His lips part, and I can see the retort forming, but I hold up a hand, cutting him off.
“Don’t. You’re in deep,” I growl. “Deeper than you can imagine. The Guard doesn’t take kindly to nosy lawyers—or reporters, or whatever you are—who think they can expose us.”
“I’m not scared of you,” Miles snaps, his voice steady despite the slight tremble in his hands. “You’re the ones breaking the law. Killing people, operating like you’re untouchable. Someone’s gotta hold you accountable.”
I laugh, a short, sharp bark that makes the boy flinch.
“Accountable? You thinkyou’rethe hero here? You’ve got no idea what we do, what we stop,” I bark. “The Guard keeps people safe—people like you, safe in your cozy apartment with your stuffies and coloring books. The world ain’t all rainbows and laughter, boy.”
His eyes widen, and I know I’ve hit a nerve.
Good.
I need him off balance.
I step closer, looming over him, letting my size and presence do the talking. “You’re playing with fire, Miles,” I continue. “The kind that doesn’t just burn—it obliterates. You keep digging, and you won’t just lose your story. You’ll loseeverything.”
His jaw tightens, but there’s a flicker of fear in his eyes now.
He’s smart enough to know I’m not bluffing, but stubborn enough to push back.
“You can’t stop me,” Miles says, quieter now, but no less defiant. “The truth always comes out.”
I straighten, running a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to admire his fire. He’s not wrong—the truth does come out, but not the way he thinks.
The Guard’s truth is blood and shadows, not headlines.
I need him to walk away. I need him to believe he’s choosing it himself. If I can plant enough doubt, make him question his crusade, he might back off without me having to escalate.
Force won’t work with this boy; he’s too stubborn.
But persuasion? That’s my game.
“Listen closely, young man,” I say, my voice dropping to a growl, all Daddy, all control. “This is your one chance. Walk away. Delete your files, forget the Guard, and go back to your life. But… keep pushing, and the consequences won’t just be severe—they’ll be permanent. You won’t see us coming, and you won’t get a second warning.”
The boy’s breath hitches, and for a moment, I think I’ve got him.
But then he leans forward, eyes blazing.
“You think you can scare me into giving up? I’ve faced worse than you.”
I hold his gaze, letting him see the truth in mine. “No, you haven’t. But you will if you don’t stop.” I step back, giving him space, and gesture to the door. “Go.Now. Before I change my mind.”
Miles blinks, caught off guard. I can see the wheels turning—he expected cuffs, a fight, maybe worse.
Not this.
Not freedom.
I open the door, the hallway beyond dark and empty.
“Don’t make me regret this, Miles,” I warn.
The boy hesitates, then grabs his backpack, clutching it like a lifeline. His eyes dart to me, searching for the catch, but I just nod toward the hall.
Miles stands, his movements jerky, and walks out, his sneakers silent on the carpet. The door clicks shut behind him, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Then, stepping out from behind the door at the rear of the room, Henry reveals himself.
