The cage was too small for air.I sat pressed against the cold iron bars, her knees drawn up to her chest, my arms locked tightly around them as though that fragile hold was the only thing keeping me together. My breath fogged in the stale, damp air, the sound far too loud in the suffocating silence.I had lost count of how many hours had passed since Dennis left her here. Days maybe, though the darkness of the room twisted time into something shapeless. Hunger dulled my stomach into a slow, angry ache. My body was weak, my mind restless, and still, my heart never stopped hammering in fear. Not for myself, but for Damon. For Ruby. For Alice. For everyone else who had trusted me enough to fight by my side.Now, knowing the truth, how could I even face them again?My father’s sins shadowed me like chains. Every memory Dennis unearthed had cut deeper than the bars that confined me. The story of her father, the criminal, the killer, the man whose actions had destroyed lives, whose betraya
The week blurred past in a haze of exhaustion, bruises, and a steady thrum of fear I refused to let control me. Training filled every waking hour as I did hand-to-hand combat with Damon until my arms shook, target practice with Silas under his sharp, unblinking eye, tactical drills with Ruby barking instructions sharper than any blade. It all felt easier with them around me. I went to bed sore, woke up sorer, and did it all again. My body was beginning to feel like it belonged to someone else but it was someone harder and built for what was coming.But no amount of conditioning could erase the knot in my stomach. It sat there like a stone, heavy and immovable, whispering the same reminder every time I tried to sleep: this might be the last week I’d ever see.Everyone had their own way of coping. Ruby worked like a woman possessed, her rage turned into pure fuel, her strikes vicious enough to leave men twice her size stumbling back. Silas was quieter, focused, almost reverent in his pr
The blast rolled through the hideout like an answering roar. It was dull, distant, then searing. My ribs felt the shockwave before my ears registered the sound: concrete whining, metal groaning, the frantic chorus of alarms. Someone shouted a name, and it echoed down the corridor: “Charge! Get out—"Panic turned the room into a hive of motion. Agents scattered, vaulting over crates, radios snarling with static. I ran because running felt like not being left behind. The scent of cordite and dust stung my nose. For a moment everything moved in a jagged slow-motion: Abel shouting orders, Damon barreling to a doorway, Halstrom’s face carved in a hard line as he barked commands that meant nothing to the rising terror. Everything was in pure chaos by morning. Alice was still missing and we had no leads.Then the call came. A video ping, then Halstrom’s tablet flared to life. The screen showed a pale, small face swallowed by a camera angle no one would mistake for staged. It was Alice. Her
I slid my fingers across the cold steel of a new handgun and felt, absurdly, like a kid again. The thrill sparking in the chest at the sight of something new and deadly. The clang of crates hitting the floor echoed through the hideout like music. One lid was pried open, revealing rows of gleaming rifles nestled in black foam; another crate revealed sleek, sharp knifed that were lined up like teeth. For a moment the tension that had been suffocating us all lifted. Agents crowded around, their hushed voices buzzing with relief and even, dare I say, hope.Weapons meant strength. They also meant survival. It was a clear sign that Dennis would have to bleed before he ever got the better of us again.I couldn’t help smiling as I ran a thumb over the polished slide of a pistol. I’d been using the same piece for months; it was reliable, scarred with constant use. But this was new and exciting. It honestly felt like a promise, a silent vow that we could fight back or die trying.“Looks like Ch
The hospital smelled softer this time, like fresh sheets and lavender air freshener instead of chemicals and blood. My mother sat propped against the pillows, sunlight from the tall window spilling across her face. She looked better, stronger than when I’d first seen her awake, though her eyes still held that fragile shine, like a piece of glass that could crack at the wrong touch.I pulled my chair closer to her bed, our fingers brushing as I adjusted her blanket. For a long moment, I just stared. I hadn’t had this,her, in years. Not like this.“You’re staring,” she teased, her voice light but raspy.“Just making sure you’re really here,” I said quietly.Her smile softened. “I’m not going anywhere.”I wanted to believe that. I wanted to anchor myself in her presence, to forget about Dennis, Phantom, the flash drives and betrayals. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone’s daughter again.We talked about little things at first, the nurses, the way hospital food still ha
The hospital smelled faintly of disinfectant and sterile linen, but beneath it lingered a darker heaviness I couldn’t shake. Damon’s hospital room was tucked deep inside the private wing of the facility he owned, a floor cut off from wandering eyes, hushed to the point that every sound felt magnified. The steady, artificial beeping of the heart monitor was the only sign that he was still tethered to life.I sat in the chair beside him, fingers clenched around the armrest so tightly that my knuckles ached. The sight of him hooked up to wires, his chest rising shallowly, was unbearable. His skin was too pale, his lips cracked, and every now and then a tremor ran through him like his body was still fighting invisible battles.The toxin. Dennis’s people hadn’t just wanted him captured, they had wanted him destroyed from the inside. Some elite operative had managed to cut Damon deep with a blade laced in poison, one meant to eat away at him long after the fight was over. I had seen tough m