Mira's POV
"Drive faster!" I scream.
Kieran's foot slams the accelerator. We're racing toward the warehouse district, chasing vans that hold Sophie and James. My hands shake as I stare at the photo of Adrian holding a gun to James's head.
"Adrian," I whisper. "He seemed so nice. So normal."
"That's how moles work." Kieran's voice is ice. "They blend in. Become part of your routine. Make you trust them." His jaw clenches. "I should have seen it. He had access to everything—your donation schedule, delivery times, building layout."
"How long has he worked for you?"
"Three years. Came highly recommended from a security firm in Boston." Kieran makes a sharp turn that throws me against the door. "A firm that Vincent probably owns under a different name. Adrian was planted in my organization specifically to get close to you."
The betrayal burns. "He always asked how I was doing. Helped me carry heavy boxes. Smiled like we were friends."
"He was studying you. Learning your weaknesses." Kieran glances at me. "But he underestimated you, Mira. Everyone does. They see this shy bookstore owner and think you're breakable. They don't see the strength underneath."
Three months ago, I would have dismissed those words as empty flattery. But now? Now I'm holding a gun and planning a rescue and refusing to be a victim anymore.
"There." I point ahead. "The vans are turning into that abandoned factory."
Kieran kills our headlights and follows at a distance. The factory looms against the night sky—broken windows, rusted metal, the kind of place where terrible things happen and nobody hears you scream.
We park behind a collapsed wall and approach on foot. Through a grimy window, I see movement inside. Flashlights. Voices echoing off concrete.
"Stay here," Kieran whispers. "Let me scout—"
"No." I grab his arm. "We do this together or not at all."
He looks at me for a long moment, then nods. "Together. But if shooting starts, you find cover. Promise me."
"I promise."
We slip inside through a side door hanging off its hinges. The factory smells like rust and decay and fear. Somewhere ahead, Sophie is crying. The sound rips my heart in half.
"Please," she sobs. "I don't know anything! I'm just her friend!"
A male voice—smooth and cold. Vincent. "Friendship is a weakness, my dear. Your friend abandoned you to save herself. Left you here to die. That's the daughter I raised—a survivor who understands sacrifice."
"You didn't raise her!" Sophie shouts, and I want to cheer for her bravery. "Her mother raised her to be kind! To care about people! That's why Mira will come back for me!"
Vincent laughs. "Then she's more foolish than I thought."
Kieran and I creep closer, using shadows and broken machinery for cover. Through the gaps, I see the scene: Sophie tied to a chair in the center of a vast empty space. Four armed men surrounding her. Vincent standing over her like a king surveying his kingdom.
And off to the side—James, also tied up, blood dripping from a cut above his eye. Adrian stands behind him, gun pressed to James's skull, looking bored.
"Where's Kieran?" Vincent asks Sophie. "Where did they go?"
"I don't know!"
Vincent nods at one of his men. The man slaps Sophie hard enough that her head snaps sideways. I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
Kieran's hand finds mine in the darkness. He squeezes once—a message. Trust me.
"I'm going to create a distraction," he breathes directly into my ear. "When they move, you get to Sophie. Cut her free. There's a knife in my left pocket."
"What kind of distraction?"
"The kind where I make myself the target." Before I can protest, he's moving away, melting into the shadows.
I watch him circle around the open space, positioning himself behind a pile of old barrels. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it.
Then Kieran's voice rings out, amplified by the empty factory: "Vincent Ashford! Your daughter sends her regards!"
Everyone spins toward the sound. Guns raise.
Vincent's face twists with fury. "Thorne. I knew you couldn't stay away. You're predictable when it comes to playing hero."
"And you're predictable when it comes to monologuing like a movie villain." Kieran steps into view on a metal catwalk above them, completely exposed. "Let them go. This is between you and me."
"No," Vincent says calmly. "This is between me and my daughter. You're just the obstacle I'm removing." He signals Adrian. "Kill the brother. Let Thorne watch his family die the way I watched mine."
"Wait!" I shout before I can stop myself.
I step into the light, gun raised but shaking. Every eye turns to me.
"Mira, no!" Kieran's voice cracks with panic.
But I'm already moving toward Vincent, my weapon trained on his chest. "Let them go. All of them. Take me instead. Isn't that what you want? Your daughter?"
Vincent's expression shifts from anger to something worse—satisfaction. "There she is. My Elizabeth's daughter. Finally showing some spine." He spreads his arms wide. "Come here, child. Come meet your father properly."
"Don't move, Mira!" Kieran shouts from above.
But Sophie is crying and James is bleeding and Adrian's finger is on the trigger. I have no choice.
I walk forward, each step feeling like betrayal of everything Kieran fought for. But I can't let them die. Not for me.
When I'm ten feet from Vincent, he smiles. "Drop the gun."
I hesitate.
"Drop it, or Adrian shoots James in the head. Your choice, daughter."
The gun falls from my hand, clattering on concrete.
Vincent closes the distance between us and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. Up close, I see my own eyes reflected back—the same green color, the same shape. The resemblance makes me sick.
"You look like your mother," he says softly. "She was beautiful too. Right up until the moment I had her killed."
Rage explodes in my chest. "You monster!"
"I'm a businessman. She stole from me. She paid the price." His grip tightens. "But you—you can still be useful. You're going to help me find what Elizabeth hid. The evidence she thought would destroy me. And if you cooperate, I might let your friends live."
"And if I don't?"
Vincent's smile is ice. "Then I'll make you watch while I kill them one by one. Starting with your precious stalker."
Above us, Kieran moves along the catwalk, looking for an angle. But Vincent's men track him with their weapons.
"Don't be stupid, Thorne!" Vincent calls out. "I have six guns pointed at people you care about. You have one shot. Math is not in your favor."
Adrian presses the gun harder against James's head. "Clock's ticking, boss. Want me to make this easier for you? One less person to save?"
"Adrian," Kieran's voice is deadly calm. "I gave you a job. Paid you well. Trusted you. Why?"
"Because Vincent offered me something you never could—a family." Adrian's mask slips, showing pain underneath. "You have James. You have this whole brotherhood thing. What did I have? I'm nobody's brother, nobody's friend. Just another employee. Vincent promised me I'd be part of something bigger."
"He's lying to you," James says through swollen lips. "Vincent doesn't have family. He has tools."
"Shut up!" Adrian's hand shakes.
"He'll kill you when you're no longer useful," James continues. "That's what he does. Ask Mira's mother how loyalty to Vincent worked out for her."
"I said SHUT UP!"
The gun goes off.
Time stops.
James slumps in his chair, and I can't tell if he's been shot or if Adrian missed on purpose.
Kieran screams his brother's name and jumps from the catwalk—a twenty-foot drop that should break his legs but somehow doesn't. He hits the ground rolling and comes up firing.
Chaos erupts.
Vincent's men return fire. Bullets spark off metal. Sophie screams. I dive for cover behind a concrete pillar, my ears ringing.
Through the chaos, I see Adrian standing frozen, staring at the gun in his hand like he doesn't recognize it. Like he can't believe what he's done.
Then Kieran is on him, moving with pure rage. The two men crash to the ground, fighting with brutal intensity.
"Go!" James shouts at me, blood streaming from his shoulder—wounded but alive. "Get Sophie and run!"
I sprint across the open space, expecting a bullet in my back any second. Sophie sees me coming and her eyes go wide with hope.
"I've got you," I gasp, working at the ropes binding her wrists. My hands shake so badly I can barely grip the knife.
"Mira, behind you!"
I spin just as Vincent lunges. His hand wraps around my throat, lifting me off my feet. Black spots dance in my vision.
"Foolish girl," he hisses. "Did you really think you could defy me?"
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can only claw at his hands.
Then Sophie, free from her ropes, swings a metal pipe at Vincent's head.
He drops me and staggers backward, blood pouring from his temple. His men rush toward us, but gunshots drive them back—Kieran, still fighting, still protecting us even while battling Adrian.
"Run!" Kieran roars. "All of you! RUN!"
Sophie grabs my arm and we stumble toward the exit, half-carrying James between us. Behind us, the fight continues—Kieran vs. Adrian, their friendship turned deadly.
We burst into the night air and keep running. Police sirens wail in the distance, getting closer. Someone must have heard the gunfire.
"Kieran," I sob, trying to turn back. "We can't leave him!"
"We have to!" James gasps. "He's buying us time. Don't waste his sacrifice!"
We reach Kieran's car and pile inside. James somehow gets the engine started despite his wounded shoulder. We're peeling away from the factory when my phone rings.
Unknown number.
I answer with shaking hands. "Hello?"
"Miss Holloway?" A woman's voice, professional and cold. "This is Detective Sarah Chen with the FBI. We have your bookstore under surveillance. We know about Vincent Ashford. And we need you to come in immediately."
"The FBI? How—"
"Your mother was working with us eight years ago. Before she died, she established a protocol. If Vincent ever found you, we were to be notified automatically. That notification was triggered two hours ago when you accessed her investigation room."
My mother. Still protecting me from beyond the grave.
"There's something else," Detective Chen continues. "We've been monitoring communications. Vincent just put out a kill order on Kieran Thorne. Every criminal in three states is now hunting him. And Miss Holloway? The bounty is ten million dollars. Dead or alive."
The phone slips from my numb fingers.
Kieran isn't just fighting for his life in that factory. He's fighting for survival against an army of killers who now want him dead.
And I just left him there alone.