Gunfire echoed once in sharp and controlled bursts, then silence slammed down like a vault door. Emilia was still crouched behind the long table, her nails dug into her palms as her eyes locked on the blacked-out monitor feeds. There was nothing, no movement and no sound except the low electronic hum and her own ragged breathing.
She forced herself to count. One Mississippi , Two Mississippi ... On ten, the stairwell camera flickered back to life.There she saw two bodies sprawled on the landing, their dark suits were twisted with blood pooling under them like spilled ink.
But there was no sign of Ethan.
The private elevator light blinked red and was still ascending from the lobby.
Her stomach knotted. She whispered into the open comm line. "Ethan?"
Static hissed back. Then his voice returned low, steady and edged with something darker than before.
"Two down, one's left in the elevator. Stay exactly where you are."
She didn't answer. She couldn't because the words got stuck in her throat.
Then she heard footsteps now, they were slow and deliberate, approaching from the corridor outside. It wasn't hurried or panicked rather it was moving like someone who knew they had time.
Then, the penthouse door eased open again.
Emilia's heart stuttered.
A woman stepped inside.
This was not one of Derek's hired muscles, she wore a charcoal pencil skirt, cream silk blouse and her hair pulled into a flawless low chignon. She carried a slim leather folio under one arm and a small black device in the other, it looked like a signal jammer. She moved with the calm confidence of someone who belonged in boardrooms, not shootouts.
She closed the door behind her without looking back.
Then she spoke softly, almost gently.
"Emilia. You can come out now. It's just me."
Emilia's blood turned to ice.
She knew that voice.
Alexa.
It was her best friend. The calm one. The voice of reason. The one who'd squeezed her hand at Wang's Deli and said, "You're not alone in this, Em. Not even for one second." The memories came crashing down on her.
Emilia stayed hidden, her knees locked against the table leg, she was barely breathing.
"I know you're here. I've been watching the feeds. The cameras you didn't see. The ones I helped Carla install in her apartment two nights ago 'just in case,' remember?" Alexa said as she tilted her head, scanning the room like she could sense her.
It was her usual soft laugh; familiar, affectionate only that now it was laced with something venomous.
"I told Derek you'd run to Blackwood eventually. He didn't believe me at first, he said you were too scared. Too broken. But I knew better. I've known you since we were fifteen. I know exactly how your mind works when the stakes get high." she said as she chuckled slowly.
Emilia's vision blurred with hot tears as she pressed her fist to her mouth to keep the sob inside.
Alexa walked farther in, her heels clicking on the marble. She set the folio on the table right next to where Emilia had been sitting minutes ago and opened it.
Inside were printed screenshots of the Signal messages she'd sent Ethan. Timestamps. Attachments. Even the failed delivery notification.
"I rerouted your traffic, making sure nothing reached him until I wanted it to. Besides, Derek needed time to move pieces so I gave it to him." Alexa continued, her voice conversational.
She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. A live feed appeared. It was Carla's apartment. Emilia could see Carla seated on the couch, her wrists zip-tied, duct tape over her mouth, her eyes wide with fury and betrayal. A man in a black hoodie stood behind her, his pistol pressed to the back of her head.
Emilia's nails broke through the skin on her palms.
"Carla fought harder than I expected. She always did have that fire, but fire burns out eventually." Alexa sighed.
She looked towards the table, straight at where Emilia hid.
"Come out, Em. Let's talk. You know...? Like old times."
Emilia didn't move.
Alexa's expression softened, becoming almost tender. "You think Blackwood iss your savior? He's not. He's a hammer looking for nails. And right now, you're the shiniest one. So while Derek wants you back alive, Blackwood wants you to be useful. But Me? I just want this to end without more blood on my hands."
She paused.
"I did it for us, for every single one of us. I mean, Wallace Holdings was sinking and Alan was going to lose everything; his health, his house, his pride. The Carsons simply offered a lifeline and I took it. For you. For Carla. For me." she continued quietly
Emilia's chest heaved as silent tears tracked down her face.
Alexa stepped closer. "I can still fix this. If you come with me,Derek will let Carla go and he'll let your father keep enough to live on. You'll finally be safe and we can all walk away from all of it."
She extended her hand, palm up, her manicured nails gleaming.
The same hand that had held hers in the deli booth.
Emilia stared at it.
Then she rose slowly, her legs shaking from behind the table.
Alexa's face lit with relief. "There you are."
Emilia took one step forward.
Two steps.
Then she stopped.
"You forgot something, Lex." Her voice came out raw, barely above a whisper.
Alexa tilted her head. "What?"
Emilia's hand slipped behind her back, where Ethan had pressed the compact stun gun into her palm before he left the room.
She thumbed the safety off.
"I never trusted anyone completely. Not even you."
She lunged as the stun gun crackled its blue arcs snapping between the prongs as she drove it into Alexa's side.
Alexa's eyes went wide as her body jerked once, twice, she gasped and then collapsed to the floor in a heap, the folio spilling papers everywhere.
Emilia stood over her, the stun gun still buzzing as her chest kept heaving.
The penthouse door burst open.
Ethan strode in, his shirt torn at the shoulder and blood streaking his left forearm, the knife still in his right hand. His gaze flicked from Alexa's unconscious body to Emilia.
He didn't speak, rather he crossed the room, cupping the back of her neck, he pulled her against him. It was hard, brief, fierce.
"You okay?" he murmured into her hair.
She nodded against his chest as she couldn't form the words.
When he released her, he crouched beside Alexa and checked her pulse. "Alive. Good. We need answers." he murmured.
He zip-tied her wrists with practiced efficiency, before looking up at Emilia.
"She's been feeding them everything, since the very beginning." he said
"She said… she did it for us." Emilia replied, her voice cracking.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "She did it for herself."
He stood up, wiped the blade clean on his torn sleeve before sheathing it.
Then he froze.
The tablet on the table had lit up; new alert.
A single live feed: It was Derek's study.
Derek sat at his desk, smiling at the camera. Behind him was Alan Wallace; his face looked pale and frail with his wrists bound to the chair arms which were being fitted with what looked like a heart-rate monitor collar, as wires trailed to a small black box on the desk.
Derek leaned forward, spoke directly to the lens.
"Hello, Hammer. Hello, sunshine."
He tapped the box once, a soft beep followed.
Then a timer appeared on the screen: 00:59:59.
It was counting down.
"You have sixty minutes to bring her back or her father's heart stops. Permanently." Derek said as his smile widened.
The feed cut to black.
Ethan's hand closed around Emilia's wrist, firmly and protective.
"Time's up," he said quietly.
Emilia stared at the blank screen, deep seated rage and terror twisting into something unbreakable.
She met his eyes.
"Let's go get my dad."
Ethan nodded once, sharp and decisive.
But as they turned toward the door, the tablet chimed again.
One final message.
From Alexa's phone which was now unlocked on the floor.
A single photo attachment.
It was Carla, she was bound, gagged and her eyes looked terrified.
And scrawled across the image in red text:
"She's already dead if you're late."
Emilia's knees buckled but Ethan caught her just in time.
But the timer kept ticking.
59:42.
59:41.
59:40…