CHAPTER 20

The room was cold on purpose.

Concrete walls. One overhead light. A metal table bolted to the floor. No windows. No comfort. Kael didn’t believe in soft environments when he wanted the truth. Comfort made people lie better.

Vera sat with her hands free, but she didn’t relax. She never did. Her spine was straight, chin lifted just enough to look defiant without being stupid. Lina was seated a few feet away, guarded by Aaron, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes sharp, amused in that dangerous way he always had when something interested him.

Kael stood opposite Vera.

Not pacing. Not looming.

Just standing.

That was worse.

“You’re calm,” he said at last.

Vera didn’t answer.

Kael tilted his head slightly. “That wasn’t a question.”

She met his eyes. “So is that an observation or an accusation?”

Aaron huffed a quiet laugh. Kael didn’t look at him.

Vera’s pulse stayed steady. Kael noticed.

He always noticed. Fear had patterns. Panic was loud. Trained people were quiet.

“You were kidnapped,” Kael said. “Held. Moved. Threatened. And yet you sit like this is an interview you prepared for.”

Vera shrugged. “Maybe I don’t panic easily.”

“Lie,” Aaron said casually.

Kael raised a finger without turning. Aaron went silent immediately.

Vera’s jaw tightened. Kael caught it.

“You flinch when someone moves too fast behind you,” Kael continued. “You scan exits without looking obvious. You sleep light. You don’t cry. You don’t beg. You don’t ask questions you should be asking.”

He leaned forward, palms flat on the table.

“That’s not natural.”

Silence stretched.

Lina shifted. “Vera—”

Kael’s gaze snapped to her. “Not you.”

Lina froze.

Kael returned to Vera. “Who trained you?”

Vera laughed softly, almost genuinely. “That’s a funny question.”

“Answer it.”

She didn’t.

Kael straightened and circled the table slowly. Not threatening. Measured. Controlled.

"My men ran your name through every system I own,” he said. “School records. Medical. Borders. Digital footprints. You barely exist.”

Vera’s eyes flickered for half a second.

Enough.

“You don’t have a past,” Kael continued.

“You have gaps. Clean ones. Deliberate ones.”

He stopped behind her.

Vera didn’t turn.

“I don’t like gaps.”

She inhaled. Slow. Controlled. “Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

Kael bent slightly, his voice lower now, closer to her ear. “Maybe you’re standing in the wrong room pretending you still have leverage.”

Her shoulders tensed.

Aaron straightened, interest sharpening.

“Why were they after you?” Kael asked.

Vera exhaled. “I don’t know.”

“That’s your second lie.”

She turned then, eyes flashing. “You think I’d sit through being beaten and dragged and not know why if I did?”

Kael smiled faintly. Not kind. “I think you were taught not to ask questions you couldn’t survive the answers to.”

That landed.

Vera’s fingers curled against the chair.

“Blind spots,” she muttered.

Kael stilled. “Say that again.”

She hesitated. Just a fraction too long.

“Say it,” he repeated.

Vera swallowed. “You don’t look at the things that hurt you if you want to stay alive.”

The room went quiet.

Aaron’s teasing expression faded.

Kael straightened fully now. “Who told you that?”

Vera shook her head. “No one.”

“Wrong.”

She closed her eyes for a brief second. When she opened them, something raw slipped through before she could lock it back down.

“I grew up learning what not to see,” she said. “What not to react to. What not to remember.”

Kael studied her like a weapon he hadn’t decided whether to use or destroy.

“Military?” he asked.

“No.

“Agency?”

“No.”

“Crime?”

Her lips twitched. “Closer.”

Kael nodded slowly. “Go on.”

She laughed bitterly. “I can’t. Because I don’t actually know who was in charge. That’s the funny part.”

Aaron frowned. “What does that mean?”

Kael lifted a hand. Aaron shut up.

Vera continued, voice steady but hollow.

“You grow up learning rules without names. Commands without faces. Punishment without explanation.”

Kael felt something tighten in his chest. Not sympathy. Recognition.

“They trained me to survive situations,” she said. “Not lives.”

Lina’s eyes filled with tears. “Vera…”

Kael finally looked at Lina. “You were collateral.”

Lina stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“They didn’t take you for you,” Kael said.

“They took you to reach her.”

Vera’s head snapped up. “No.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head violently. “No, Lina was—”

“A pressure point,” Kael finished. “Which means whoever is moving against you either knows you well… or trained you.”

Vera went very still.

Kael leaned closer again. “And that’s why you scare me.”

Her laugh was breathless. “You? Scared?”

“I don’t trust things I can’t trace.”

Silence.

Then Vera spoke, softer now. “I didn’t know they were still watching.”

Kael’s eyes darkened. “They?”

She looked away.

That was enough.

Kael stepped back. Decision made.

“Take them upstairs,” he ordered.

Lina blinked. “Upstairs?”

“A real room,” Kael said. “Clean. Warm. Guarded.”

Aaron raised a brow. “Both of them?”

Kael’s gaze cut to him. “Vera stays across from my room.

Vera stiffened. “Why?”

Kael looked at her like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Because if you’re a threat, I want you close.”

“And if I’m not?”

He smiled slowly. “Then you’re still mine to protect.”

Her breath caught.

He turned away before she could respond.

As the guards moved them, Vera looked back once.

Kael was watching her.

Not like prey.

Like a locked door he intended to open—

even if he had to break it.