The sea roared beneath the prow like a caged beast.
The wind clawed at the waves, swelling them until they shattered against the jagged rocks of the island ahead.
Ethan's boat, an old military vessel disguised as a fishing craft, rocked lazily in the shadows, anchored behind a hidden ridge invisible to the naked eye.
Leo had been standing for hours, motionless, his eyes glued to the binoculars. The pale morning light split his face in two, half illuminated, half in shadow. Every line of his features was taut, every breath measured and restrained.
Beside him, Ethan lowered the thermal scope and whispered,
"Jesus, Leo… it's like looking at your reflection. Every movement, every look… even the way he walks. It's you."
Leo didn't answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the figures moving down at the dock, where the wind tangled itself with the foam of the sea.
Damian stepped off the boat first, dressed in dark tactical gear, walking like someone born in the dark.
Behind him was Naiara. Small, fragile, her jacket too big for her trembling frame. Damian grabbed her wrist: not gently, but with the authority of a man who owned her.
Leo's chest tightened. His voice came out low and rough:
"We're only alike on the outside. Inside… there's nothing that connects us."
Clara, standing next to them, followed the scene with a mix of fear and anger.
"Poor Nay…" she murmured. "God knows how terrified she must be. And what your brother has done to her."
Leo opened his mouth to respond, then froze.
A detail, small but lethal, sliced through his composure.
While walking, Naiara had brushed Damian's arm. A fleeting touch. Barely noticeable.
A gesture intimate enough to destroy him.
Leo lowered the binoculars slowly, his pulse hammering.
"She thinks he's me," he said, interrupting Clara.
"He made her believe it. He's gained her trust… maybe even more than that."
Ethan frowned. "How can you be so sure?"
Leo turned toward him, his green-gray eyes darker than the storm overhead.
"Because I know her. I know her gestures, her pauses… She touches him the way she'd touch me."
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.
Clara's hand found Leo's arm. "That doesn't change anything. She's been deceived, Leo. She's scared and confused. You have to bring her back. You fight for her. This isn't her fault."
Leo exhaled sharply. Inside, his fury grew, not wild and loud, but controlled, cutting deep. It wasn't just jealousy. It was something darker, rooted deep in his bones.
The thought that Damian might have touched her, kissed her, loved her under his face, his voice, it was unbearable.
Ethan understood without a word.
"First we save her," he said quietly. "Then you can deal with everything else."
Leo nodded once, forcing his mind to focus.
Through the binoculars, he studied the compound, the guard towers, the fences, the shadows between the lights. Every motion memorized, every route planned.
"They've reinforced security," he muttered. "But the north side is open, old pipelines, wide enough to crawl through. Ethan, you take care of the cameras. Once the feed goes down, we move. Clara, you stay here. If we're not back in two hours, sail away."
Clara shot him a sharp look. "Don't even try, Leo. I'm not leaving without you. I'm not leaving anyone behind."
He gave her a faint, weary smile. "I know you. But if things go bad… save yourself."
She didn't reply, just folded her arms, her blond hair whipping in the wind.
Ethan checked his gear, then asked,
"And what about your brother? If he's there, what then?"
Leo clenched his jaw. "I know how Damian fights. If he sees me, he'll understand that I'm not here to negotiate. He won't back down, not ever. But from the way she's standing beside him…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I know he'll protect her. Because she still believes he's me."
Clara's throat tightened. "And you? What will you do when you're face to face with them?"
Leo didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed on the island, where Damian's dark figure disappeared beyond the ridge.
"I'll do what I have to do," he said at last. "He wants to destroy me, Clara. And he used her to do it."
The words hung in the air like a vow: heavy, unbreakable.
Below them, the sea seemed to hold its breath.