I smile. Even in trivial exchanges, she's strategic—gathering intelligence before making her move. We're so alike.
Phoenix:Need help? We could hack the school, you know.
Fee:No, I'll take it later. Family issues.
My heart rate increases. Family issues, Moira.
Phoenix:Hope everything is good.
The cursor blinks. Fee doesn't respond right away. She's been skittish with Phoenix lately, perhaps sensing something off in our exchanges. I wonder if she's begun to suspect anything.
Fee:Everything is going to shit. I need to go see my sister. It'd be great if you could take the test now so you can tell me how hard it is.
Phoenix:I can do that.
Fee:Thanks, bye now.
I close the laptop. We'll be saying hello very soon.
Chapter 18
Vital Signs
Fee:
The stitches in my foot hurt with each step, but I can't slow down. I won't slow down. I need to get to my sister.
Anton keeps pace beside me, not touching but close enough that I feel the heat of him. His gun is drawn low against his thigh, shoulders squared, analyzing, preparing. His head moves in controlled sweeps that catalogue every corner, every person in our path.
The guards around the mansion mirror his tension. Rifles are now visible instead of concealed. Positions tightened. Eyes sharp.
Emergencies create opportunities. Windows of vulnerability when focus shifts and protocols break down. Someone watchingwould see our reaction to the pattern they created, the recent shooting at the boutique, Morrison's execution, the weapons shipment everyone suddenly wants. The pieces move faster when chaos hits. Predators hunt when prey is distracted.
And right now, with my sister in a medical crisis, we're all very, very distracted.
The more I've embedded myself in the darkness of my world, the more I see how trust is conditional. Safety is temporary. And when something goes wrong, you watch your back because someone's always waiting for the moment you drop your guard.
Anton, Yuri, and I spent the last hour mapping out contingencies and backup plans. He's worried about keeping me safe. But right now, I just care about my sister and my nephew being okay. Nothing else matters.
The mansion's atrium stretches before us, all marble and golden afternoon light. I hate how beautiful it is right now. How calm. Like the world isn't ending for my sister.
"Why the fuck didn't anyone call me sooner?" Lorenzo's voice slices through the space. I spin toward the entrance as he storms in, dragging one of his guards by the collar. The man stumbles, nearly falling. "You don't leave me in the dark about my own wife." Lorenzo's knuckles are bone-white against the guard's jacket. His voice drops to something deadly. "Someone better start talking, or I'm killing every single one of you."
Oh shit.
"Lorenzo." Dad emerges from the office downstairs, hands raised. "I called you immediately. But you need to breathe. Moira needs her husband right now. The father of her baby. Not the boss who's ready to burn everything down."
Lorenzo's stare could melt steel. Every muscle in his body is coiled tight, a bomb three seconds from detonating.
Then something shifts.
My father's words land. The mention of Moira cuts through his rage like a knife through smoke.
Lorenzo shoves the guard away and bolts for the stairs.
Dad's still standing there, arms still raised like someone is robbing him. He's watching the chaos unfold around him. Something else is bothering him. But I don't stop to talk or ask questions. I just move.
I hit the stairs, and my foot screams with every step. The crutches I left in the car. Anton's stitches better hold because I'm not slowing down.
