Soren's POV

The sound of my fists slamming into the punching bag echoed in the gym, each hit fueled by raw anger. “Calm down,” Jace said, his voice cutting through the air. I ignored him. My knuckles burned as I pounded the bag harder, picturing Joshua’s smug face on it.

I wanted to be on the next flight to Chicago, but I couldn’t. I’d been ruthlessly interrogated about my stepmother’s murder after police found my watch at the crime scene. My watch. How the hell did it end up ...