"By who?!"

"I DON'T KNOW, PHEI, THAT'S WHY WE'RE STANDING IN THE KIDNAPPING LOCATION!"

"This sounds like the setup for a foursome."

The words dropped into the cold night air like a live grenade.

Sierra choked on nothing.

Maya's face did something complicated—eyes widening, then narrowing, then resolutely staring at a random excavator like it had personally offended her.

Maddie's entire expression lit up like she'd just been handed a winning lottery ticket and a free pass to chaos.

"Oh my GOD. OH MY GOD." She seized the phone with both hands, cradling it to her cheek like a sacred relic. "You absolute genius. A foursome! Why did no one say this sooner? The three of us, you, that ridiculous sunken pool you definitely have because you're obscenely rich now—"

"Maddie—" Sierra hissed.

"How about tonight?" Maddie steamrolled on, undeterred. "I'm free. I'm always free for orgies. It's basically my cardinal talent."

"Your one talent is ORGIES?"

"Don't kink-shame me, Phei, it's unbecoming on you."

Phei, wherever he was, was still laughing—breathless, delighted, the sound of someone who'd just realized the universe had handed him comedy gold on a silver platter.

"You know what, Maddie? I respect the hustle."

"SEE? He respects the hustle!"

"PHEI!" Sierra finally wrestled the phone back, clutching it like it was the only tether to sanity. "This isn't FUNNY! I thought you were DEAD! I've been calling for HOURS and you didn't answer and Brett's number was blowing up your Samsung and the texts said meet here and you WEREN'T HERE and I thought—I thought—"

Her voice splintered.

All the terror, the gruesome mental footage, the four-hour spiral into worst-case scenarios—it crashed over her at once. Anger evaporated. Left behind was just bone-deep fear and the sudden, dizzying relief that made her knees wobble.

"Hey." Phei's voice dropped instantly, soft and steady, all teasing gone. "Hey, Sierra. Breathe for me. I'm okay. I'm right here."

"You weren't answering—"

"I lost my phone. The old one. Fell out of my pocket somewhere and I didn't notice until I was already done with—" He stopped himself. "—something else I had to handle. Couldn't call you. Couldn't call anyone."

"But the texts from Brett—"

"I don't know what happened there. The meeting got cancelled almost right after I left. He texted on my now lost phone, to say forget it, but apparently you called, sorry, by then my phone was already gone."

"So, you weren't—"

"I wasn't kidnapped. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't doing anything dramatic." A tiny pause, almost sheepish. "Well. Maybe a little dramatic. But nothing you need to worry about."

"What does that even MEAN—"

"It means I'll explain everything when you get back. Okay? I promise. Just—come home. I miss you."

Sierra closed her eyes.

Inhaled gravel-scented night air.

Exhaled four hours of pure dread.

"You're really, okay?"

"Really okay. Cross my heart."

"You don't have a heart," she muttered, voice thick. "You have a black void where emotions should be."

He chuckled softly. "Yeah, but it's a black void that's currently very fond of you something that feels things when you're involved. Now get your pretty, traumatized ass home before I come drag all three of you back myself."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.