The penthouse windows glowed faint with the reflected chaos of a city that had just been throttled. Bridges sealed. Checkpoints bristling. Drones carving lines across the sky. River traffic at a standstill, boats pulled to shore under Varian’s orders. The city breathed under his hand now, every artery clamped.Liora stood by the glass, pale and trembling. “You locked down the entire city?”Varian didn’t look up from the satellite feed spread across his table. His jaw worked, a tic of muscle in his temple. “Not the entire city. Just the parts they can escape through.”“Which is all of it.”He flicked a finger, sending another set of icons red. “Then you understand why I had no choice.”She turned on him, eyes rimmed from smoke and tears. “She’s not a shipment, Varian. You don’t get to blockade a city like you’re choking a vein.”“I get to do whatever it takes,” he said flatly. “Because they touched her.”Ines entered without knocking, her phone in hand. Her heels clicked sharp, impatie
The clinic’s waiting area hummed with its usual low rhythm: the shuffle of papers, the muted ring of phones, and the sigh of patients sitting with their worries. Wren had been coloring quietly at the little children’s table, her head bent, her hand gripping a crayon as if the world depended on filling in every corner.Then the alarm shrieked.Red lights strobed across the ceiling. A siren wailed, jagged and relentless.“Attention. Fire alarm activated. Please evacuate the building immediately,” the intercom blared.Smoke began to curl from the vents—thin, artificial, chemical-scented.Liora jumped to her feet, clutching Wren’s small backpack, eyes wide. “What—”Bram was already moving. “This isn’t a standard drill.” He scanned the exits, his hand drifting near the concealed weapon at his side.Varian didn’t move at all. His gaze flicked once to the smoke, then to the panicked staff lingfunnelling people toward the main exit. His face emptied, the mask snapping down—calm, unreadable, t
Marius Leth’s office always smelt faintly of leather and ink. The walls were lined with books that looked like they’d never been opened, case law stacked to the ceiling in tidy intimidation. Liora sat opposite him, smoothing her palms over her knees, staring at the sheen of his oak desk.“I want to pause the case,” she said.Marius didn’t even blink. He sat back, his dark suit folding neatly, like the man himself had been pressed from starch. “Pause?”“Yes.” Her voice came steady. “Not withdraw. Not close. Just… pause.”He folded his hands. “Liora, custody filings don’t freeze like an unfinished chess game. Once you set pieces on the board, the other side moves.”“I don’t want more moves. Not now.”“And why is that?” His gaze was sharp, clinical.She hesitated. Because he’s been different. Because he carried Wren into the panic room like his body was armor. Because he read her a bedtime story last night without looking at the words.“Because it’s not the right time,” she said instead.
The penthouse, usually humming with ordered precision, felt brittle that night. Guards were rotated twice as often, cameras blinked like restless eyes, and every elevator ride carried suspicion.Ines stood in the kitchen with a tablet clutched to her chest, scanning staff logs. “Three people had the clearance to access the garage feed during the convoy,” she said.Varian leaned against the counter, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, tension cutting the sharp line of his jaw. “Names.”“Marco. Deyna. Tomas.”Liora folded her arms, voice sharp. “You trust them?”Ines hesitated. “I’ve worked with all three for years. They bleed for this house.”“Someone bled us tonight,” Varian cut in, his tone steel. “And I don’t believe in coincidence.”Later, when Wren tugged at Liora’s sleeve and whispered, “Mama, story?” Varian’s gaze flicked over.“Go,” he said quietly. “I’ll handle this.”“No,” Liora replied, jaw tight. “You’re not turning staff into suspects without proof.”He studied her. “Proof
The night smelt of rain and burnt rubber.Liora sat stiff in the backseat, buckled in beside Varian as the convoy peeled out of the hospital garage. Black SUVs fanned around them, lights off, engines low.“Why so quiet?” she whispered.“Because noise gets you noticed,” Varian murmured, eyes on the road ahead. He wasn’t driving—Bram was—but every muscle in his body tracked the terrain as if he were.The comms crackled. “Decoy convoy rolling. North ramp clear.”Liora frowned. “Decoy?”Varian finally looked at her. “One convoy runs loud, takes the heat. One runs silent, takes you home.”Her stomach dropped. “You’re using your own men as bait.”“They volunteered.” His tone was flat, unapologetic.“That doesn’t make it better.”He turned fully then, eyes catching hers in the dim light. “It makes it survivable. For you. For her.”Ten minutes later, the radio hissed.“Contact! East bridge! Two SUVs tailing, gun ports open—”Gunfire cut the report short. Liora flinched, knuckles whitening on
The penthouse walls still hummed with unease. Three staff locked down, cameras rewired, the perimeter doubled – yet it wasn’t enough. Not for Liora.She found Varian in the war room, screens bleeding data across the walls. His fingers traced maps like he was rearranging chess pieces.“Talk to me,” she said.He didn’t look up. “Busy.”“No, Varian.” She stepped closer. “This isn’t a request. Talk to me.”His eyes flicked to her, sharp, impatient. “If this is about Leth, I already—”“It’s about survival,” she cut in. “Ours. Wren’s. Yours. If you won’t cooperate with someone outside these walls, I’ll take her and walk.”The words cracked the air like a whip.Varian stilled. Slowly, he set down the stylus. “You’d what?”“You heard me.” Her hands were trembling, but her voice didn’t waver. “I won’t let Wren grow up with bulletproof glass as her sunlight. You can hate me for it, but I’ll choose her freedom over your fortress.”He rose from the chair, slow and predatory. “Say it again.”Her b