Chapter Three: Escape and Discovery(2)

The black monitor blinked out like an eyelid closing.

For a second, there was nothing but the mechanical buzz of the security hub and the faint metallic scent of the room.

Then a shadow moved in the corridor outside—quick, deliberate, purposeful.

“Hide,” Dominic hissed.

Lila didn’t think. She ducked behind the nearest bank of consoles, clutching Eli to her chest and muffling his small, frightened whimpers. Dominic’s presence pressed behind her like heat as he moved past. His hand brushed her hair as he went—a fleeting contact that shot straight through her nerves.

Footsteps approached. Heavy. Surgical. Metal scraped.

The door handle rattled, then slammed open with a scream of steel.

A figure stepped into the room: tall, wrapped in dark tactical clothing, the hood low, a surgical mask concealing everything but cold, pale eyes. He didn’t rush. He paused, cataloging the room as if it were conducting a threat assessment.

Dominic moved before Lila saw him move, a quiet shift of shadow between her and danger, voice low and steady.

“Leave. Now.”

The intruder tilted his head, studying Dominic like a puzzle.

His voice came out flat, trained, unplaceable.

“You’ve been busy.”

Lila felt something clamp around her ribs.

Dominic’s arm shifted subtly, guiding her deeper into cover, tucking Eli closer against her as if he were bracing both of them behind him.

“We’re leaving,” Dominic said, tone deceptively calm. “You don’t want more trouble.”

A faint, humorless smile touched the intruder’s mask.

“Trouble found you the moment you touched the boy.”

Ice crawled down Lila’s spine.

The man stepped further inside. The door hissed shut behind him, sealing them in.

“You have something we need,” he said. “Bring the woman. Leave the boy.”

Leave the boy.

Lila’s vision blurred, hot and violent. She held Eli so tight he whimpered.

Dominic’s jaw flexed. For a heartbeat, she thought he might kill the intruder right there.

Instead, Dominic lunged, grabbing the man’s wrist, twisting, forcing him toward the console.

The intruder countered instantly, an elbow to Dominic’s ribs, brutal and efficient. Dominic grunted, breath sharp, but didn’t let go.

The world shrank to struggle, boots scraping, gasps of breath, a curse swallowed.

Lila’s palms went slick. Eli burrowed deeper into her neck, unaware that their world had ruptured.

Dominic’s grip slipped. The intruder tore free, spinning. His hand went to his belt.

Lila saw the glint of metal.

Her heart seized. She lunged, reaching for Dominic to pull him down.

A hand caught her wrist and yanked her back into the shadows.

“No!” she breathed.

The intruder’s gun rose.

A moment of crystalline stillness cracked across the room, the distant rain hammering the tower, the hum of electrics, Eli’s soft breath, Dominic’s steady inhale, and then, a scent.

It cut through the ozone and panic, cheap hotel soap, and jasmine. The same jasmine she’d once tucked behind her ear on the night Dominic had forgotten.

Dominic’s pupils blew wide.

The world tilted.

Memory ripped through him like glass:

A dimly lit room, warm amber light.

A sheet tangled around two bodies.

Her silhouette curled toward him.

Her laughter was soft and breathless.

A tiny newborn cry.

A hand brushing a small, impossibly small cheek.

A whispered name, Eli.

A note on a pillow: Forget me.

Dominic staggered as if the memory hit him physically.

His mouth opened; a distorted sound escaped, thin and broken:

“Li…la”

The intruder fired.

The shot cracked through the room, violent and wrong.

Heat grazed the side of Dominic’s head.

He blinked, surprised and dazed, then went rigid. His knees buckled. He swayed for a heartbeat, eyes gone glassy.

And collapsed across the consoles with a brutal thud.

“No!”

Lila lunged, everything else forgotten: the gun, the intruder, the alarms.

She threw herself over Dominic, dragging him back, curling around him as if her body alone could shield him. Eli woke in her arms, crying sharply and terrified.

The intruder approached with chilling efficiency.

He kicked Dominic’s side, checking for a response.

“He’s out,” he said into a throat mic. “Sedated or unconscious. Begin.”

Lila’s voice cracked open.

“You can’t take him,” she gasped. “You can’t”

“Orders,” the man replied.

He crouched, pulling a small vial and syringe from his sleeve.

Lila froze, helpless, watching as he drew up the clear liquid.

He didn’t hesitate.

He shoved the needle into Dominic’s neck. Dominic’s body jerked once, a sharp inhale, then went limp.

“Please…” Lila’s voice broke. “Please don’t”

The intruder’s eyes flicked to her, detached, clinical.

“You’ll be safer if you cooperate. The woman must be brought in. The boy stays.”

Before the meaning could settle, another presence shifted behind her. Someone she hadn’t heard enter.

A cold, metallic shape pressed to the back of her skull.

A woman’s voice whispered, low and urgent:

“Move. Now.”

The intruder froze at the sound.

“Secure them,” the woman snapped. “Upload everything. Wipe the feed.”

Someone began cutting power to the room.

The monitors died one by one, fading into static gray.

The last thing Lila saw before darkness swept the room was the intruder’s pale eyes watching her, calculating, and a name badge clipped inside his jacket; letters blurred just enough to hide the truth.

She pressed her face into Dominic’s shoulder, tasting copper, machine oil, and a faint ghost of jasmine.

Her hands trembled, but she didn’t let go.