Chapter 25: Rifts

The dawn outside the destroyer’s command cabin was a cold, slate-grey mist, casting a ghostly light over the Pacific. The ocean stretched out like a sheet of hammered lead, reflecting the bruised sky. Six nuclear submarines sat low in the water like prehistoric predators, their radar arrays rotating with a clinical, rhythmic slowness that felt like a physical weight on the chest. Inside the cabin, the air conditioning was set to a frigid temperature, but it couldn't mask the thick atmosphere of blood, gunpowder, and the sharp, briny tang of seawater. Even more suffocating was the silence between the four people present—a silence charged with suppressed breathing and lethal intent.

Ava sat in the primary command chair, her silhouette sharp and regal despite the exhaustion etched into her bones. She was enveloped in Sebastian’s heavy black trench coat, the collar pulled up to its limit to hide the constellation of bruises and the fresh, dark bite mark on her neck—a brand left by Landon that still burned like a fever. She sat with her legs crossed, her bare feet dangling in the air, her toes occasionally twitching as if she were counting down a secret timer. The black silk slip dress beneath the coat was a ruin, held together by sheer willpower and a few tactical pins, but it failed to conceal the purple-and-blue finger marks on her waist—the "war map" left by thirty days in the shark tank.

The three men stood before her, forming a predatory semicircle exactly five paces away. It was a calculated distance—far enough to prevent an immediate outburst, but close enough for the scent of each other's blood and adrenaline to act as a constant provocation.

Landon stood at the center of the arc. The titanium chain still hung from his hand, though no one held his leash at this moment. The end of the chain swayed with the ship’s movement, the blood-stained platinum ring glinting with a mocking, cold light. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a chest covered in jagged scabs—the marks Ava had carved into him with a sharpened shark tooth. The madness in his eyes was pressed down into a glassy, calm surface, but beneath that thin ice, the currents were violent enough to tear a man apart.

Kai leaned against the titanium bulkhead to the left, his tactical gear unzipped to reveal a fresh, angry scar across his chest. He didn't have a cigarette in his hand, but his tongue pushed against his molar as his wolf-like gaze locked onto Ava with an unashamed, naked desire for possession.

Sebastian stood half a step to Ava’s right, his silver-grey eyes never leaving her for a heartbeat. His left hand was a ruin of bloody bandages, but he stood as a wall of solid muscle, his presence a silent promise to catch any bullet intended for her. He reached out, his fingertips ghosting over her nape—right where Landon’s teeth had left their deepest mark. The touch was as light as a feather, yet it hummed with an absolute, uncompromising possessiveness.

Ava raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the three of them. A ghost of a smile touched her lips, only to vanish as quickly as it had appeared.

"The rules are simple," she said. Her voice was low, yet it held a crystalline authority that seemed to freeze the oxygen in the room. "Until tonight, none of you touches me."

Landon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. The chain in his hand gave a soft, metallic ring. He didn't kneel, but his body inclined forward slightly, his voice a low, vibrating rasp colored with a dark amusement. "Little Rose... that wasn't the tune you were singing on the deck just a few minutes ago."

Ava looked down at him, her fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the leather armrest—like the ticking of a bomb.

"What I said on the deck," she whispered, her voice like a sigh through a graveyard, "was a performance designed to make you lower your guns. Surely you understand the utility of a well-timed lie, Landon."

Kai let out a low, rough chuckle, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Smart. I like it. Little beauty, you know we wouldn't have actually opened fire—not on you, at least. You're far too precious to be turned into a corpse."

Sebastian’s eyes darkened into a storm of mercury. He shifted his weight, completely obstructing the line of sight between Ava and the other two predators. His voice was a slab of ice. "Ava is exhausted. Both of you... get out. Now."

Landon straightened up, slowly fastening the top button of his shirt with the poise of a man attending a gala. He looked at Sebastian, his eyes shimmering with a dangerous, mocking delight. "Sebastian, you can play the guardian for an hour. But can you protect her for a lifetime? In this world, the cage only gets larger."

Kai laughed, the sound echoing harshly off the metal walls. "Don't forget, Vance. My submarines have this ship locked in. Those thirty Black Hawks? They're slaved to my remote override. You aren't going anywhere unless I allow it."

Ava’s eyelashes trembled. She reached out and gently pressed her hand over Sebastian’s bandaged one. Her skin was freezing; his was burning with fever and fury. The contact was like ice falling onto a wildfire.

"Sebastian," she murmured, loud enough only for him. "Don't. They're right. We can't run right now."

Sebastian’s breath hitched. He looked down at her, the heartbreak and madness in his eyes enough to shatter glass. He leaned his forehead against hers, his voice thick with a desperate, raw vow. "Ava... I will never let them touch you again. I swear it."

Ava didn't reply. She turned her attention back to Landon and Kai.

"I’m giving you a choice," she said, her voice reclaiming its metallic edge. "From now on, you can continue this game of cages—spying on each other, sabotaging each other, and waiting for the moment one of you slips. Or..."

She paused, her fingers sliding to the satellite phone on the console. She pressed a key, and the screen illuminated with a string of complex, encrypted coordinates.

"Or, you let Sebastian and me leave this vessel. I will give you my word—I won't move a single piece on the board for three months. A ceasefire to let the blood dry."

Landon’s pupils contracted to pinpoints. He stared at the coordinates for three seconds before a jagged, mocking laugh escaped him. It sounded like sandpaper on glass. "Little Rose... do you really think I care about a three-month truce? I’ve waited years. Three months is an insult to my patience."

Kai’s smile vanished. He took a predatory step forward, bracing his hands on the arms of Ava’s chair, boxing her in with his massive frame. The heat of his body rolled off him, smelling of gunpowder and salt.

"Little beauty," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her ear. "You run once, I catch you once. You run ten times, I catch you ten times. I will hunt you across every ocean until you’re crawling back to me, begging for the collar."

Sebastian’s pistol was out in a heartbeat, the muzzle jammed hard against Kai’s temple. His silver-grey eyes were a vortex of lethal intent. "Take one more breath that close to her, and I’ll paint this cabin with your brains."

Landon didn't move. He simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

The heavy doors hissed open. Twenty Marines flooded the cabin, their rifles raised. Ten barrels were pointed at Sebastian’s back; ten were aimed at the door.

The tension in the room reached a breaking point, like a steel wire stretched across an abyss.

Ava closed her eyes.

She knew she had lost this round. It wasn't a lack of will, but a reality of power—she hadn't yet built the empire needed to dismantle Landon’s billions and Kai’s violence simultaneously. But more importantly, she couldn't allow Sebastian to die for her here.

She reached out and gently pushed Sebastian’s gun barrel down.

"Sebastian," she said, her voice a soft, mourning sigh. "Lower the gun."

Sebastian’s hand was shaking. His eyes searched hers, looking for a reason to stay in this nightmare. He looked like a man drowning in his own devotion.

Ava turned her head, looking at Landon and Kai. A true smile finally touched her lips—but it was a smile of bitter, crystalline poison.

"Fine," she said. "You’ve won this move."

She paused, her thumb tracing the inner inscription of the ring on Landon’s chain: To E, forever A.R.

"But remember," she continued, "the larger the cage, the more room I have to sharpen my thorns. One day, you will be the ones begging for a leash. And I will not be as merciful as you were."

Landon stared at her for a long time, a look of profound, dangerous ecstasy in his eyes. He let out a low, satisfied hum. "I’m counting on it, Little Rose."

Kai straightened up, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Then let the real game begin."

Sebastian’s gun finally lowered. He pulled Ava into his chest, shielding her with his body, his silver eyes promising a slow death to the other two. "You will regret this," he snarled. "Both of you."

The room fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic thrum of the ship’s engines. It felt like a countdown to an apocalypse. Ava closed her eyes and leaned against Sebastian’s chest, listening to the frantic, irregular pounding of his heart. She knew this was a defeat, but she also knew that every scar was a lesson.

The thorns of the Black Rose were still growing. And next time, they would strike deeper than the bone.