And I… I nearly forgot to breathe.
This woman — this force of nature — she embodied chaos and calm, fire and ice, and somehow, I remained in awe of how she navigated violence as if it couldn’t touch her soul.
We dispatched the last attacker, breathing heavily, hearts pounding. I turned toward her — just to check in, to see how she was holding up. But she was already staring ahead.
Frozen.
“Sunshine?”
I said softly, gun still drawn. She didn’t respond. Then I heard it: clapping.
Slow. Precise. Hollow.
From the far end of the corridor, a man stepped into view. Tall. Suited. Cold.
My stomach plummeted. Even before he spoke, I sensed it.
“Elizabeth,” he said, a faint smile gracing his lips. “You always did exceed expectations.”
Liz’s entire body went rigid. Not with fear. With fury. With heartbreak.
“No,” she breathed. “No. It can’t be.”
“Is that any way to greet your father?” he asked, moving forward as if he had every right to be there, to re-enter her life.
I instinctively positioned myself in front of her, rage bubbling in my throat.
Her father.
The man who had trained her like a weapon, twisting love into obedience. He was the mastermind behind all of this?
“I should’ve known,” Liz murmured behind me. Her voice was steady — but I could feel the tremor of her emotions just beneath the surface. “You never let go of control. Not even when you pretended to.”
“You were never meant to run,” he replied. “You were meant to lead.”
She stepped out from behind me now, jaw clenched, rain beading on her lashes, her gun aimed directly at his heart.
“I’m not yours anymore.”
He laughed. “No, darling. You’re still mine. You’re just confused.”
That was it. The crack in her composure. I saw it — the hurt flickering behind her eyes, too swift for anyone but me to catch.
And it ignited something within me.
“You don’t get to define her,” I growled, stepping forward.
He raised an eyebrow. “And you must be the stray she’s been keeping close. How quaint.”
“You’re done,” I said. “We have everything. Your operation is finished.”
“Oh?” he smirked. “Then why do you still look so lost, Noah?”
And just like that, he vanished behind a steel door before I could pull the trigger — gone like a wisp of smoke.
Silence returned, heavy and soaked in betrayal.
I turned to Liz, who hadn’t moved. Her hands hung limply at her sides. Her shoulders trembled — not from the cold. But from everything else.
