Dangerous. The word hung in the air between us like a bad omen. My mind flashed back to Nathaniel’s cold threats, the way his eyes burned with unspoken secrets.
"And you think you’re the expert on him now?" I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended.
Lucas's jaw clenched, his fingers raking through his dark hair. "Yes, because I’ve seen what he does to people who get in his way. And I won’t stand by while he drags you into whatever twisted game he’s playing."
"What twisted game?" I challenged, leaning forward. "You’re talking in riddles, Lucas. If you’ve got something to say, just say it."
He exhaled heavily, his gaze flicking toward the window as if gauging who might be listening. Then, he pulled out a crumpled envelope from his jacket and slid it across the table.
"This," he said simply.
My hand hovered over it for a second, my pulse quickening. The envelope was thick, its contents lumpy and disorganized. Something about it felt ominous, like Pandora’s box waiting to unleash chaos.
"Go on," Lucas urged. "Open it."
Against my better judgment, I did. Photographs spilled out onto the table—grainy, candid shots of Nathaniel in the kind of places he had no business being. Dark alleys, dingy warehouses, shadowy figures exchanging something in the background.
"What the hell is this?" I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away.
Lucas tapped one of the photos with a calloused finger. "That’s him at a Blackthorn drop. Do you know what that means?"
My blood ran cold. Blackthorn. The name was like poison. Everyone in the city had heard of their underhanded deals and ruthless tactics. If Nathaniel was involved with them, it wasn’t just business—it was something far more sinister.
"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "You’re lying."
"Am I?" Lucas challenged, his voice hard. "Look at them again. Look closely."
My stomach churned as I picked up another photo. This one showed Nathaniel talking to a man whose face was partially obscured by shadows, but the insignia on his jacket was unmistakable—a black thorn encased in a crimson circle.
"I don’t understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why would he—"
"Because he’s not who you think he is," Lucas cut in, his tone scathing. "He’s not your savior, Tiffany. He’s the reason your family fell apart."
My head snapped up, his words like a slap across my face. "What are you talking about?"