Page 31

Kabir

I couldn’t keep my gaze steady.

Every person I looked at felt like a suspect.

The five core staffers at Blackthorn’s Command Center all had high-level clearance. Any one of them could’ve accessed my room. Could’ve hacked DaLia .

Spencer.

Abigail.

Cody.

Maverick.

Harshita.

Hell, even the bar manager, Kent, was giving me bad vibes.

Chef Matthis?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Fuck.

I spent the whole day watching them—tracking their movements, their breaks, their personal calls. Nothing stood out, but that didn’t mean shit.

And the worst part?

If I dug deeper—ran background checks, tracked digital footprints—I’d expose myself. I’d give them proof I knew something.

I couldn’t risk that.

I couldn’t risk her .

I made sure Kaylan was with Amelia constantly. And when she wasn’t— I was. No exceptions.

Dylan was practically catatonic. Not that I blamed him.

I was buried in the Pentagon data streams when my phone buzzed.

Sebastian and Ghost were calling me to the lounge.

I sighed.

This better be good, because I didn’t want to leave the Command Center with a potential rat scurrying about.

I locked my laptop and walked off, each step echoing with that gnawing pressure in my gut—feeling of eyes on me.

One of them.

It was one of these five.

I just know it.

My gut was screaming at me.

The lounge was unnervingly quiet when I walked in.

Sebastian sat across from Ghost in one of the alcoves, their voices low. The kind of conversation you didn’t interrupt. I slid into the seat next to Seb, catching the tail end of something about the Pentagon—plans, next steps, fallout.

“I know you’re working on the data,” Ghost said, glancing at me. “Take your time.”

I gave a quiet nod, my mind already spinning. “Why was I summoned?”

Sebastian exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Zane’s back. Ronan too.”

My chest jerked like someone had slammed their fist into it. They were back?

“Where are they?” I started to rise, but Seb’s hand shot out, firm on my shoulder, anchoring me down.

“They’re in the clinic,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Ronan… he’s in bad shape. Zane too. We don’t know what weeks of captivity did to him.”

My jaw clenched. “Is he okay?”

Ghost nodded slowly. “Physically? Mostly. Mentally? Not so sure. He’s not himself. You two were close… maybe he’ll talk to you.”

I blinked, swallowing the knot rising in my throat. My thoughts immediately scattered—Zane, tortured, broken. What did they do to him? Had Romano gotten to him? Had he made the same threats I just heard in my room?

Seb and Ghost continued talking, but their voices faded to static. I watched them—really watched them—as though I might not see them again.

Maybe I wouldn’t. Not when I had to disappear before the 36-hour window ran out. Not if I chose to protect them all by walking into Romano’s trap.

I sighed heavily. “I’ll go see them.”

I made my way toward the clinic, my footsteps slower than usual. As I passed Amelia’s room, a vision blindsided me—cold and vivid—someone unplugging her ventilator, slipping away unseen.

No. Fuck. Don’t think like that.

But this was already harder than I imagined. How was I supposed to leave her behind? Alone?

I’ll find a way. I’ll protect her. Even if I have to do it from the other side of hell.

I pushed open the door to Ronan’s room.

“Zane?” My voice was soft, like I was approaching something wild and wounded. Because I was.

He sat hunched beside Ronan’s bed, his fingers tangled together, his eyes hollow and red. Ronan lay motionless, tethered to tubes and monitors—just like Amelia.

Zane didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe—until he finally looked at me.

Fuck.

His face was covered in bruises, his tattoos on his neck unidentifiable due to the purplish hue.

“The bastard…” His voice cracked like glass. “The bastard saved me instead of himself.”

And just like that, everything holding him together shattered. He broke. A raw, guttural sob tore out of him, and he collapsed inward, lost in it.

I was at his side in a heartbeat, pulling him into a hug, gripping him like I could keep both of us from falling apart.

Guess we were both drowning in the same goddamn nightmare. And neither of us had woken up yet.

Zane’s sobs slowly began to fade, turning into shallow breaths and trembling shoulders. I held on a moment longer before easing back, gripping his arm in a silent offer of strength.

“He’ll make it,” I said quietly, eyes flicking to Ronan’s pale, unmoving form.

Zane gave me a fragile smile. It was the kind that barely held together, but still reached his eyes.

“She’ll make it too,” he whispered.

My chest cracked open. I nodded, because I couldn’t say anything else. Because if I did, I’d fall apart in front of him.

It should’ve been a moment. A rare, unspoken understanding. I should’ve felt comforted, even hopeful.

But I didn’t.

Because this brother—the one who’d created the Sentrix architecture line by line, bit by bit—was going to hate me when the sun came up.

He didn’t know yet. None of them did.

He didn’t know that the thing he built was the same thing I was about to steal.

That while he sat here broken and trusting, I was calculating how to rip a hole in the heart of everything he built… and hand it to our enemies just to keep our people breathing.

He didn’t know I’d already packed the prototype. Already encrypted the keys. Already chosen tonight to vanish.

And when he woke up tomorrow and realized what I’d done—he’d never look at me the same way again.

The sun would rise.

And Zane would hate me.

???

Just drive, Kabir.

Hit the ignition and go.

Fuck.

This was it.

Maybe I’d had one foot out the door this whole time.

I’d grabbed my stashed weapon—the one no one knew existed. Packed DaLia . I needed some part of myself in this, or I’d fall apart before the end.

I didn’t know what the hell was waiting for me in Virginia, or who would follow me there, but I had to disappear—fully. Lock down. Hide out.

They’d assume I was playing double agent.

Of course they would.

And maybe I was. But not for them. Not for Romano either.

I didn’t need their trust.

I just needed to bluff long enough to win.

The car I’d taken wasn’t even one of our hidden units. Just a standard sedan from our fleet. Nothing special. Except it had been quietly disconnected from Sentrix—by me.

No one would be tracking it.

Because I was the one who usually monitored the feeds.

Zane wouldn’t even notice. Last I checked, he hadn’t moved from Ronan’s bedside.

My burner pinged.

One message. One image.

And everything in me shut down.

It was Amelia. Her ventilator.

A gloved finger hovered over the power switch—posed like a threat, like a goddamn dare.

Unknown: I hope you’re on your way. :)

Rage overtook me.

I let out a broken scream, slamming my fists into the steering wheel until my hands went numb.

Fuck.

I had to go.

Now.

Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out my knife and found the RLM tag near my heart—a nearly invisible bulge embedded under my skin.

I didn’t hesitate.

The blade sliced clean, taking a chunk of my flesh. Blood welled fast. I dug my fingers in and yanked out the chip—bandaging it quickly.

The second it left my body, Blackthorn’s Command Center would get the alert.

‘Kabir, Inactive.’

No more tracking. No more pings.

I was gone.

I turned the ignition and peeled out of the south exit.

I realized I was wrong before.

It wasn’t just Zane who would hate me.

They’d all think I betrayed them.

Dylan. Ghost.

Leora. Delara. Sebastian.

They’d hate me.

Fuck!

Logan and Kaylan.

I sniffled and rubbed a hand on my face—trying to keep the tears at bay.

Screw it.

If keeping Amelia alive meant becoming the villain—

Then I’d burn down the world in silence.

And let them call me traitor.