The morning began with a knock.
It wasn't sharp or frantic—just three soft taps, each perfectly spaced, like a metronome. It was the kind of knock that didn't ask for permission. It warned you that something was about to change.
Nora opened the door and found Fiona standing there in a scarlet coat, lips the same bold shade. There were two agents flanking her, both suited in Bureau black, with silver badges clipped like polished threats.
Adrian was already behind Nora. He didn't look surprised.
"I see you brought friends," he said coolly.
Fiona offered a smile as sharp as a switchblade. "Backup. You know how things get when emotions start clouding judgment."
She pushed past Nora like she owned the place, her heels clacking against the marble like the ticking of a time bomb.
Fiona placed a silver briefcase on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was a slim, high-security tablet. She activated it with a thumbprint.
"This is the Bureau's final offer," she said.
Adrian glanced at the screen. "Ten million and full immunity?"
"Plus relocation. New identities, if needed. For both of you."
Nora flinched. Both? Since when was she part of this?
"Why me?" she asked quietly.
Fiona didn't even look at her. "Collateral. They know you're too close now. You've seen too much. Either you're protected with him… or eliminated with him."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Then Adrian said, "What's the catch?"
Fiona's grin widened. "You hand over the entire Blacklist tonight. No fragments. No games. If you delay, the deal's off—and the Hollow Syndicate will be the least of your problems."
After the Bureau agents left, Adrian paced the study like a panther in a cage. Nora sat by the window, watching him unravel without saying a word.
Finally, she broke the silence. "You're not taking the deal, are you?"
He stopped walking. "Would you?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. But I know if you take it, you're not doing it to save yourself."
His voice dropped. "I'm doing it to protect you."
That rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
She stood up, arms crossed. "You think you get to decide what's best for me now?"
"Yes," he said simply. "Because I've made people disappear for less. Because the men hunting us now… don't believe in warnings. They believe in blood."
Her breath caught. "So what's your plan?"
He looked at her like she was his last anchor. "I'm going to finish what I started. But I need you to decide something now."
"What?"
Adrian walked up to her and took her hand.
"Are you with me—or are you just watching me burn?"
That afternoon, Adrian led her to a sealed server room she hadn't seen before. Inside, it was freezing and humming with old power. There were vaults—literal ones—lined with data chips and titanium drives.
He pulled out a slim, black drive. It was unmarked.
"This is the Ghost File," he said.
"What's in it?"
He looked her in the eyes. "The original list. The unedited one. Including names I removed—names too dangerous to ever reveal."
She stared at the drive like it might explode.
"If it's so dangerous," she whispered, "why keep it?"
"Because I'm not done using it," Adrian said. "But if anything happens to me, you have to decide what to do with it."
Nora swallowed. "You want me to be your backup plan."
"No," he said. "I want you to be the only one I trust."
That night, as tension thickened in the safehouse, Adrian and Nora sat together in the darkened hallway. Outside, rain tapped on the windows. Inside, danger clung to the air like mist.
She turned to him. "What was your real job before this?"
He chuckled. "What makes you think I had one?"
"I don't believe in ghosts, Adrian. But I believe in scars."
He looked at her for a long moment, then said quietly, "I used to erase people. I'd find them, expose them, and then erase them. Not by killing—by destroying every trace of their existence."
"And now?"
"Now I'm trying to undo some of that damage."
She leaned in, drawn by something deeper than lust—something raw and unspoken. "Do you regret it?"
His breath was shaky. "Only the ones I didn't erase fast enough."
She kissed him then.
It wasn't gentle or cautious—it was heat and danger and desperation all tangled into one.
And when it broke, he looked wrecked. "Don't fall for me."
She smiled, eyes fierce. "Too late."
By midnight, the storm had worsened. Dax barged into the study, eyes wild.
"They're here."
Adrian snapped to his feet. "Who?"
"Hollow Syndicate. Two blocks away. Tactical van. They're not Bureau—they're hunters."
Adrian moved fast. He loaded a pistol, handed one to Nora, and motioned for the Ghost File.
"Pack everything. We move in five minutes."
They moved like muscle memory. Dax set up countermeasures. Adrian encrypted the drives. Nora packed clothes, weapons, burner phones.
As she zipped her duffel, she looked out the window—and froze.
A red laser dot danced across the wall.
"Down!" she screamed.
Glass shattered. A bullet ripped through the air where her head had just been.
Dax pulled her to cover. "Sniper. Second one."
"Two teams," Adrian muttered. "They know the floor plan."
"Traitor?" Nora asked.
Adrian didn't answer.
They slipped through the underground exit. The safehouse erupted behind them—detonated remotely. Smoke rolled into the night sky like a funeral.
In a nondescript sedan, Adrian drove them down a dark highway at 130 km/h.
Nora sat in the back, the Ghost File clutched in her lap. Her heart thudded.
They stopped at an abandoned warehouse miles outside the city. No signal. No power. Just shadows.
As Adrian and Dax checked for trackers, Nora finally breathed.
"Who knew the safehouse location?"
Dax glanced at her. "Only three people."
Adrian said nothing.
Fiona's voice echoed in Nora's mind.
He uses people.
She bit her lip. "Fiona warned me about you."
Adrian turned slowly. "What did she say?"
"That you never stop calculating."
He looked tired. "She's not wrong. But I never lied to you."
"Did you ever plan to let me go?"
"No."
They laid low for hours.
At 3:09 a.m., Dax returned from a perimeter check with an encrypted phone.
"Boss. You need to see this."
He handed Adrian the screen.
Adrian's face hardened. "It's a Judas protocol."
"What does that mean?" Nora asked.
"It's a kill order… signed off by the Bureau."
Dax finished the sentence. "On you, Adrian."
Adrian's jaw clenched. "Fiona made the offer so they could track me. And now she's using the deal to mark me as expendable."
Nora felt her chest tighten. "Then we can't go to them."
"No," Adrian said. "But we can burn them instead."
He opened a steel case from his duffel.
Inside were the backup drives—copies of the Blacklist. A broadcast tool. A tracker disruptor.
Adrian's eyes gleamed. "We leak the fake list first. Enough to cause panic. Then we bait them into a meet."
"Why not give them the real one?"
He looked at her. "Because I want to see their faces when they realize I still hold the truth."
The next morning, they relocated again—this time to a remote cabin deep in the mountains.
Snow was falling.
Nora and Adrian sat together on the porch, both armed, both exhausted.
She turned to him.
"If you die, what happens to the real list?"
"I sent a code to a dead drop. If I don't check in every 48 hours, it sends everything to four global journalists."
She blinked. "You never planned to survive this, did you?"
He said nothing.
She grabbed his collar and pulled him close. "Screw that. If you die, I leak it myself."
He smiled faintly. "You're more dangerous than I thought."
She kissed him again—this time slower. Deeper.
Then, quietly, she whispered, "I'm not just watching you burn, Adrian. I'm going to burn the whole system with you."