Chapter 7
Morning came wrong.
Lucian knew it the moment his eyes opened.
The safehouse was too quiet, not the controlled quiet of reinforced walls and disciplined men, but the hollow kind that followed violence. The kind that meant something had shifted overnight while the city slept.
He sat up slowly, listening. No alarms. No raised voices. Just the faint hum of electricity and the distant sound of traffic far below.
Still wrong.
He dressed without turning on the lights, muscle memory guiding every movement. Gun. Jacket. Phone. He checked the security feed before leaving the room.
Everything is green.
That bothered him more than Red ever had.
Elara woke from a shallow, fractured sleep, the kind that left her exhausted instead of rested. Her body still remembered the echo of gunfire and the smell of blood on stone. Fear had settled into her muscles like a second skeleton.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, steadying herself.
She didn't want to wait for Lucian today.
That realization surprised her.
Not because she trusted him, she didn't, not fully, but because waiting felt like shrinking. Like letting things happen to her again.
She opened the door.
Lucian was already in the hallway, jacket on, expression carved from stone.
"You're up early," she said.
"So are you."
They studied each other for a beat, both carrying the same unspoken thought.
Something is coming.
The briefing was short and ugly.
Marcus had gone quiet after the failed safehouse breach. No retaliation. No taunts. No financial pressure.
Silence, again.
"He's regrouping," Lucian said, staring at the city map projected on the wall. "Or he's already moved."
"That's comforting," Elara muttered.
Lucian glanced at her. "I didn't say it was."
She crossed her arms. "What's the plan?"
Lucian hesitated.
That pause mattered more than any answer.
"You're not leaving the building today," he said.
Elara stiffened. "That's not a plan. That's confinement."
"It's protection."
"It's control," she snapped.
Lucian's jaw tightened. "This isn't about winning an argument."
"No," she said. "It's about whether I still get a say in my own life."
Silence stretched.
Lucian exhaled slowly. "If you walk out there right now, Marcus will know exactly where you are."
"You already assume he does."
"Yes," Lucian said. "But assumption isn't confirmation."
She shook her head. "You can't keep me locked away forever."
"I don't intend to."
"Then when does it stop?"
Lucian met her gaze, unflinching. "When he's neutralized."
"And if that takes years?"
Lucian didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
The call came just before noon.
Not to Lucian.
To Elara.
Unknown number. No caller ID.
Her phone vibrated in her hand like a warning.
Lucian saw it immediately. "Don't answer."
She looked at him. "If I don't, he'll keep calling."
Lucian stepped closer. "Elara."
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice, calm and warm and utterly wrong. "Ms. Wynn. I was beginning to think you'd ignore me."
Her stomach dropped.
Lucian's hand tightened into a fist.
"Who is this?" Elara asked.
"You know who this is," Marcus said lightly. "I'm surprised your employer hasn't warned you properly."
Lucian moved closer, voice low. "Hang up."
Elara didn't.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Marcus chuckled. "Straight to the point. I like that about you."
Lucian mouthed, "End it."
"I want to apologize," Marcus continued. "Things have escalated more quickly than I intended."
Elara laughed softly. "You tried to have me kidnapped."
"A misunderstanding," Marcus said smoothly. "One I corrected."
Lucian snapped, "You touch her again and."
Marcus cut him off. "Ah. You're there. Of course you are."
Elara's heart hammered.
"This is what I wanted you both to understand," Marcus went on. "You can't shield her forever, Lucian. And you," his tone shifted slightly, "don't actually belong in his world."
Elara swallowed. "Neither do you."
Marcus smiled, audible in his voice. "Oh, but I do. I was born for it. You were collateral."
Lucian reached for the phone.
Elara pulled it back.
"I'm not collateral," she said, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounded.
"No?" Marcus replied. "Then let's test that."
The line went dead.
Elara stared at the phone, chest tight.
Lucian grabbed it from her hand and checked the number.
Already gone.
"Pack a bag," Lucian said immediately. "We're moving."
"Again?" Elara demanded.
"This time, out of the city."
"No," she said.
Lucian turned sharply. "This isn't the moment."
"I'm not running," she said. "That's what he wants."
Lucian's eyes burned. "You think staying puts you in control?"
"I think disappearing makes me smaller," she replied. "And I'm done being small."
Lucian stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
"You don't understand how far he'll go."
"I understand exactly," she said. "He just proved it."
The room vibrated as another phone buzzed.
Lucian's this time.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
"What?" Elara asked.
Lucian didn't answer.
He turned the screen toward her.
A photo.
Her mother stepped out of her apartment building. Taken from across the street. Time-stamped minutes ago.
Elara's breath left her body in a rush.
"That's not possible," she whispered. "You said."
"I said he wouldn't touch you," Lucian said hoarsely.
The image shifted. A second photo.
A close-up of her mother's face.
Smiling. Unaware.
Elara's knees buckled.
Lucian caught her before she hit the floor.
"This is my fault," he said, voice raw.
She shoved him away, tears burning. "Don't you dare make this about you."
Lucian flinched.
Marcus's message followed.
Marcus: Now we're speaking the same language.
Lucian typed with shaking fingers.
Lucian: Let her go.
Marcus: She's not taken.
Lucian: Yet.
Marcus: Exactly.
Elara paced the room like a trapped animal.
"He's using her to get to you," she said. "Which means if you step back."
"He won't," Lucian said.
"You don't know that!"
"I do," Lucian snapped. "Marcus doesn't let leverage expire unused."
She stopped, turning on him. "Then we go to him."
Lucian stared. "Absolutely not."
"He wants you reactive," she said. "So stop reacting."
"You think walking into his territory is a strategy?" Lucian said bitterly. "That's suicide."
"Then teach me," she shot back. "You brought me into this. Don't sideline me now."
Lucian ran a hand through his hair, pacing himself.
"You don't survive men like Marcus by being brave," he said. "You survive by being ruthless."
"Then stop protecting me from that," she said. "Let me see it."
Lucian stopped in front of her.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
"You don't come back from this," he said quietly. "Once you see how this ends."
Elara met his gaze. "I'm already not the same."
That was the truth.
Lucian nodded once.
"All right," he said. "Then listen carefully."
They moved at dusk.
No convoy. No obvious security. Just shadows and misdirection.
Lucian drove.
Elara watched the city slide past, every familiar street now feeling like foreign ground.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Marcus's club," Lucian replied. "He likes public places. He thinks it makes him untouchable."
"And does it?"
Lucian smiled without humor. "Only until it doesn't."
The club loomed ahead, glass and steel, alive with light and music.
Lucian parked two blocks away.
"This is where you stay," he said. "You do not leave the car."
Elara shook her head. "You promised."
Lucian turned to her fully.
"This isn't a promise moment," he said. "This is a survival one."
Before she could argue, his phone buzzed.
Marcus: I see you.
Lucian's eyes flicked to the club's upper floor.
Marcus: Bring her inside.
Elara's heart dropped.
"He knows," she whispered.
"Yes," Lucian said.
"And he still wants me there."
Lucian swallowed.
"That's the point of no return," he said quietly.
They stepped out of the car together.
The club swallowed them whole, music pounding, bodies pressed close, the illusion of safety thick in the air.
Marcus waited on the balcony above, glass in hand, smiling.
Lucian felt something settle in his chest.
Cold. Clear.
This was it.
The moment everything broke open or burned down.
Elara felt it too.
The sense that whatever she was before tonight no longer existed.
Marcus raised his glass in greeting.
Lucian met his gaze without blinking.
The Devil had come to collect his debt.
And this time, he wasn't leaving empty-handed.