The night air felt heavier the moment Amira stepped out of the warehouse.
Not colder.
Not windier.
Just heavier. As if the world itself understood the weight of the name she had just heard.
The Regent.
Leonardo's father.
A man powerful enough that even a former government operative the man who never slept lowered his voice when speaking of him.
The quiet street stretched ahead in long, shadowed lines. Streetlamps buzzed faintly, casting pale pools of light on the cracked pavement. The wind tugged at her coat as she walked beside the man whose real name she still didn't know.
They moved quickly, turning corners and cutting through narrow paths until they reached a black car parked along the curb. He held the passenger door open for her.
"Get in," he said. "It's a long drive."
She hesitated. "Where exactly are we going?"
"To the edge of the city," he answered. "Past it, actually."
"And The Regent… he's there?"
"No," he said, closing the door after she climbed in. "But someone who works for him is."
Not reassuring.
Not comforting.
But she didn't pause.
Because every step forward even toward danger felt like a step closer to Leonardo.
The engine hummed as they pulled onto the empty road. Prague's lights slowly faded behind them, shrinking to a soft glow in the distance. Soon, only the night remained.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Amira broke the silence.
"What kind of man is he?"
The driver didn't look at her.
He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead.
"Dangerous," he said simply. "More dangerous than the Syndicate, more dangerous than anyone you've met."
"That's vague."
"It's the best kind of warning."
She turned her gaze to the window.
"Is he involved in Leonardo's disappearance?"
"Involved?" the man said. "He's the reason Leonardo can't stay in one place for more than a week."
Her heart clenched. "Why would his own father chase him?"
He exhaled slowly.
Exhaustedly.
"The Regent doesn't chase him," he said. "Leonardo avoids him."
"Why?"
"Because his father wants him back."
She blinked. "Back? As in return to the Syndicate?"
"No," the man said. "Back as in reclaiming the son he considers unfinished."
A chill ran through her.
"Unfinished how?"
"Leonardo didn't complete what he was trained for," he said quietly. "He didn't become what his father built him to be."
She stared at him.
Then at the darkness rushing past outside.
She imagined Leonardo strong, decisive, dangerous standing in front of a man even more powerful. A man who had shaped him. Controlled him. Weaponized him.
A father who saw him not as a son…
But a project.
A tool.
Her stomach twisted.
"What does The Regent want from me?" she asked softly.
The man shook his head. "Nothing. He doesn't know you. Let's keep it that way."
"But I'm going to meet someone who works for him."
"Yes," he said. "And that alone is already too much."
She swallowed hard.
"What do I need to do?"
"Listen," he said. "Stay quiet. Don't argue. Don't act brave. Don't try to prove anything."
She frowned. "You're saying that like I'm reckless."
"I'm saying it like someone who has watched The Regent tear down stronger people than you without lifting a hand."
The car slowed as they approached a long stretch of abandoned countryside.
Fields.
Ruins of old barns.
No houses.
No sound.
Nothing but darkness and fog.
After another fifteen minutes, the headlights revealed a narrow private road framed by tall iron gates.
The gates opened on their own.
A cold knot formed in her stomach.
He drove through.
The road curved upward toward a tall building perched on the hill a mansion that didn't look lived in, only guarded. Darkened windows. Stone walls. A single lantern burning above the entrance.
When the car stopped, he turned off the engine and looked at her.
"This is your last chance to change your mind."
"I'm not changing it."
He sighed once, deeply, like the decision pained him.
"Then remember what I said."
They stepped out of the car.
The night thickened around them.
A tall man in a long coat opened the door before they could knock. He looked at Amira with a cold, assessing stare, then at her companion.
"You shouldn't have brought her."
"She insisted," the sleepless man replied.
The guard's expression didn't change. "That's not how this place works."
Amira stepped forward before she could think twice.
"I need information."
The guard's eyes shifted to her again, but this time he almost smirked.
"You're bold."
"I'm not here to be intimidated."
"You're already intimidated." He leaned slightly closer. "You're just hiding it."
She didn't deny it.
No point.
He stepped aside. "Come in."
Her companion followed closely behind her as they moved into a long, dim corridor lined with portraits of men who looked like they'd never smiled in their lives.
The building smelled faintly of tobacco and old books.
They were led into a small room with a round table. A bottle of whiskey sat in the center, untouched. A single chair faced them.
"Sit," the guard instructed.
Amira sat.
The sleepless man stood beside her.
After a moment, another door opened.
A man walked in.
Not The Regent.
But someone who carried his shadow.
He was older, with grey hair cut short, a face sharp as sculpted stone, and eyes that showed nothing. Not warmth. Not anger. Not recognition.
Just neutrality.
He sat across from her.
"You're Amira," he said. "The one causing trouble."
Her pulse quickened. "I'm just trying to find someone."
"So I've heard." He folded his hands. "The Regent also heard."
Her throat tightened.
"He knows about me?"
"Only that you exist," the man said. "And that you're… interfering."
"I'm not interfering," she said. "I'm searching."
"For Leonardo," he replied.
Not a question.
A statement.
Amira nodded.
The man studied her like he was trying to see past her skin.
"What makes you think you can handle what he left behind?"
"I'm not trying to handle anything," she said. "I'm trying to reach him."
"He doesn't want to be reached."
"I don't believe that."
"Belief," the man said, "is irrelevant."
The sleepless man stiffened at her side.
The older man continued.
"You want answers. So listen carefully." He leaned forward slightly. "Leonardo does not run from enemies. He runs from himself. He runs from what he becomes when people he cares about are in danger."
Her chest tightened.
He continued.
"The Regent is not searching for Leonardo to punish him. He's searching to bring him home."
"That's not home," she whispered. "That's a cage."
The man's expression didn't flicker.
"Home is whatever The Regent decides it is."
A cold, sick feeling swept through her.
"Where is Leonardo?" she asked.
The man looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said, "Do you know why the Syndicate still fears him?"
She didn't answer.
"Because he is the only one who ever left and still knows how to dismantle them," the man said. "The Regent trained him that way. And Leonardo your Leonardo was his masterpiece."
Amira felt her heart twist painfully.
"And what does he want from me?" she asked.
The man finally leaned back in his chair.
"Nothing."
She blinked. "Then why am I here?"
"To warn you," he said. "Because The Regent does not like loose ends."
A sharp breath left her.
"Loose ends?"
"You're involved with Leonardo. That makes you his distraction. His weakness." The man's voice stayed steady. "If you continue this path… you will not just find him."
Her body went cold.
"You will force The Regent to notice you."
Silence suffocated the room.
"What happens then?" she asked.
The man's eyes hardened for the first time.
"He removes anything that threatens Leonardo's focus."
Amira swallowed.
"So you're saying he'll come after me."
"No," the man corrected calmly. "He'll come after everything you love first. You are the last piece he touches."
Her breath shook.
Not fear something deeper.
Anger.
Resolve.
Defiance.
She lifted her chin.
"I don't care."
"You should."
"I don't," she repeated. "Because I'm not walking away."
The man regarded her with a long, quiet stare.
Then he stood.
"This is the only help you will receive. The only warning you'll get." He paused. "If Leonardo finds you… he'll run again."
"Then tell me where he is so I can stop him from running."
The sleepless man glanced sharply at her, but the older man didn't react.
"You want an answer?" he asked.
"Yes."
He stepped closer close enough that she felt the coldness coming off him like air from a crypt.
"Then listen," he said quietly. "Leonardo is headed north. Toward the border. Toward the place he swore he would never return to."
"What place?"
"A fortress," the man said. "A house made of memories and blood."
Amira's pulse sped.
"The Regent's old estate?"
The man nodded slowly.
"By dawn," he said, "he will be there."
Amira stood.
"Then I'm going too."
The man looked almost disappointed.
"Then," he said softly, "you have chosen your own destruction."
He tapped the table twice a signal that the conversation was over.
The guard returned and gestured toward the door.
Amira walked out without waiting. Her heart hammered, her mind raced, her chest ached with a fear she refused to admit.
Outside, the sleepless man caught her arm.
"This is madness," he said firmly. "You don't understand what you're walking into."
"Yes," she said, pulling her arm free. "I do."
"No," he insisted, stepping closer. "You don't. You think you're ready, but you're not. You think you can save him, but he's walking into a place built to crush him."
"I don't care."
"You will."
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"If he's going into hell, then I'm going there too."
He stared at her long, searching, almost helpless.
Then he exhaled.
"Fine," he whispered. "But don't say I didn't try."
She turned toward the car.
The wind howled across the hill, cold and sharp, blowing her hair across her face. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
The dawn would arrive in a few hours.
And Leonardo
Leonardo would be walking into the one place he feared most.
His father's kingdom.
The Regent's shadow.
And now Amira's path led there too.
She opened the car door.
"Take me to the border," she said.
The man who never slept hesitated.
Then he nodded.
"We go," he answered.
The car roared to life.
And Amira stared straight ahead
toward the darkness waiting for her.