Amelia knew something was wrong the second the fire alarm in her building started screaming.
Not the soft chirp of low batteries.
The full, shrill evacuation siren that ripped through the hallway and shook her apartment walls.
She bolted upright from the couch.
Smoke.
Her first thought was smoke.
Her second was him.The alarm lights blinked red across her living room as she rushed to the door and opened it.
Neighbors were rushing into the hallway in confusion, some in pajamas, some barefoot,
shouting questions over the blaring siren.
There was no smoke.
No smell.
Just panic.
Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Ethan.
Of course.
She answered without greeting.
"Do not leave your apartment.
"
His voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"The alarm is going off.
"
"I know.
"
That stopped her.
"You what?"
"Stay inside,
" he repeated.
"Lock the door.
"
People were pushing toward the staircase. Someone pounded on another door down the hall. A
child was crying. The flashing red lights made everything feel unreal.
"Are you pulling alarms now?" she demanded.
"I didn't pull it,
" he said calmly.
"But someone else did.
"
Her stomach tightened.
"You said they were escalating,
" she whispered.
"They are.
"
A heavy thud echoed from the staircase. Raised voices, not confused voices.
Controlled.
Moving upward.
Her pulse increased.
"Ethan.
"
"I see them,
" he said, tone sharpening slightly.
"Two males. Third floor. They're not evacuating.
"
She stepped back into her apartment immediately and shut the door.
"Your men?" she asked.
"No.
"
The single word drained the air from her lungs.
The hallway noise shifted. Less scattered, and more deliberate.
The alarm kept screaming.
"What do I do?" she demanded, hating that she was asking him that.
"Bedroom,
" he said instantly.
"Lock it. Now.
"
His certainty steadied her feet even while it angered her.
She hated that he was right.
She hated that he had people watching.
She hated that she felt safer because he did.
She ran to her bedroom, locked the door, and dragged her dresser in front of it again, the
scrape of wood against the floor almost drowned out by the alarm.Her arm ached from the hospital bandaging, but she ignored it.
"Talk to me,
" she whispered.
"They split up,
" he said. She could hear faint typing on his end. Calm. Efficient.
door.
"
Her heart slammed.
The hallway noise shifted closer.
A shadow moved beneath the crack at the bottom of her apartment's front door.
The handle rattled.
Not testing.
Forcing.
The fire alarm abruptly stopped.
Silence fell like a dropped curtain.
No more screaming sirens.
No more neighbor voices.
Just the sound of metal straining against her lock.
"They cut the power to the alarm system,
" Ethan said quietly.
Her lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then it went out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Only faint city light slipped through her bedroom window.
Her breathing grew loud in her ears.
"One is at your
A crash exploded through the apartment.Her front door was gone. Wood splintered across the
tiles, jagged shards scattering like fallen teeth. Footsteps entered, slow, deliberate, unhurried.
"Security is sixty seconds out,
" Ethan said, calm but tense.
"Sixty seconds is not comforting,
" she muttered.
"Stay where you are.
"
Another crash shook the room, this time against her bedroom door. The dresser rattled violently.
She snatched the metal lamp from her bedside table, gripping it like a weapon, ready to strike.
"You do not move unless they breach,
" Ethan instructed.
"They are breaching,
" she whispered, her voice tight.
The door handle twisted violently. A voice, low, irritated, cut through the tension.
"She's inside.
"
Her blood froze. Another hit. The frame splintered further.
"Ethan?"
"I'm here.
"
The bedroom door exploded inward. Wood splitted into two, flying across the floor like missiles.
The dresser slammed violently to the side. Dust and fragments of paint floated in the air,
catching the dim light. Two masked men rushed in, their movements sharp, predatory,
calculated, but at the exact same moment, a third figure emerged from the closet. Chaoscollided in a heartbeat, an explosion of movement and fear. One masked man shouted, a harsh
sound, and the figure from the closet reacted instantly, impossibly fast.
He grabbed the nearest attacker with strength that seemed unnatural, twisted him, and
slammed him into the wall. The impact echoed through the room like thunder. Paint flakes and
small pieces of wood fell from the ceiling. A gun fell to the floor. Amelia froze, her chest tight, her
heart hammering in her ears. She felt every pulse, every rapid inhale.
The second masked man looked at her, eyes wide, calculating, teeth clenched. Before he could
reach her, a deafening gunshot cracked through the room, bouncing off the walls, shaking the
air. The attacker dropped instantly, lifeless, and the silence that followed was just as sharp. The
man from the closet now stood between her and the doorway, tall, broad, controlled, radiating a
calm authority that seemed impossible given the chaos. Even in the darkness, she recognized
him. Every line of his posture, the way he held himself, betrayed him.
"You never listen,
" Ethan said coldly. Her heart skipped a beat. The words cut through her fear,
sharp and precise.
"You were on the phone,
" she breathed, voice trembling.
"I was downstairs.
"
Outside, sirens wailed, real ones this time, echoing through the walls. Heavy boots thundered
up the staircase, each step like a drumbeat marking time. Ethan didn't glance at her, didn't
reassure her. His eyes were fixed on the blinking red device clutched in the first attacker's hand.
Still active. Still counting down. Every second stretched impossibly long.
"That's not a bomb,
" she whispered, voice barely audible over her own heartbeat.
"No,
" he said quietly, his jaw tight, eyes narrowing.
"It's worse.
"
The red light shifted from blinking to solid. Every phone,hers, theirs, Ethan's, vibrated
simultaneously. A message flashed across her screen. The livestream began. Her stomach
dropped. Her blood ran cold. She could feel her hands shaking. Every nerve screamed in alarm,
every instinct screamed at her to run, but she couldn't move, trapped by fear and disbelief.
Ethan's eyes met hers, no anger, no arrogance, no command. Something far darker lingered in
their depths, something cold and precise, assessing, calculating.
"They don't want you dead,
" he said quietly, his voice a shadow in the chaos.
"They want you
visible.
"
From somewhere outside the apartment, slow, deliberate applause echoed. Each clap
resonated in her chest like a drumbeat. A familiar, smooth voice called through the room, silk
over steel:
"Congratulations. You just went viral.