LOGINAnya's POV The hospital conference room was way too bright, almost blindingly so, and it had this overwhelming scent of fake lemons and dusty old paper that made my stomach do a slow, nauseating flip as I sat there at the long table. It felt less like a piece of furniture and more like a physical barrier between my world and theirs, and as I lookedacross at the three men sitting there, I realized they didn't look like the typical villains you’d see in a movie. They looked like accountants in suits that probably cost more than my car and my apartment combined, which honestly made the whole situation ten times scarier because they weren't here to shout—they were here to calculate."Miss Miller," the lead lawyer began, and I recognized him immediately as Mr. Thorne, the man Ethan Vance sent whenever he needed someone’s life dismantled with a smile. He opened a leather folder with practiced, slow movements and looked at me with eyes that were as flat as a dead screen, saying, "We are he
ANYA’S POVThe hospital didn't smell like the Starlight Facility, because Starlight had always smelled of expensive ozone, bottled lavender, and the kind of expensive lies that rich people tell themselves to feel safe. This place—a high-security wing of Denver Health—smelled of industrial bleach, floor wax, and the sharp, metallic tang of a reality that no one was trying to hide anymore.They wouldn't let me stay in the room for the first four hours while they stabilized him, so I spent that time pacing the cold linoleum of the hallway until my boots squeaked with a rhythmic, maddening persistence that felt like it was drilling into my brain. Through the small, wire-reinforced window of Room 412, I could see the silhouettes of the medical team moving like restless shadows against a white screen, and I realized with a sinking heart that the "North Star" was finally being stripped of its artificial light."He’s stabilized, Anya, but the next forty-eight hours are going to be... ugly," L
ANYA’SThe van smelled like old copper and stale coffee, a cold and metallic box that rattled with every jagged mile Lila put between us and that crumbling motel. I sat on the hard floor and braced my body against the vibrating wheel well, cradling Kai’s head in my lap while the world outside blurred into a dark streak of pines. He was shaking again, the violent heat of his fever finally breaking only to leave him clammy and shivering against the bitter mountain air that whistled through the gaps in the door."How much further, Lila?" I called out, my voice sounding like a dry rasp that barely carried over the mechanical scream of the engine."There’s a cabin about twenty miles up the pass," Lila shouted back without turning around, her hands gripped tight on the wheel as she pushed the van higher into the clouds. "My uncle used to hunt up here and it’s completely off the grid with no power and no phones, which means Ethan won't be able to find us or track a signal tonight.""He’s goi
ANYA’S POVThe gravel dug into my palms like a thousand tiny shards of broken glass, stinging and sharp, but I didn't make a sound as I stayed as low to the ground as I possibly could. My heart was thundering against my ribs, a wild and frantic rhythm that felt loud enough for the whole world to hear. Just a few yards away, the driver was still standing at the front of the bus, a dark and jagged shape silhouetted against the huge, empty horizon of the desert. He was humming some mindless little tune to himself, completely oblivious to the fact that his "cargo" had just crawled out of the emergency hatch and was currently shivering in the dirt.I didn't try to run for the fence because I knew there was no way I’d make it. Instead, I stayed in the dark and crawled toward the shadows of the building. It wasn't some high-tech facility or a fancy lab; it was just a sad, abandoned roadside motel that looked like it hadn't seen a guest in twenty years. Ethan must have rented it for cash to k
ANYA"If I wanted a lecture on morality, I would’ve stayed in Sunday school, Anya. I certainly wouldn't have hired a girl whose biggest career achievement was getting blacklisted by every major label in the tri-state area."Ethan didn’t even bother to look at me when he said it. He remained perched in the driver’s jump seat of the tour bus, his spine as rigid and unforgiving as a tombstone. His eyes were locked on the black ribbon of the desert road, tracking the high beams like he was searching for a reason to hit something. The sickly green glow from the dashboard bled upward, carving out the sharp, arrogant line of his jaw and making his skin look like cold marble. He looked like a man who had never been told no in his entire life—and he clearly didn't plan on letting a "failed critic" start now."He’s a human being, Ethan. Not a vintage piano you can just retune and polish because you don't like the way the strings are vibrating," I snapped. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a han
Anya's POV The Nebraska panhandle was nothing but a flat, black ocean of silence. Outside the heavy windows of the tour bus, the wind howled across the plains, slamming against the frame until the whole vehicle shuddered. It felt like we were the only living things left in a world that had gone cold and dark. Inside the lounge, the air was even worse—it was thick, stale, and tasted like copper.Ethan hadn’t slept. I could tell by the way he moved—jagged, twitchy, like a man vibrating on a frequency of pure, desperate fury. He was pacing the narrow aisle, his footsteps heavy and rhythmic against the laminate flooring. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with a raw redness that made him look less like a high-powered manager and more like a predator backed into a corner.In his hand, he gripped the satellite bridge. He’d found it."I’m going to ask one more time," Ethan said. His voice wasn't loud. It was a low, dangerous crawl that set my teeth on edge.He stopped directly over Lila. She w
Anya’s POVThe basement studio was a sensory deprivation chamber designed for the ultra-wealthy. There were no windows, no clocks, and the air smelled of ozone and expensive filtration. The walls were covered in dark, heavy acoustic fabric that seemed to swallow every sound I made, from the rustle
Anya’s povThe sleet had turned into a steady, punishing rain by the time I managed to slip out of the penthouse. I didn’t ask for a car. I didn't want a Titan-branded SUV tracking my coordinates. I hailed a black cab on the corner, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to hide their trembling.The
Anya’s POVThe private jet didn't feel like a luxury. It felt like a pressurized metal tube designed to keep us trapped at thirty thousand feet. The cabin was all cream leather and polished walnut, glowing with soft, recessed lighting that made everything look expensive and fake.I sat in a wide ca
Anya’s POVLondon didn't greet us with open arms; it greeted us with a wall of grey sleet and the suffocating pressure of a dozen black SUVs.The transition from the jet to the ground was a blur of motion. Ethan didn't let my feet touch the tarmac for more than a second before I was ushered into th







