Desired by All and He Threw Away 129

Taylor POV 

My phone, face down on the kitchen counter, became a live thing, buzzing and shuddering like it was trying to crawl away. The sound was a physical invasion, scratching at the raw edges of my nerves. 

Aiden’s phone lit up a second later, a cold blue flash in the dim morning light. He didn’t even look at it. His gaze was locked on me, his expression hardening into something impenetrable. The calm from earlier was gone, burned away by a sudden, focused intensity. 

“Don’t touch it,” he said, his voice a low command. 

But I already knew. The air in the room had changed, thickening with a sickening dread. I could feel it in the hollow pit of my stomach. Dylan’s move. 

“Aiden…” 

“Get your bag. The small one. Now.” He was already moving, snatching up his keys and a plain black cap from a hook. “We’re leaving.” 

“Leaving? I can’t just run- 

“} 

“We’re not running.” He stopped in front of me, his hands coming down on my shoulders, heavy and grounding. “We’re stepping out of the line of fire. Right now, this apartment is a target. You are a target. I’m getting you somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe.” 

His eyes were dark, unreadable, but the pressure of his fingers told me everything. This wasn’t a debate. 

“My family-” 

“Are not the ones being torn apart online right now.” The words were blunt, almost cruel in their truth. “I need you focused. I need you with me. Not scattered, trying to put out fires from every direction.” His thumb brushed my collarbone, a fleeting, softer touch. “Please, Taylor. Trust me.” 

Trust me. After everything. After Ruby, after the trap, after the world thinking the worst. I looked at him, at the stark lines of worry around his mouth, and the fight drained out of me, replaced by a cold, weary understanding. He was right. I was a liability here. 

I gave a sharp nod. 

Five minutes. That’s all it took. He had a go–bag ready by the door–cash, a burner phone, simple clothes. He threw a hoodie at me. “Put this on. Pull the hood up.” 

We didn’t take the elevator. He led me down three flights of emergency stairs, his hand a firm guide at the small of my back. The air in the stairwell was cold and smelled of concrete. Our footsteps echoed, too loud in the silence. 

A car waited in the underground parking, not his usual sleek SUV but something older, nondescript. He opened the passenger door for me, his eyes scanning the shadows before he slid into the driver’s seat. 

The engine turned over with a quiet purr. He didn’t speak as we navigated out of the city, his focus absolute. The world outside the tinted windows blurred into a stream of meaningless color and light. My phone, now silenced 

1/3 

Chapter 129 

+25 Bonus 

and buried in the bottom of my bag, felt like a live grenade. 

We drove for nearly an hour, the cityscape giving way to winding roads and dense trees. He finally turned onto a gravel driveway almost hidden by overgrowth, leading to a modern, secluded cabin made of dark wood and glass. It looked like a place that didn’t exist. 

He used a keycode on the door. It swung open to reveal a single, open–plan room. It was stark. Beautiful, in a cold, minimalist way. All clean lines, a massive stone fireplace, floor–to–ceiling windows looking out into a private wall of forest. It smelled of pine and disuse. 

The moment the door shut behind us, locking out the world, the last thread of my control snapped. 

The silence was absolute. And in that silence, every vicious headline, every imagined sneer, every ugly accusation came rushing in. They weren’t just attacking a story; they were attacking the foundation of who I was. They took my struggle—the sleepless nights, the empty fridge, the sheer, grinding will it took to keep my siblings from falling apart—and twisted it into something shameful. Something criminal. 

Spy. 

The word echoed in the hollow space of the cabin. A laugh, choked and hysterical, bubbled in my throat. It died instantly, replaced by a sob I couldn’t swallow. 

I didn’t make it to a chair. My legs gave out, and I sank to the cool wooden floor, my back against a heavy leather sofa. I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to make myself small, trying to hold the pieces together. 

“It’s true,” I heard myself say, the voice, ragged. “The Velocity job. I took it. It was six months of hell, but the money… it covered Ruby’s orthodontist. It covered a month of groceries when Dad’s check vanished.” I pressed my forehead to my knees, the shame a hot, suffocating wave. “I didn’t steal anything. I didn’t look at anything. But I was there. In his competitor’s building. Because I was desperate. And now… now that desperation is a weapon he gets to use against you.” I squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking out anyway. “I’m so sorry, Aiden. I’m so, so sorry I dragged you into my mess. 

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