The fire at the Beckett estate was a roaring, monstrous thing, but I broke past the barricades and ran straight into the blistering heat. Through the choking black smoke, ignoring the fresh burns searing my skin, I searched frantically for Beckett. Then, his voice crackled from somewhere outside the burning mansion. "Cass, Amber's mother’s keepsake is on the desk in my bedroom. Get it out of there." Through the dancing sheets of flame licking the windows, I saw Beckett. He had his arm wrapped tightly around Amber, his other hand holding a megaphone. "I know you can hear me!" "Bring my pillow out, too. Otherwise, Amber won't be able to sleep tonight." Amber's soft, whimpering cry floated in, grating against my raw, blistering soul as the fire closed in around me. "Is... is that too hard for Cass? The fire looks so big..." "Don't worry," Beckett's voice boomed back. "Cass is the best bodyguard money can buy. Why do you think I tricked her into going in there?" "She'll get your things and walk out completely unscathed. It's child's play for her." I wanted to tell Beckett that before I even got here, an unmarked car had rammed into me, leaving me with a broken leg and two fractured ribs. I wasn't walking out of this one. But my throat was scorched, choked with ash. I couldn't tell him that just this morning, I had heard our baby's heartbeat for the first time. Thump-thump, thump-thump. It sounded just like the horse hooves racing across the Montana plains when we were kids. … By the time Beckett's voice echoed through the megaphone, I was already clawing my way across the floor. Flames rose like tidal waves around me. Plaster and burning wood rained down from the ceiling, and just dragging myself up to the second floor had stripped away every last ounce of my strength. "Cass, hurry up! If Amber's things get burned, don't bother coming back home." The smoke stung my eyes, drawing out a prick of moisture that evaporated the second it touched my burning skin. We had fought yesterday. A terrible, exhausting fight. Today, I had gone alone to the orphanage to visit Zoe. An unmarked car had lost control, careening toward her. To shield her, I took the hit. The impact shattered my leg and cracked two of my ribs. Mrs. Albright had tried to rush me to the emergency room, but then the call came: the family estate was on fire, and Beckett was trapped inside. Blinded by pain, I drove like a madwoman, praying to whatever god was listening, offering my life in exchange for his safety. He was safe. He was completely fine. But was I really about to die? "Beck, Cass has never liked me," Amber’s tear-strained voice wailed through the speaker. "She won't help me. But that's my mother’s keepsake. I can’t lose it." That trembling, helpless sob of hers was always her ultimate weapon. Beckett had told me more than once. "Cass, can't you be more like Amber? Call me 'Beck' with a little warmth for once." I had always snapped at him, telling him to go to hell. But in secret, I had stood before the mirror and practiced whispering his name a thousand times. Too bad I would never get to say it to his face. "Don't worry," Beckett's voice boomed back. "Cass always does what I say. I'm the only family she has left. She wouldn't dare make me angry." "It's all my fault. I just wanted to cook you dinner, but I started the fire. And now Cass is caught up in it..." "It's not your fault, sweetheart. That's literally her job. She's a bodyguard. Here, drink some water. Calm your nerves." Their voices drifted in through the broken window, crackling and distorted through the megaphone. I couldn't afford the luxury of heartbreak. Water. I needed water infinitely more than Amber did. Steeling myself against the excruciating grind of broken bone against muscle, I dragged myself into Beckett's master bathroom. Ignoring the bloody blisters bursting across my palms, I grabbed a towel and cranked the faucet. If I could just wet it and cover my face, I might survive long enough for the firefighters to reach me. Drip. One single, pathetic drop fell from the spout. The pipes were dry; it didn't even dampen the lint on the towel. I gasped for air, a crushing wave of despair hitting me. It was so unfair. Beckett didn't even know our baby was back. "Connect the hoses to the emergency reservoir! Put the fire out! Hurry!" That was Mr. Garrison, the estate manager. A tiny flicker of hope flared in my chest. If the hoses could knock down the flames blocking the doors and windows, I might survive this, even if I was horribly burned. "No! You can't!" Amber's high-pitched scream cut through the din. "You can't use water, Beck! My mother's keepsake is a carved bone pendant—it has her ashes inside! If the water ruins it, I'll have nothing left of her. Please!" "If her ashes get soaked, she'll be gone forever. I'm begging you!" Those final pleading words seemed to echo in my ears, dripping with theatrical desperation. I felt a bitter surge of self-derision. I had never learned how to play the fragile, pleading victim. Maybe that was why I was destined to burn. And predictably, Beckett yielded. "Shh, don't cry. We'll let Cass bring your mother's ashes out first, then we'll put the fire out. Okay?" "No one touches the hoses!" "Mr. Beckett..." Mr. Garrison tried to protest, but Beckett shut him down instantly. "Remember who you work for, Garrison. This estate is my personal property. If I want to let it burn for fun, that's my right. It has nothing to do with you." The usually deferential manager's voice shook with sudden, uncharacteristic rage. "But Cass is still trapped inside! Are a dead woman's ashes really worth more than a living person's life?" "Mr. Beckett, I remember when the two of you actually cared about each other." The heat was blistering my flesh, and the internal agony of my fractured ribs made my vision blur. Mr. Garrison had asked the very question that was haunting my dying mind. We used to love each other so fiercely. How did we end up here? "My relationship with Cass is none of your business." "Amber has already lost her mother, Garrison. Have some basic decency. Tell your men to back off with the hoses." Maybe the searing heat had dried up the very moisture in my body, because my eyes burned fiercely, yet not a single tear would fall. Losing a mother was devastating. But my own Mama was gone, too. Mama and I used to live in the Montana foothills, living a quiet, peaceful life on our small ranch. That was until the day she found a seven-year-old Beckett wandering near the mountains and brought him home. Back then, Beckett was traumatized. He wouldn't speak, wouldn't eat. It was Mama's quiet warmth that brought him back to life. In my oldest memories, Beckett used to call her "Ma" right alongside me. We had one beautiful, happy year. Wanting us to understand the world beyond our valley, Mama bought an old TV and set up a satellite dish. But the very night the screen flickered to life with news broadcasts of the missing Beckett heir, he panicked and rode off into the dark on his colt. Mama went after him. She found him, but she never came back. She was cornered by a pack of timber wolves in the valley. Her death drew the media, and ultimately, she paid with her life to pave Beckett's way back to his wealthy family. And I was left with nothing. No home, no Ma. Beckett was right when he said he was my only family after she died. But now, it seemed he didn't want me anymore. "Cass, stop playing games and get out here!" Beckett's voice crackled through the megaphone again, sharper and more annoyed. "Because of your stubbornness, people are giving Amber a hard time!" The megaphone magnified his irritation, making it sound deafeningly cruel. Suddenly, the floor beneath me groaned. The structure shuddered, followed by a violent, thunderous collapse. Half of the estate caved in. I curled into a tight ball, clinging to survival in the surviving half of the master suite. Beckett's voice was cut off, buried under the rumble of falling beams. Silence stretched. It felt like an eternity before the distant, wailing sirens of fire trucks finally pierced the smoke. I bit down hard on the inside of my lip, tasting copper. If there was any way out, I wanted to live. I had only just heard our baby's heartbeat. It was so beautiful, echoing like the rhythmic thud of horses galloping across the Montana grass. The collapse had kicked up fresh waves of embers and blinding ash. I began the agonizing crawl toward the window. The firefighters would know to breach the windows first. That was my only chance. "All units, listen up! Team One, attack the main fire. Team Two, search and rescue breach. Team Three, set up defensive lines!" My entire body was trembling. Every inch I dragged myself left a smudged trail of dark red on the floorboards. The blistered, blackened skin on my knees and stomach tore open, leaving me a bloody mess. I hadn't shed a single tear, but outside, Amber had already started crying again. "Beck, please! I only want my mother's ashes! They're going to use the water hoses—what do we do? What do we do?" Her tears were her ultimate shield, and they never failed. "Who called the station? Who said we needed your help?" Beckett's voice rang out again. The warmth I had known for years was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, commanding arrogance that sounded like a death knell. "Sir, it's our duty to respond to active fires. You have no authority to obstruct us." "Officer, let's be clear. That brand-new ladder truck your team is using was donated entirely by the Beckett Group. How it's used, and when it's used, is up to me." Having run the Beckett empire for years, he carried himself with an immense, suffocating authority. "We have reports of a civilian trapped inside. Human life comes before property, sir." "Cass? She's tough as nails. Trust me, the world could end, and she’d still be standing." "Two years ago, during that avalanche in the Rockies, she gave me her winter gear and carried me on her back for three straight days. You think a woman like that needs a rescue from a bunch of amateurs?" I finally reached the window. Hope was just inches away, but the moment my hand touched the frame, my heart sank. The window had been boarded up from the outside with heavy steel plates. Ignoring the agony in my hands, I pounded desperately against the metal, praying the sound would carry through. But the reinforced steel was airtight, sealing off my only exit. Suddenly, a blazing piece of the roof collapsed, striking me squarely across my spine. I coughed up a spray of dark blood, and a sharp, tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. During the avalanche Beckett had just mentioned, when I dragged him out of the snow, I hadn't realized I was pregnant with our first child. By the time I got him to the hospital, that baby was already gone, buried forever in the freezing mountain pass. And now, my second baby was going to die right here, consumed by flames. My vision faded into absolute darkness, and a low, heavy buzzing filled my ears. I knew the end was here. But if I burned to ash, Mama wouldn't be able to recognize me when we met again. I refused to become a charred, unrecognizable monster. Even in death, I wanted to hold onto some dignity. I turned and dragged myself toward the corner of the room. It was only about fifteen feet away, but it felt like a journey of a hundred years. At least the one thing I had bought for Beckett would allow me to leave this world with a shred of grace. Beckett, this is the last time we play hide-and-seek. I hope you never find me. "The heat in there is high enough to melt stone! How could anyone possibly survive that?" Mr. Garrison's angry voice echoed from outside. "Sir, based on our assessment, the person inside has likely perished. Please step aside and let us do our job." Beckett turned back to look at the partially collapsed mansion. For the very first time, a flicker of genuine panic crossed his face. But before he could speak, Amber gasped dramatically. "Are you saying Cass might be dead? Oh my god... I—I have to go save her!" Before Beckett could stop her, she spun around and took two clumsy steps toward the smoke, immediately tripping over her own feet and tumbling to the grass. "Amber! Are you alright?" Terrified, Beckett scooped her into his arms. "I think I sprained my ankle... I'm so stupid, I can't do anything right..." Without another word, Beckett lifted Amber off the ground. "I'm taking you to the hospital." She whimpered, but he shushed her gently. "Don't worry. Cass will bring your mother's keepsake out. And if she doesn't, I'll make her get on her knees and beg for your forgiveness." I was afraid Beckett was going to be disappointed. My feet were already hovering inches above the ground, weightless. My knees were stiff, and I would never kneel for anyone again. Beckett drove Amber straight to the hospital. Throughout the drive, he kept one hand on the steering wheel while his other fingers remained tightly laced with Amber's. Just a few weeks ago, while we were watching a movie at home, I had tried to hold his hand like that. He had pulled away. "Cass, your hands are completely calloused. Look at yourself. Is there a single feminine thing about you?" Ever since that night, I had slathered my hands in Vaseline before going to sleep, hoping to soften them. They had finally gotten softer and lighter. But now, they were charred black and melted out of shape. Beckett would probably find them even more repulsive now. But it didn't matter. I had hidden myself well. He wouldn't have to look at them. At the hospital, Beckett applied the soothing ointment to Amber's ankle himself, cradling her leg as if she were made of the finest, most delicate porcelain. "Beck, if Cass got burned in the fire... would you worry about her? Would you take care of her like this?" "She wouldn't let herself get hurt." I wasn't sure if he meant I was too tough to get hurt, or if he simply wouldn't care enough to tend to me. But there was a time when he had held me like I was his entire world. It was right after I finished my training. My very first assignment as his personal bodyguard was accompanying him to inspect a newly acquired commercial property. Some local thugs had shown up, looking to intimidate the young heir. I fought off a dozen grown men with my bare fists, taking a heavy wooden club directly across my back to shield him. When we got home, Beckett had sat me down, applying the medicine with hands that trembled with concern. "Cass, I regret letting you train with those fighters. I hate seeing you hurt." I had smiled through the pain to comfort him. "I like being strong enough to keep you safe." He had wrapped his arms around me then, holding me so tightly it felt like he wanted to fuse my soul into his own bones. Amber's ankle was barely a minor sprain—just a tiny scrape—but Beckett insisted she stay overnight for observation anyway. "Beck, do you dislike Cass because she's so... intense?" Beckett toyed with the TV remote in the VIP suite, his expression aloof. "Of course. Who wants to come home to a warrior? Men like a little princess. Someone soft, like you." So, he thought I was too harsh. But in the fighting gyms, if you weren't fierce, you got broken. Everyone else had years of martial arts training; I started from absolute scratch. If I wasn't ruthless, I lost. If I lost, I didn't eat. If I didn't master every strike, I couldn't protect him. I could never forget the day Beckett returned to the city, only to discover his parents had been killed in a brutal corporate betrayal orchestrated by his own uncles. He had wept in my arms. "Cass, I have no one left. My parents are gone. Ma is gone. My grandfather is too old. There's no one to protect me." His tears had burned my skin. That was the day I dropped out of school, packed my bags for the training camps, and became the relentless shield he needed. Beckett accidentally clicked a button, and the television screen flared to life. A local news broadcast flashed on, showing live footage of the smoking ruins of the Beckett estate. "...The historic Beckett manor has been devastated by a massive three-alarm fire. Search and rescue crews clearing the debris have reported..." Beckett's thumb rubbed against his forefinger—a nervous habit he only displayed when he was deeply anxious. So, he was capable of fear after all. "...While several priceless antiquities were lost in the blaze, officials have confirmed there are no casualties. No bodies have been recovered from the scene." The tension in Beckett's brow vanished instantly. "I knew it," he murmured. "A little fire could never stop her." He pulled out his phone, opened our chat, and sent a voice note in a relaxed, almost bored tone. "Cass, stop throwin' a tantrum and bring Amber's things to the hospital. Don't push it today. I'm not in the mood." My phone had exploded in the heat hours ago. Obviously, there was no reply. Lacking patience, he called me two minutes later, only to be met with an automated voicemail recording over and over. "Still not answering?" Amber asked, her voice laced with feigned worry. "Do you think something actually happened to her?" I had once promised him that as long as I breathed, I would never let him lose track of me. Beckett's face darkened, but he glanced back at the news anchor on the screen and shook his head. "No. Not her." He said the words, but the muscles in his shoulders slowly locked up. Suddenly, his phone blared with an incoming call. "Cass, have you had your fun yet?" he barked into the receiver without even checking the caller ID. "You arrogant brat! I don't give a damn about the house burning down, but if you don't bring my granddaughter-in-law to the family dinner next week, I'll personally break both your legs!" It was the Beckett patriarch. Hearing his booming, gruff voice made my eyes ache with phantom tears. He had always loved me, wanting to officially welcome me into the family years ago. But I had refused, knowing that once I became his fiancée, I could no longer stand by his side as his protector. But this year, now that Beckett had secured full control of the corporation, I had finally promised his grandfather that I would attend the fall gala as his partner. "Is that your grandfather?" Amber asked, pretending to be clueless. "Yeah. He wants to see his future granddaughter-in-law." "Oh... I'm not even ready yet," Amber murmured, blushing and looking down. She was too busy acting bashful to notice Beckett's fingers flying across his screen, typing out a message to my number. Cass, be good. Bring the pendant here. If you keep acting out like this, I’m taking Amber to the family dinner instead. He knew how much I had looked forward to this evening. I had even ordered a custom gown for it. Now, he was threatening to replace me. For the first time, I felt a quiet wave of relief that I was dead. It saved me from having to feel that heartbreak. A soft knock rattled the hospital door. Mrs. Albright stood in the doorway, holding little Zoe's small hand. "Beckett," Zoe piped up, her voice small and trembling. "Cass got hit by a car. Is the baby okay?" Beckett froze. "What car? What baby are you talking about?" Mrs. Albright looked at the hospital bed, her face falling when she realized I wasn't the one lying there. "Mr. Beckett, Cass took the impact of an out-of-control vehicle to save Zoe. She had a shattered leg and two broken ribs. I was trying to bring her to the emergency room, but she got a call about the fire and insisted on leaving." "I couldn't reach her afterward, so I brought Zoe here hoping to find her." Beckett’s hand jerked, knocking his water glass off the nightstand. It shattered against the tile floor. "She... she ran into that fire with a broken leg and fractured ribs?" His chest heaved as he turned his eyes slowly back to the television screen. The news broadcast was showing footage of the items the firefighters had managed to salvage from the wreckage. A scorched vase, a blackened dining table, and then, a badly warped household appliance. Beckett's pupils dilated. Without a word, he bolted out the door. I couldn't help but smile bitterly. Was he finally going to find me? But I had lost this game. And Beckett wasn't going to win either.
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