The wind outside howled like a warning.
Siena stood frozen in the hallway, the open front door yawning like the mouth of a beast. The chill swept in, curling around her legs and up her spine. A cold that had nothing to do with the weather.
Alexander reached the door first. He didn't touch anything—just scanned.
"Reeve!" he shouted into the night.
Nothing.
No response. No movement. Just darkness and wind.
Siena stepped closer, eyes darting to the floor. Muddy prints led inward—from the outside—but only one set.
Reeve's weren't among them.
"He didn't leave," she whispered. "He was taken."
Alexander's jaw clenched. He pulled out his phone. No signal.
"They killed the router."
He moved swiftly, checking the small console near the stairs—still dead. The security feed was offline.
"Backup generator?"
"Downstairs," Siena said, already heading to the basement.
But the breaker room was just as dead. The wires were slashed—deliberately. A clean slice. No animal, no storm. Someone had known exactly what they were doing.
They had been watched.
Siena turned toward Alexander, her heart hammering in her chest.
"We have to get out of here."
He nodded. "We don't know if they're still around."
"Reeve could be bleeding out somewhere—we have to—"
"Wait." Alexander held a hand up.
They both froze.
A soft thud upstairs.
Their eyes met.
"Stay here," he said, voice low.
"No."
"Siena—"
"I'm not leaving you."
He didn't argue again. Instead, he pulled a flashlight from the drawer near the kitchen and handed her a smaller one. They moved together, slowly, each step calculated and carefully.
The thud came again—closer this time. Above them. In the guest bedroom.
Alexander raised the flashlight. Siena followed behind, heart racing, her other hand clenched into a fist.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar.
Alexander pushed it open with his foot.
Empty.
"Check the closet," Siena said.
He opened it fast—nothing. Just the emergency bags Reeve had packed.
Then—another sound.
Not from the room.
From the attic.
There was a soft scuffling noise—then a creak, like someone stepping wrong on old wood.
Siena pointed upward. "Attic."
Alexander nodded, moving toward the narrow stairwell hatch in the hallway ceiling. He climbed carefully, his flashlight leading.
Siena waited just beneath.
He opened the hatch slowly.
The light revealed boxes. Dust. Cobwebs. Old furniture.
And—
A flash of movement.
Alexander ducked just as a pipe swung through the air. It missed him by an inch.
He dropped the flashlight and reached up, grabbing the attacker's arm and yanking them forward.
A man tumbled down from the attic, hitting the floor hard. He groaned, clutching his side.
Alexander pinned him instantly.
Siena rushed over.
The man wasn't armed.
But he was bruised. Blood on his shirt. A gash on his forehead. And Siena recognized him instantly.
"Jasper?"
The reporter coughed, wheezing. "They're everywhere. Holden's men—he knows where your safehouses are. All of them."
---
Jasper wasn't supposed to be here.
Siena sat beside him in the living room minutes later as he gulped down water.
He explained everything in gasps.
"They grabbed Reeve. I don't know how—they were in the van with me. Took him right off the road, then started chasing me. I ran through the woods. I didn't know where else to go."
"You found this place?" Alexander asked.
Jasper shook his head. "No. I had the backup address Reeve gave me two weeks ago in case anything ever went wrong. I've been off-grid since yesterday. Then I saw the lights here—I thought I was too late."
Alexander frowned. "They're not just reacting anymore. They're planning. Preemptive strikes."
"They don't want information leaked," Jasper said. "They want everyone who knows anything—gone."
Siena's breath caught.
That included her. And Alexander. Everyone who had seen the files.
"They're not going to stop," she murmured. "This isn't about cleaning up. This is war."
Alexander stood up, already pacing. "We need to go dark. Burn phones. No electronics. And we need to split up."
"No," Siena said firmly.
"We'll be harder to track—"
"We're stronger together."
"Siena—"
"I mean it. If we split up, we're giving Holden exactly what he wants. To isolate us. Pick us off."
Alexander stopped pacing. Looked at her.
Then he nodded.
"We stay. But we move. We find another base. This one's compromised."
Jasper looked up. "I know a guy. Ex-cybersecurity. Lives upstate, completely off the grid. He owes me a favor."
"You trust him?" Siena asked.
"With my life."
Alexander considered it. "Then he's our next move."
---
They drove through the night, Jasper guiding them through backroads and forest paths that barely qualified as roads. Siena sat in the backseat beside a duffle bag of hard drives, flash drives, and a thick manila folder of printed evidence.
The further they drove, the more she felt the tension in her chest loosen.
For a while.
The safe house was a cabin in the woods. No power lines. No neighbors. No cameras.
Just trees. Silence. And a man named Carter.
Tall, scruffy, and ex-military. He didn't say much—just gave them blankets, food, and a password to the private, encrypted satellite system he used to stay in touch with the outside world.
"You've got two days," he said. "After that, I go dark."
That was enough.
---
In the early morning hours, Siena stood on the wooden porch, watching the mist roll in over the trees.
Alexander joined her with two mugs of coffee.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Then Siena asked, "Do you think Reeve's alive?"
Alexander stared ahead. "Yes. I have to believe he is."
"And if Holden tries to use him against us?"
"He won't get the chance."
Siena looked at him. "He's already taken so much."
"I know."
"I keep thinking about how this started. I just wanted answers. Justice for my father."
Alexander looked at her then. "You got more than you asked for."
She nodded. "Yeah. A war. A fake fiancé. And you."
He smiled faintly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
She leaned against his shoulder.
"You were never just a fake," she whispered. "Even when I tried to convince myself you were."
He put an arm around her. "Same."
They stood in silence, watching the sun rise between the trees. Light spilled onto the porch, catching the edge of Siena's hair.
And in that moment—just for a heartbeat—it felt like peace.
A real, fragile peace.