Page 18

"X avier!" His name tore from my throat as he crumpled to the floor, his gun skittering across the polished tiles. Time slowed as I watched his body go limp, blood trickling from his temple in a thin line that made my stomach heave.

I lunged forward, rational thought drowned out by the roaring in my ears. Not Xavier. Not him. The sight of his blood awakened something primal in me. I'd designed hundreds of combat simulations in the Army, lost everything to fire twice over, but watching Xavier fall hit me with a terror I'd never felt before.

A dark figure moved between me and Xavier's prone body. The hooded man shifted, and for the first time, I found myself face to face with our attacker.

He didn't look like a monster. That was my first absurd thought as I froze mid-step, my heart hammering against my ribs. He looked like any other tech guy I might have worked with—lean build, intelligent eyes behind stylish glasses, expensive hoodie. If I'd passed him on the street, I'd have assumed he was just another Silicon Valley transplant with too much money and too little sleep.

But his eyes. Cold. Calculating. With a familiar intensity that chilled me to the core. The same obsessive focus I'd seen in Xavier's gaze when he talked about justice. When he planned his hunts. He reminded me of Xavier in the worst possible way, and the realization made bile rise in my throat.

"Leo Astrada," he said, my name rolling off his tongue with disturbing familiarity. His voice was smooth, cultured, with none of the manic edge I'd expected from someone who burned down homes. "Finally. I've wanted to meet you for quite some time."

"Get away from him," I managed, my voice steadier than the tremor in my hands.

As Xander began to ease away from my side toward a better position, Felix instantly swung his pistol toward them. "Don't," he said calmly, not even looking at Xander directly. "Stay exactly where you are or I put a bullet in your brother's other temple."

"Everyone's got beef with somebody," Xander drawled, his posture deliberately casual despite the tension in the room. "But pulling a gun is just tacky. Why don't we talk this out like civilized psychopaths?"

"Another word and I shoot him in the knee first," the man replied, pistol unwavering, his second hand holding what looked like a metal baton—the weapon he'd used on Xavier. He kept his back to the wall, maintaining sightlines to all of us, including Maxime, who remained bound to a chair in the corner, eyes wide.

I needed to keep his attention on me. "You're Felix Burns, right?"

Surprise flickered across his face before settling into cold calculation. "You've done your homework." He glanced down at Xavier. "Too late, unfortunately."

My chest constricted, lungs refusing to expand fully. Xavier was still breathing—I could see the slight rise and fall of his chest—but the blood seeping from his temple made my vision tunnel with fear. Images of him surrounded by medical equipment like his father flashed through my mind. Or worse.

"This is about your father," I said, forcing myself to focus. "About what Xavier did to him."

Felix's expression hardened, the mask of casual indifference slipping for just a moment to reveal the rage beneath. His nostrils flared, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Both were tiny tells that revealed the inferno burning beneath his controlled exterior.

"My father was a businessman making difficult choices in a cutthroat industry."

"Your father let fourteen people die," I replied, taking a small step forward. Calculate distance, maintain eye contact, keep him talking. Every simulation I'd ever run suddenly felt desperately relevant. "Children died in those fires."

"And that justified torture?" His voice cracked on the word torture. "Justified making him suffer before burning him alive?"

"Everyone's got dead relatives," Xander drawled from their position against the wall, their posture deliberately casual despite the tension in the room. "Doesn't give you the right to burn down other people's homes. Your daddy was a piece of shit who let children die. Xavier just balanced the scales."

Felix's eyes flashed to Xander, cold and calculating. "You have no idea what it's like to lose someone you love. But you're going to find out." He kicked Xavier's gun further away.

"You want to kill Xavier," I said, the realization making my blood run cold. "But not quickly. You want him to suffer first."

Felix smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "Very good, Leo. You understand the fundamentals of balance. Of justice." He pulled something from his pocket—a roll of zip ties. "Now here's what's going to happen. You're going to tie up your boyfriend's smartass sibling. Nice and tight."

He tossed the zip ties at my feet, keeping the gun trained on Xander. "And if you try anything clever, I kill them instantly. Then Xavier wakes up to both your corpses."

My hands trembled as I picked up the ties. "Why are you doing this? I understand your father died, but this won't bring him back."

Felix's expression darkened, something raw breaking through his calculated facade. "You think I don't know that? My father wasn't perfect, but he was mine. Xavier had no right to take him from me. No right to make him suffer." He gestured with the gun for me to hurry up with the ties. "Now I'm going to take everything from Xavier. Starting with you two."

I looked at the zip ties in my hands. "This isn't justice. This is just more pain."

"Bingo," Felix said, gesturing with the gun. "That's exactly the point. The zip ties, Leo. Now."

I moved toward Xander, my mind racing. Felix wanted me to restrain Xander, and then he'd restrain me. Then Xavier would wake up to find us both helpless, at Felix's mercy. The thought made me sick.

"Stop stalling," Felix demanded. "Tighter."

"Any tighter and I'll cut off their circulation," I said, securing the ties around Xander's wrists.

"That's the idea," Felix replied. "Now their ankles too."

As I knelt to secure Xander's ankles, they caught my eye, a silent message passing between us. They were planning something, but I couldn't tell what. All I knew was that I needed to keep Felix talking, keep him distracted until whatever opportunity Xander saw presented itself.

"Why target me first?" I asked, deliberately fumbling with the ties to buy time. "Why burn my trailer when Xavier was your target all along?"

"Because you're his weakness. His obsession," Felix replied, his eyes tracking every movement of my hands. "I monitored him for months, trying to understand what made him tick. And then there you were. This unassuming tech specialist that the great Xavier Laskin would do anything to protect."

From across the room, Maxime cleared his throat. "Mr. Burns, I believe we can come to an arrangement." His voice was steady despite being bound to the chair, his face maintaining its professional composure. "Mr. Etremont would be willing to—"

"Shut up," Felix snapped, not taking his eyes off me. "Your boss is next on my list after I'm done with the Laskins."

"A grave miscalculation," Maxime replied calmly. "Algerone isn't someone you want as an enemy."

Felix's attention shifted slightly toward Maxime, irritation flashing across his face. "I said shut—"

The security panel by the door suddenly flashed red, followed by a mechanical whirring sound. Felix's head snapped toward it.

"What did you do?" he demanded, swinging the gun toward Maxime.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Xavier's fingers twitch. He was starting to come around. If Felix noticed, he'd speed up his timeline. I needed to keep his attention away from Xavier.

"What are you going to do to us?" I asked, my voice deliberately trembling. It wasn't hard to fake fear when terror was already coursing through my veins.

Before Felix could answer, the doors to the security room slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Six tactical-clad security personnel poured into the room, weapons raised, moving in formation.

"Drop your weapon!" the lead officer shouted, his rifle trained on Felix.

Felix's eyes darted around the room, calculating odds. For a split second, I thought he might try to use me as a shield, but Algerone's security team had positioned themselves too well, covering every angle.

"This isn't over," he called, eyes locking on Xavier's now fully conscious form. "We're just getting started."

In one fluid motion, Felix pulled a small black cube from his pocket and tossed it toward the security team. The device hit the floor with a metallic clatter, immediately emitting a high-pitched whine followed by a blinding flash. A flashbang. My vision whited out completely, ears ringing so badly I couldn't hear anything but a high-pitched tone.

Gunshots rang out, muffled by the ringing in my ears. By the time my vision cleared enough to see, Felix was gone, and two of Algerone's security guards were down, clutching wounded limbs.

"Secure the perimeter!" the team leader was shouting into his comm unit. "Target is on the move! All units converge on the east wing exit!"

I scrambled toward Xavier, who was still on the floor, struggling to push himself up to his elbows. Blood matted his hair at his temple, his eyes unfocused as he tried to track the chaos around him.

"Xavier," I said, kneeling beside him, my hands hovering over his shoulders, afraid to move him too quickly. "Stay down. You probably have a concussion."

"Leo," he slurred, reaching for me with an unsteady hand. "You okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," I assured him, catching his hand and squeezing it. "Felix is gone. Algerone's security team showed up."

Xavier tried to sit up again, grimacing. "Need to... go after him..."

"You need to stay down," I insisted, gently pressing my palm against his chest. "You were just unconscious!"

"Mr. Laskin needs medical attention," the security team leader said, helping his wounded men to their feet. "Mr. Etremont has a medical team standing by."

Xander, who had managed to wriggle partially free of their restraints during the chaos, jerked their chin toward one of the security officers. "Hey, a little help here before my hands go completely numb?"

As a security officer cut Xander free, Maxime spoke up from his chair where another team member was removing his restraints. "Perhaps now you'll appreciate why Mr. Etremont insisted on keeping you here, Mr. Laskin. Phoenix is clearly targeting you specifically."

Xavier ignored him, his focus solely on me. "He was going to hurt you," he said, the words slurring slightly but filled with quiet rage.

"But he didn't," I said softly, helping him sit up with my arm around his shoulders. "And now we know who he is. We're going to find him."

The doors to the security room slid open with a hydraulic hiss. The security team parted, making way for a tall figure striding purposefully into the room. Algerone Caisse-Etremont himself surveyed the scene with cold fury, his tailored suit immaculate despite the hour, his silver-streaked hair perfectly styled. The resemblance to Xavier was unmistakable in the sharp angles of his face and the glacial intensity of his eyes.

"Status," Algerone demanded.

"Target escaped through the east service corridor, sir," the team leader reported. "Two casualties, non-fatal. We've initiated full lockdown protocols."

Algerone's gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on each of us before settling on Xavier, still on the floor with my arm supporting him. Something flashed across Algerone's face—concern, perhaps, or calculation—before his expression hardened again.

"Medical team," he ordered, and within seconds, a medic appeared with a tactical stretcher and a field kit.

"You need to get checked out," I told Xavier as the medic approached.

Algerone crouched beside us. "What did Phoenix want?"

"To make Xavier watch while he hurt us," I replied, meeting his gaze. "He's recreating what happened to his father."

Algerone's jaw tightened, the only sign that the information affected him. "Richard Thackery's son," he said, not a question but a statement.

Two security officers dragged in a man in a tactical uniform—one of their own, with a bloody nose and the beginnings of an impressive black eye.

"Found this one trying to climb the perimeter fence," one of the officers said.

Maxime, having retrieved his tablet from where it had fallen during the attack, quickly tapped through several screens. "Gregory Walsh, sir. Security detail, east wing. Military background, four years with us. Divorced. Financial records show significant debt and..." Maxime paused, eyebrows rising slightly. "A sudden deposit to his account six hours ago."

Algerone's eyes never left Walsh's face. "And why were you trying to leave so urgently, Mr. Walsh?" His voice was deceptively gentle.

Walsh swallowed visibly. "I... I…" Walsh's eyes darted around the room, looking for sympathy and finding none. "I didn't know what he was planning! He just paid me to disable a few systems!"

Algerone moved with startling speed for a man in a tailored suit. One moment he was standing calmly in front of Walsh, the next his hand was around the man's throat, lifting him off the ground with minimal effort. Walsh's feet scrambled for purchase as he gasped for air.

"You opened my home to an enemy," Algerone said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, his expression unchanged despite the violence of his action. "You endangered my children."

What made the display truly chilling was the complete absence of emotion in Algerone's eyes. No rage, no hatred—just cold, calculated violence applied with precision. As though strangling a man was simply another business transaction to be completed efficiently.

The security officers who had brought Walsh in took an instinctive step back. Even Maxime looked momentarily unsettled before his professional mask settled back into place.

Xavier's attention snapped to Walsh, his eyes clearing slightly with the surge of adrenaline. "You let him in?" he growled, attempting to push himself up despite his obvious dizziness.

"Stay down," Algerone ordered, placing a restraining hand on Xavier's shoulder. But there was no rebuke in the gesture, only a calculation. "We'll handle him together. When you're medically cleared."

The way he said "handle" sent a chill through the room.

Xander eyed Walsh with a cold smile, rubbing his wrists where the zip ties had cut into them. "Family bonding time. How lovely."

Walsh's face drained of color as he glanced between the three of them. "Look, I just needed the money. My ex-wife—"

"Save it," Algerone cut him off. "You'll tell us everything you know about Phoenix. His plan. His location. His contacts." He gestured to the security team. "Take him to interrogation room one. No one speaks to him until I arrive. And as for you..."

Maxime faltered briefly. "I'm sorry, sir. I—"

"Good work, Max," Algerone said. "That was quick thinking, sending the alert straight from your watch. I'm glad you were here."

Maxime's composure transformed instantly, his eyes brightening and posture straightening with pride. "I knew you'd want to handle this... personally," he replied, a subtle flush creeping up his neck at the rare use of his nickname.

Xander rolled their eyes so dramatically it was a wonder they didn't fall out of their head. They caught my gaze and mimed gagging, though quietly enough that neither Algerone nor Maxime noticed.

"Find Phoenix," Algerone ordered the remaining security team. "I want every system scanning, every camera active."

The medic was working on Xavier's head wound, checking his pupils and applying antiseptic to the gash at his temple. Xavier winced, but remained focused on Walsh as the guards dragged him away.

"You," Algerone turned to Xander, who had fully freed themself from the zip ties. "Are you injured?"

"Just my pride," Xander replied, some of their usual flippancy returning despite the situation. "And possibly my wrists from Leo's terrible restraint technique."

Something that might have been amusement flickered across Algerone's face before disappearing. "Have the medic check you, too." His gaze shifted to me. "You as well, Mr. Astrada. I want all of you cleared before we begin questioning Walsh."

As the medic worked on Xavier's head wound, Xavier kept his focus on me, his eyes occasionally drifting to my throat where bruises were forming from Felix's grip. "I'll kill him for touching you," he whispered.

"We'll find him," I replied, squeezing his hand.

Xavier's jaw tightened, pain and rage warring in his expression. "He wanted me to watch you suffer. That's not happening. Not ever. I'd tear his throat out with my teeth if I had to."

A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with fear. The violent possessiveness in Xavier's voice would have frightened any rational person. Instead, my cock gave an excited twitch, and I had the sudden urge to drag him into the closet to taste him. The knowledge that he would kill for me made me feel precious. Protected. Desired.

I leaned closer, shifting uncomfortably as I tried to hide my inappropriate reaction, hoping the others wouldn't notice the flush spreading across my face. "Felix made one big mistake."

"What's that?"

"He thought he understood you. But he doesn't know what you're capable of. He has no idea what happens when the Laskins and Etremonts decide to work together."

Xavier's fingers tightened around mine, his expression mirroring the deadly calm I'd seen in his father's face. "He's going to learn why fire has always been my favorite weapon."

I glanced at Algerone, who was conferring quietly with the security team leader, and recognized the same methodical ruthlessness in his posture that I'd seen countless times in Xavier. For once, father and son were aligned in purpose, two predators with the same prey in their sights.

Felix Burns had made a catastrophic miscalculation. He'd threatened what Xavier loved and had now earned the focused wrath of not just Xavier, but the entire Etremont-Laskin dynasty.

And that would be his undoing.