I got up after hiding Clara and Yeager in the toilet and then turned around to go and kill the three assassins whom were laughing at us. I took out my two daggers from my tights.
And then,with all my power l jumped up high onto one in the three of them, and stabbed him by the nape. His body immediately fell down.
"What do you think you are doing?"
The other guy was going to shoot Dorian,and with no hesitation l through my other dagger at him in the forehead.
I got down and sled down, knocking down the other guy who was about to open the door.
"That was fast..." I signed getting up and that's when l felt the ankle twist somehow and l felt a surge of pain up my leg but l brushed it off coz l had to leave the room immediately and go to another one for a disguise.
"Am sorry Nyx, l was so reckless to open the door just like that." Dorian said getting up from where he was laying down on the ground unconscious.
" It's okay,but for now lets focus on leaving." I patted at the back of his back and we exchanged simple looks and then proceeded to go to the bathroom where l had locked the Reiss family.
I went back to the bathroom.
I don't know what I expected—fear, tears, maybe Clara clinging to Yeager the way she had before—but what I saw instead stopped me cold.
There was a man standing inside with them.
Alive. Calm. Familiar.
For half a second my body reacted before my mind did. My hand moved toward my thigh automatically, muscles tightening, pulse spiking—
Then he turned.
Liam.
Out of all the people in the world.
He looked at me like this was a normal Tuesday inconvenience. Relaxed. Hands in his pockets. Not a scratch on him. Clara stood off to the side with Yeager, confused but unharmed, and somehow that made the whole thing even more unreal.
"What," I said slowly, every word edged sharp, "are you doing here?"
He smiled. Actually smiled. Like he'd just run into me at a café instead of the aftermath of an attempted execution.
"Easy," he said. "Lower the murder stare. You already handled that part."
I stared at him, trying to connect the dots, failing miserably.
"You were supposed to be off-grid," I said. "Cassie said—"
"I know what Cassie said," he cut in, still maddeningly calm. "I was coincidentally on the ship."
"Coincidentally," I repeated flatly.
He shrugged. "Sometimes the universe has a sense of humor."
I didn't laugh.
We stepped out of the bathroom together, Clara and Yeager staying inside while I closed the door gently behind them. My eyes never left Liam's face, like if I blinked he'd vanish.
As we walked down the corridor, he finally explained.
"I was walking the upper deck," he said, voice low now, professional, "when I heard three men talking. Not loud, but wrong. Code-switching accents. Wrong posture. They clocked the room number before they split."
My stomach tightened.
"So you followed them," I said.
"Of course I followed them," he replied. "They threw the tear gas before I could intercept, so I took the vents. Figured I'd flank or evacuate if things went sideways."
I looked at him then—really looked—and saw the faint grime on his sleeve, the scuff marks on his shoes. He hadn't just been watching.
He'd been ready.
Before I could say anything else, Dorian appeared at the end of the corridor like he'd been summoned by the tension alone. His expression didn't change when he saw Liam—just a brief nod of acknowledgment between two men who understood danger without needing to name it.
"I'll take care of the bodies," Dorian said calmly. "Clean it. Delay any alarms."
I turned to him. "You're sure?"
He nodded. "You shouldn't stay here."
Then he looked at Liam. "Take them somewhere public. Somewhere noisy."
Liam gave a short nod. "Already thinking the same thing."
Dorian didn't wait for thanks. He turned and disappeared back down the corridor, already slipping into the shadows like he belonged there.
Liam glanced at me. "Come on. Let's relocate."
We guided Clara and Yeager out carefully, moving with the flow of passengers instead of against it. We headed downstairs, aiming for another suite—but when we reached the level, the hallway was blocked.
Music drifted through the air. Warm. Rich. Elegant.
A sign near the stairwell read:
Grand Evening Ball — Third Floor
The corridor was flooded with people. Men in tailored suits. Women in gowns that caught the light like liquid glass. Laughter. Perfume. Crystal clinking against crystal. Everyone moving in one direction, pulled toward the same spectacle.
I exhaled slowly.
"Well," I muttered, "that complicates things."
Liam scanned the crowd once, fast and sharp. "No empty rooms until this clears. Security will be focused here."
I looked at him. "So what's the play?"
A corner of his mouth lifted. "We blend."
I raised an eyebrow. "Into a ball."
"Yes," he said easily. "You clean up well."
I shot him a look, but he was already guiding us forward, keeping Clara and Yeager shielded between us as we merged into the crowd. We slipped into the ballroom unnoticed, swallowed whole by chandeliers and music and silk.
It was massive—high ceilings, gold accents, live musicians at the far end. Couples danced. Others stood in clusters, laughing, flirting, pretending the world was harmless.
We took a quiet corner near one of the columns. Liam disappeared briefly and came back with drinks—juice for Yeager, water for Clara, something amber for himself, and something clear for me.
"Sit," he said softly. "Relax your shoulders. You look like you're about to interrogate the chandelier."
Against my better instincts, I sat.
The music washed over us. My muscles slowly unclenched. Clara held Yeager, rocking him gently as his breathing evened out again. For a moment—just a moment—it felt like we were invisible.
Liam leaned back beside me, sipping his drink.
"See?" he murmured. "Sometimes the safest place is right in the open."
I didn't answer, but I didn't argue either.
For now, we stayed there—hidden in plain sight—waiting for the night to move on, for dusk to come, for the next opening to appear.
And somewhere deep in my chest, the tension stayed .