It’s been a few days since Isobel came back to me. She’s mine again, emotionally and physically. She’s my fucking princess, that’s what I decided.

The problem is, the cops have gained on us. They know that I killed Theo. They most likely had some help from the Governor and from Isobel’s father.

Now, they swarm our Montague fortress every single day, looking for me. It’s getting harder to deny the fact that this war is in full swing.

I watch Isobel intently every day. She’s made her self well at home here in my penthouse—and that should make me happy, but I’m becoming increasingly worried about her safety.

There are guards everywhere and people buzzing in and out, trying to form a plan as to what we can do. But I can’t help but just watch her.

Today, she’s wearing a simple black dress.

It’s a slip dress. She always wears those. It shows off her curves perfectly.

Plus, she’s taken to wearing these thigh-high boots that drive me absolutely insane. I fucked her once when she was wearing them and nothing else.

It was the hottest experience I’ve ever had.

I’ve made her promise to keep the dagger I gave her with her at all times. She always keeps it hidden in those sexy boots for protection, as she should.

I hate that things have to be this way, but what else am I supposed to do?

I need my baby to have the ability to protect herself.

Lately, Isobel’s words about running away are seeming more like the solution I need. I’m not sure we can stay in the city any longer, not with the cops and all of the Governor’s villains looking for us. Plus, the Capulets will never stop until they see me dead.

I drink espresso at my desk in my office that’s really a library lined with books and stare out the window, wondering about what we’re gonna do.

Someone knocks on the door, interrupting my thought process.

“Come in,” I say.

Merc walks in, and he doesn’t look happy. I know he’s been all over this situation from the beginning. He’s my eyes and ears on the ground because he can go out of the building; he’s not wanted for murder like I am.

“Hey man, what’s up?” I say.

“Tristan, the news isn’t good. The cops are swarming the building. The Governor is behind it. He’s backing them and paying everybody more money to bring you down. Word on the street is that he’s not gonna back down until he has you in a casket. He’s pissed that you stole his bride.”

I did more than steal her. I claimed her, and now, she’s mine.

I sigh with annoyance. The Governor’s really starting to piss me off.

“Yeah well, it’s what we can expect, right?”

Merc pauses, trying to find the right words before speaking.

“It’s more than that, Tristan. The heat is coming down on us bad. The Capulets and the Governor have joined forces, and they’re gonna bring you in at some point. We have to prepare for that. They could raid the building even as early as today. I think you’ve got to get out of here. And I think you should take Isobel with you.”

I look at him. I’ve been half expecting this, but I was hoping we had more time.

Merc continues. “Tristan, the thing is, Benny and I have been working on a plan. And we think we might have the perfect solution. There’s this priest, Father Laurence, and he’s approached us with a solution. I think you should at least meet with him before you leave town. He’s down at the cathedral, waiting for you and Isobel.”

“A priest?” I say.

“I don’t know how trustworthy he is, Tristan. But he’s contacted us and said that he thinks he has a solution for you guys. At this point, I know that you need to get out of the building—today. So we might as well go there first and see what he has to say before leaving the city. He’s gotta be harmless. He’s a fucking priest after all. We’ll sweep the area first.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll tell Isobel to get ready.”

Her bag is already packed, and so is mine. I’ve known that we would have to escape the building at some point. We do have houses all over the world.

Escape should be easy. It’s just a matter of getting out of the city. And it’s a matter of shutting this thing down.

I don’t need the Capulets looking for Isobel. I need her to be free of their clutches forever. And so I pull on my suit jacket and get up, getting ready to make our move.

Isobel’s waiting for me.

“Is it time, Tristan?”

I pull her into my arms. “It is. Hopefully, this’ll all be over soon.”

Escaping the building will be easy. We built a secret tunnel underneath this skyscraper a long time ago for instances such as these.

No one knows about it. We don’t even tell our bodyguards, just in case they’re spying on us. It’s a well-guarded Montague secret.

Merc and Benny come with us as I lead Isobel down through the tunnel. We come out at a far alleyway a couple blocks down, away from the cops and their prying eyes.

We get into the waiting limousine to go to the cathedral.

“What are we doing here, Tristan?” Isobel says.

“Apparently, this priest has a plan or something. I figured it was worth stopping by to see what he has to say. We have to make sure that your family doesn’t follow us, Isobel.”

I take her hand and lead her inside.

The place is huge and darkly-lit. There are candles at the altar and darkly-stained wooden pews. Sitting in the first row is the priest.

He turns around to greet us.

Merc and Benny check the place to make sure it’s safe.

I recognize this priest—Father Lawrence. He’s been my family’s priest for generations. Isobel appears to know him too.

“Father Lawrence?” she says to him.

He comes to greet us, “Hello, Isobel, Tristan. Thanks for coming. Now, let me take you to my back room where we can discuss things further.”

He leads us to a room behind the altar.

Once we’re inside, he whispers to us in hushed tones, “I know your predicament. And I know your love. And I think I have a solution for both of you.”

“Go on,” I say.

“Tristan, Isobel, you know that I’m familiar with both of your families. Isobel, I baptized you, after all. And I just want this dreadful war to end. I think the Capulet and the Montagues need to come together and put this thing to rest for good. That’s why I’ve been thinking about your situation. And I thought of a way to help you out.”

“Let me guess—you want money for this little plan,” I say to him.

“No, not at all. My intentions are pure, Tristan. I just want to help you.”

“How?” Isobel says.

“Well,” he goes on. “It’s a complicated plan. But if you hear me out, I think you might agree that it’s the best way.”

Isobel and I both look at each other, not knowing what to expect.

What could this old priest possibly have to contribute to our lives?

He presents a vial of green liquid that’s in a little glass bottle with a tiny cork on it.

“This is my solution. Isobel will drink it. It will induce a sleep-like death. Everyone will think that she’s committed suicide. We’ll have the show of a funeral. As far as the Capulets and the Montagues know, Isobel will be dead, overburdened by the despair of this war.”

I tighten my hold on Isobel’s hand. Thinking of her being dead for even a second makes my stomach twist in uncomfortable knots.

But still, we let the priest go on.

“And then, she’ll awaken. And Tristan will be right here with me, and I can marry you two in secret, saving you from the Governor and keeping Isobel free from being forced to testify against Tristan in court, should the need arises. If you’re married, you can’t testify against each other.”

I look at Isobel, and she looks at me. I know we’re both thinking the same thing.

This is a crazy plan. But, at the same time, it might work. If everyone thinks that Isobel’s dead, if they see her unmoving body for themselves, the Capulets might back off from ever trying to find her again.

It could mean her freedom.

“I know it’s a long shot, Tristan, but it’s the only way she’ll be safe, and the only way that you two can be together safely.”

She holds out her hand, and the priest gives her the vial.

She looks at me and shows it to me.

I don’t know what to do. I want to escape the city with Isobel and forget this whole thing.

But I know in my heart that wherever we escape to, they’ll find us.

The Capulets will never rest until their princess is back in their hands.

“Tristan?” she says, looking up at me. “What do you think? It just might work. Maybe faking my death is the way out of this thing.”

“Yeah maybe, but I think we need to talk about it more, Isobel.”

Just as I say these words, the unexpected happens. There’s a commotion outside, and then someone busts down the door. It’s the police—I’ve been found.

We’re surrounded.

Someone must’ve snitched.

I hold Isobel’s hand tightly, but the cops drag me away.

The second I’m not holding her any longer, I realize how much of a mistake this was. We never should’ve stopped by the cathedral. I should’ve just gotten out of the city with her, like I wanted to.

There are tears in her eyes as they take me away. There are too many cops for me to shoot my way out of this one.

Isobel starts to cry, and I feel horrible that I’ve let her down.

I vow to get out of this somehow, someway.