Vass didn't rush.
He never did.
While Vienna slept under a cold wash of early dawn light, Moritz Vass sat in his private study, a room so still it felt like time avoided it. The curtains were half-drawn, leaving a thin blade of light cutting across the desk where he sorted files with surgical calm.
He didn't look like a man hunting someone.
He looked like a man waiting.
A knock broke the silence.
"Enter," he said without looking up.
His right-hand man, Rainer, stepped in. Tall, lean, eyes too sharp for comfort.
"We traced the movement," Rainer said. "Regent's men picked up activity last night. Leonardo was seen leaving District Eight with the girl."
Vass finally lifted his gaze.
"The girl," he repeated. "Do we know who she is yet?"
Rainer hesitated. "Not fully. But she matches the age range. And the profile."
Vass shut the folder gently.
"Which profile?"
Rainer swallowed.
"The witness."
A thin, cold smile touched Vass's lips — an expression that never reached his eyes.
"So," he murmured, "the ghost finally found a body."
Rainer shifted uneasily. "If she is the witness, then Leonardo"
"is no longer controllable," Vass finished for him. "And that makes the girl invaluable."
He stood, buttoning his coat with deliberate slowness.
"Prepare the car," he said. "If Leonardo has found her, he will protect her. Which means he will make mistakes."
"Where do we start?"
Vass picked up a single photo from the folder — a grainy shot of Amira walking into a café weeks ago, before any of this began.
He studied it calmly.
"We start," he said, "with an offer he cannot refuse."
Amira hadn't slept.
The morning light crept through the curtains of Leonardo's penthouse, soft and golden, but it didn't chase away the heaviness in her chest.
She sat on the edge of the couch, legs pulled close, pendant clutched tightly in her hand.
Leonardo stood a few feet away, pacing, phone in hand, tension rolling off him in waves.
He stopped only once — when he noticed her staring at him.
"You should eat," he said quietly. "You've been sitting there since dawn."
"I'm not hungry."
He frowned.
"Amira."
She looked down at the pendant again.
"You kept this for so long," she said softly. "Even when you didn't know my name."
Leonardo's eyes softened, but he didn't move closer.
"I kept it because Matteo gave it to you," he replied. "Because the night he died… it fell from your neck when I carried you."
She swallowed a knot of emotion.
"Do you think Matteo would hate me for surviving?" she asked suddenly.
Leonardo froze.
"No," he said firmly. "He would be relieved. Matteo wanted you out of that world more than anything."
Amira nodded slowly.
"You were both boys," she said. "Children thrown into things that destroy grown men."
Leonardo didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The silence said enough.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced at it and every line of his body went rigid.
Amira straightened.
"What is it?"
Leonardo didn't speak. His jaw tightened as he read the message once… twice… then locked the screen.
"Leonardo?"
He finally looked at her eyes darker than she had ever seen.
"Vass," he said. "He wants a meeting."
Amira's heart dropped.
"When?"
"Now."
"About what?"
She already knew the answer.
"You."
Their eyes held — fear tightening her chest, anger tightening his jaw.
"How did he know?" she whispered.
Leonardo exhaled sharply. "He knows everything. Or he pretends to until he forces the truth out."
Amira stood.
"Then let's go."
"No," Leonardo said immediately. "I'm going alone."
She stepped forward. "I'm the one he wants."
"Yes," he said tightly. "Which is why you're not going anywhere near him."
She crossed her arms.
"You said I stay by your side."
Leonardo swallowed the words hitting him harder than she expected.
"That is not what I meant."
"It's what you said."
His voice dropped. "Amira, Vass doesn't negotiate. He dismantles people. He'll use your past, your fear… your memories. You're not ready for that."
She lifted her chin.
"I won't be ready if you keep hiding me."
Leonardo stared at her — frustrated, protective, terrified — and finally dragged a hand through his hair.
"Why are you like this?" he murmured.
"Because I'm tired of being a ghost in my own life."
That silenced him.
A long moment passed.
Then Leonardo's phone buzzed again, vibrating insistently on the table.
He checked it, jaw tensing.
"He sent an address," Leonardo said. "An abandoned conservatory near the river."
Her breath tightened. "That sounds like a trap."
"It is."
"And you're going."
"I have to."
Amira stepped closer.
"Then take me."
"No."
"Leonardo—"
"No," he repeated, voice steady this time. "If Vass gets one look at you, he'll never stop hunting you. I need to know what he wants before he knows where to strike."
She opened her mouth to argue again but then a knock echoed through the penthouse.
A quiet, deliberate knock.
Not urgent.
Not afraid.
Just present.
Leonardo's entire body snapped to attention.
"Stay behind me," he whispered.
Her pulse raced, but she obeyed.
He approached the door slowly, gun drawn, every muscle tight.
He opened the door a crack.
A single envelope sat on the mat. No person in sight. No footsteps. Nothing.
Leonardo picked it up and shut the door quickly.
"What is it?" she asked.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of her.
Not from the café. Not from Vienna.
From years ago.
A little girl dirty cheeks, tangled hair, wary eyes standing near a crumbling orphanage wall.
A.M. scribbled on the back.
Amira's knees weakened.
"That's me," she whispered.
Leonardo inhaled sharply not with surprise, but with fury.
She reached for the photo.
"What else is inside?"
He pulled out a second picture.
This time, his expression changed.
Then hardened.
"Leonardo…?"
He turned it around.
It was Matteo.
Lying in an alley.
Moments after he died.
The angle made it clear who took the picture:
Vass.
Amira covered her mouth.
Leonardo stared at the image, eyes burning with a rage that made the room feel too small.
She touched his arm gently.
"Leo—"
He didn't move.
Then he flipped the photo over.
A message was written on the back.
"Come alone. Or she replaces him."
The room went silent.
Too silent.
Amira felt her entire body go cold.
"Leonardo," she whispered. "He knows."
"Yes."
"He knows who I am."
"Yes."
"And he's threatening to—"
"Yes," Leonardo said, voice low, controlled, dangerous. "He's threatening to kill you."
A beat of silence.
Then Leonardo grabbed his coat.
"We're leaving," he said.
"We?" she asked softly.
He met her eyes and for the first time since she met him, there was no conflict, no hesitation, no fear.
Just decision.
"You stay with me," he said. "I don't care what Vass wants. I'm not walking into his trap alone, and I'm not letting him take you."
Amira exhaled shakily.
"Then we face him together," she said.
Leonardo nodded once.
And that was that.
The conservatory looked dead.
Vines strangled the walls. Cracked glass windows reflected a pale, washed-out morning. The entire place felt like something that had once been beautiful, now left to rot.
Leonardo stepped inside first, gun ready.
Amira stayed close enough to feel the warmth of his coat against her arm.
The air inside smelled like dust and old music.
Piano keys lay broken on the floor, violin strings tangled like abandoned webs.
And in the center stood Moritz Vass.
Alone.
Calm.
Waiting.
"Leonardo," Vass greeted, voice smooth like someone welcoming an old friend. "You took long enough."
Leonardo remained silent.
His silence was never empty. It was a blade.
Vass smiled.
"And you brought her. Good."
Amira's stomach twisted.
Vass's gaze slid to her not hungrily, not cruelly, but with interest. As if she were a puzzle piece he had been looking for.
"So," Vass said softly. "The girl who disappeared."
Leonardo stepped in front of her.
"You don't speak to her."
Vass chuckled. "You're protective. I expected that."
Leonardo raised his gun slightly. "Say what you want."
"Straight to business. Good." Vass clasped his hands behind his back. "I want her."
Leonardo's jaw tightened. "No."
"You haven't heard my offer."
"There is no offer."
Vass's eyes gleamed.
"I will make it simple. Give me the girl. And I will give you freedom."
Leonardo's grip on the gun tightened.
"Explain."
"Your father," Vass said, pacing slowly, "has kept you on a leash since you were a child. He forged you into a weapon because he feared what you would become without him. I can remove that leash."
Leonardo didn't blink. "You're lying."
"No," Vass said calmly. "I am offering a trade. You give me the witness. I give you control of what the Regent built. Power. Autonomy. Your own kingdom."
Amira felt her breath stutter.
Leonardo didn't even look at her.
"You think I want your kingdom?"
"You want a life," Vass replied. "And you cannot have one with her. You know this."
Amira's heart twisted painfully.
Vass continued, voice slow and unhurried.
"The girl is a risk. A liability. A memory you cannot bury. She makes you weak."
Leonardo finally lifted his gaze.
"She makes me human."
Vass smiled coldly. "Exactly."
He stepped closer.
"You were not made to be human, Leonardo. You were made to lead."
Leonardo lifted the gun higher.
"Last chance," he said quietly. "Say what you want and walk away."
Vass's voice dropped to a whisper.
"I want the girl. And I always take what I want."
The world moved fast after that.
Vass reached into his coat.
Leonardo fired.
Glass shattered.
Birds exploded from the rafters.
Dust rained down from the ceiling.
Amira screamed his name.
Leonardo grabbed her arm, pulling her behind a fallen pillar as bullets ricocheted through the conservatory.
Vass had guards hidden on the upper balconies rifles aimed with icy precision.
"Stay down!" Leonardo ordered.
Amira crouched low, heart pounding so hard she felt it in her teeth.
Leonardo fired upward, covering them as he moved her toward a side exit.
Glass shattered inches above her head.
Vass's voice echoed across the room:
"You can't protect her forever, Leonardo!"
Leonardo didn't respond.
He shoved open a side door, dragging her through.
They ran.
Down the cracked hallway.
Past rusted doors.
Across broken tiles.
Vass's footsteps followed — slow, steady, unhurried.
Predator and prey.
Leonardo slammed the exit door behind them and pulled her into the street.
"Get in," he said, pushing her toward the car.
"But—"
"Amira, get in!"
She obeyed.
He climbed in beside her and hit the accelerator.
The car shot forward.
Amira looked back.
Vass stepped out of the conservatory, hands calmly in his pockets, watching them leave as if they were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Leonardo's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
"He's not stopping," Amira whispered.
"No," Leonardo said. "He never stops."
She turned to him.
"What do we do?"
Leonardo's jaw set with grim, unwavering determination.
"Now?" he said. "Now we call my father."
Amira stared at him.
"You said the Regent wouldn't help."
Leonardo nodded once.
"He won't help," he said. "But he hates Vass more than he hates me."
The car sped across the bridge.
Amira swallowed.
"And what will he do when he finds out who I am?"
Leonardo didn't look at her.
His voice was quiet.
"He'll decide whether you are a weakness…"
He finally met her eyes.
"…or a weapon."
Amira's pulse stumbled.
"And what do you think I am?" she whispered.
Leonardo didn't hesitate.
"You," he said, "are the reason I'm choosing a different war."
The city blurred around them.
Vass's shadow stretched long behind them.
And Amira finally understood:
This wasn't just about the past anymore.
This was a fight for the future.
Their future.