By the time Amira reached the northern edge of Prague's Old Town, the air had shifted. The wind had a bite to it sharp, restless, carrying the kind of cold that warned of danger long before danger arrived.
The city lights glimmered across the river, their reflections trembling on the dark surface of the Vltava like scattered shards of broken glass. She stood for a moment on the bridge, staring at the ripples below, feeling the weight of Leonardo's final message pressing against her ribs.
I'm not running from them.
I'm running from what they'll do to you.
She tightened her coat around her.
Too late. They were already circling her like wolves.
And Leonardo… despite his silence… was still watching.
Somewhere.
Her phone buzzed again not a message this time, but a location notification she didn't remember enabling.
A red dot blinking on her map.
She frowned.
"Anonymous ping? That's new."
It led to a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city industrial, quiet, the type of place where crime blended into the concrete.
She hesitated only a second.
Then she started walking.
The Warehouse District 11:48 PM
The further she went, the more the world around her emptied out. No tourists. No late night wanderers. Just old metal buildings, rusted doors, and streetlamps that flickered like dying candles.
Her footsteps echoed.
She stopped outside a long-abandoned textile warehouse. The red location pin blinked harder, like whoever sent it wanted to scream through her screen.
Amira didn't go inside immediately.
She circled the building, watching from the shadows, listening for movement.
Then she heard it.
A grinding sound slow, metallic coming from the upper floor.
Followed by a voice.
A man's voice.
Low. Controlled. Commanding.
Not Leonardo's.
This voice belonged to someone entirely different.
She found a side entrance half blocked with old wooden crates. Pushing them aside, she slipped in.
The smell hit her first.
Dust. Metal. And something else something chemical.
Something sharp.
Her instincts screamed, but she kept moving.
The sound of footsteps approached from above.
She climbed the stairs quietly, keeping her hand close to the strap where her hidden blade rested.
The upper floor was lined with broken machinery and wooden tables. Moonlight poured through cracked windows, slicing the darkness into uneven stripes.
A man stood near the far end of the room.
He wasn't hiding.
He wasn't armed.
He was simply… waiting.
Tall, muscular, dressed in dark clothing that fit him too perfectly to be casual. His hair was short, his jaw tense, his posture too controlled to belong to a normal citizen.
He turned slightly when she stepped into view.
"You made good time," he said calmly.
She stiffened. "Who are you?"
He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "Someone who doesn't sleep. Not anymore."
Her eyes narrowed. "That doesn't answer my question."
He faced her fully then, stepping into a sliver of moonlight.
His eyes were unsettling not dead like the Syndicate messenger from earlier, but exhausted in a way that felt carved into his bones. He looked like a man who had fought a war no one else had noticed.
"You're Amira," he said. "Leonardo's weakness."
Her blade was in her hand before he finished the sentence.
"Say that again," she warned.
Instead of fear, amusement flickered in his expression.
"Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it at the door."
She didn't lower the weapon.
"Tell me who you are. Now."
He sighed and reached slowly into his jacket. She reacted instantly
"Don't pull anything !"
But he only took out a badge.
A real one.
Government issue. European task force.
Classified division.
Her breath stilled.
"You're law enforcement?"
"I used to be," he corrected. "Now I'm something else."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm chasing the same ghost you are." He took a step closer not threatening, but heavy with purpose. "Leonardo."
Her heart clenched around his name. "You know where he is?"
"No," the man said. "But I know where he was before he vanished again."
She took a slow step forward. "And you brought me here because?"
"Because you need to understand the kind of danger you're in." His voice hardened. "And the kind of man you're chasing."
Her jaw set. "I know exactly the kind of man he is."
"No," he said quietly, "you don't."
She sucked in a breath at the certainty in his tone.
"Then enlighten me."
He hesitated a strange flicker of doubt crossing his expression.
"You won't like what I'm about to say."
"Try me."
He looked away briefly, almost as if gathering strength, then faced her again.
"Leonardo wasn't just part of the Syndicate," he said slowly. "He was one of their architects."
Amira's stomach dropped.
"What?"
He stepped closer, voice low and steady.
"He built some of their operations. Trained their early enforcers. Designed several security protocols. He wasn't just in the Syndicate." A pause. "He helped shape it."
Her breath stilled.
No.
No, that couldn't be true.
"He left them," she whispered. "He risked everything to get out."
"Yes," the man said. "But he had reasons for that too."
Her pulse pounded painfully.
"What reasons?"
The man exhaled. "His brother."
Her heart jumped. "Leonardo doesn't have a "
"Yes," he cut in. "He does. Younger. Recruited. Manipulated. Used as a pawn. Leonardo tried to save him."
"And?"
The man's jaw tightened.
"They killed him."
Silence crashed into the room so hard it hurt.
Amira felt her knees almost buckle.
Leonardo had never told her.
Not once.
Not even a hint.
The man's voice softened not gently, but with the heaviness of someone who'd carried the truth too long.
"That was the moment he broke the pact," he said. "The moment he stole the archive. The moment he stopped caring if he lived or died."
Amira swallowed painfully.
Her throat stung.
"He ran," she whispered. "To protect himself."
"No," the man said. "He ran to avenge his brother. And to destroy the Syndicate from the inside out." He paused. "Alone."
She felt tears burning behind her eyes.
"And you…" she said shakily, "who are you in all this?"
He gave a tired smile.
"I was his handler. His partner. His friend. And the last person he trusted before he disappeared."
She stared at him, stunned.
"You're the one they call 'The Man Who Never Sleeps aren't you?"
His expression didn't change.
"I don't sleep because I can't," he said softly. "Not after what I've seen. Not after what I've done trying to fix this mess."
Amira lowered her blade.
Slightly.
Not fully.
But enough.
The man continued.
"Leonardo didn't want you involved," he said. "He told me once that you were the only good thing that survived his past. The only person who didn't ask him to become a monster."
Her breath caught.
He looked at her with something almost like pity.
"But if you keep going," he said, "you'll force him to face the one thing he's terrified of hurting."
"Me," she whispered.
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them, thick and painful.
Finally, she inhaled sharply.
"Then tell me how to find him."
"You're not listening," he said. "If you love him—"
"I do."
The man closed his eyes for a moment, as if the answer physically weighed on him.
Then he reopened them.
"Then don't follow him."
She shook her head.
"No. I won't leave him alone in this. Not when he's breaking himself to protect me."
He clenched his jaw.
"This path doesn't end well."
"Maybe not for me," she said, "but I'm not letting it end badly for him."
The man studied her truly studied her for several long seconds.
Then he lifted his hand and pointed toward the far window.
"Fine," he said. "If you're determined to throw yourself into hell I'll show you the first gate."
"What's there?"
"A name."
She felt her chest tighten again.
"What name?"
"The one man Leonardo fears," he said slowly. "The one man who knows how to find him. The one monster even the Syndicate doesn't touch."
Amira's fingers curled at her sides.
"Who?"
He turned fully toward her.
Eyes dark.
Voice steady.
Expression grave.
"His father."
Amira froze.
Her heart missed a beat. Maybe two.
Leonardo's father?
Alive? Involved? Dangerous?
The man nodded slowly, almost mourning the truth.
"He calls himself The Regent now. And if you want to find Leonardo" He swallowed. "You'll have to walk straight into that man's kingdom."
A chill slithered down her spine, cold enough to cut through her bones.
But she lifted her chin.
Then nodded once.
"I'm ready."
The man looked shattered for a split second.
Then he whispered:
"No one is ever ready for The Regent."
If you want, I can continue immediately with: