Celeste was still staring at the gun in Antonio’s hand when he went to the bedroom, grabbed a duffel bag, unzipped it, and started throwing things inside—fast, rough, without looking at anything he picked.“Antonio,” she said.He didn’t answer.“Antonio, wait.”He shoved the drawer open so hard it hit the wall. Socks, shirts, a knife sheath, a folded passport—everything went into the bag.Celeste stood at the door, arms folded tightly across her chest. “You’re doing too much.”“I’m not doing enough,” he said, tossing in another shirt.“You haven’t slept.”“I don’t need sleep.”“You haven’t eaten.”“I don’t need food.”“You haven’t thought this through.”Antonio zipped the bag violently. “I’ve thought enough.”She stepped forward. “You only just left Valen’s office. Your hands are still shaking.”Antonio looked down at them. They were shaking.He clenched them hard. “Doesn’t matter.”“It matters if you’re about to fly to another country.”“My daughter might be in danger.”“You don’t kn

Antonio slammed the door. The sound reverberating through the empty street. Celeste stiffened, gripping the edge of her seat. He circled the car, eyes dark, jaw tight, the tension in his shoulders palpable enough to taste. When he slid into the driver’s seat, the silence was suffocating, thick with a kind of heat that could ignite at any second.The engine growled, a predator announcing its readiness, and the car lurched forward.“You didn’t have to talk to me like that,” Celeste said, voice low but sharp.“You didn’t have to act like a reckless idiot either,” Antonio snapped, fingers tightening on the wheel. “Think this is a game?”“It’s not a game, but you act like breathing wrong puts the world at risk!” she shot back, turning toward the window, jaw tight.His eyes burned on the road. “I’m keeping us alive. That’s the difference between you and me.”“Oh, so screaming orders makes you ‘alive’? That’s your version of survival?”He flicked a glance at her, hard, like he could slice th

The security office door slammed shut behind them.Antonio didn’t flinch, but Celeste did. Not from fear—no. From irritation.She hissed. “Beautiful. Perfect. Exactly what we needed. Another delay.”Antonio ignored her and faced the three officers blocking the exit.Officer 1 crossed his arms. “We asked nicely the first time. You refused. So here we are.”Celeste muttered under her breath, “Clowns.”Antonio lifted a brow. “What exactly is the problem?”Officer 2 held up a tablet. Their faces stared back. “You both were flagged entering the airport at high speed. Reckless. Suspicious. And the system placed a red mark on your identities.”Celeste scoffed. “What system? What mark? That thing is older than my secondary school sneakers.”Officer 2 glared. “Ma’am, cooperate.”Antonio cut in, voice flat. “What do you want?”Officer 3 eyed him. “Information. You two matched a description from an earlier alert.”Celeste rolled her eyes. “Which alert?”“You don’t get to ask the questions.”Anto

The meeting room was silent except for the low hum of the projector Xavier wasn’t looking at. Numbers and charts flickered across the screen but his attention was anchored to the two men standing at the door, shifting uneasily like schoolboys afraid to speak.Xavier finally lifted his gaze.“Say it again,” he said.His voice wasn’t raised. It didn’t need to be. The weight of it made both men straighten instantly.The taller one swallowed. “We… we can’t locate Antonio, sir.”Xavier leaned back slowly, fingers interlocked behind his head, expression unreadable.“And Celeste?” he asked.“No confirmation on her either.”He stared at them for several seconds. Not blinking. Not moving. Just watching them crumble under the pressure.“Teacher is dead,” Xavier said, as if stating a weather report. “I get that message this morning. A thirteen-second voice note from a man who has never used a voice note in his entire life. And now… nobody knows where he is.”The shorter man stepped forward caref

Xavier had been pacing the length of Amber’s private study for close to ten minutes before she finally convinced him to sit, but the moment he lowered himself into the chair, he realized stillness did absolutely nothing to soften the storm inside him. If anything, it sharpened everything—every thought, every suspicion, every frustration he had been trying to swallow since the moment his men delivered the information he still wasn’t sure how to process.Teacher was dead, but Antonio hadn’t killed him alone.Antonio had killed him while invoking Xavier’s name, twisting it, leveraging it, weaponizing it as if he had the right to pull Xavier into the line of fire without warning or consent.And Antonio hadn’t even told him.Xavier’s jaw tightened again. He stared at the fireplace as though it were responsible for the insult, but nothing eased the pressure building in his chest.Amber watched him from across the room. She was seated, legs crossed, arms resting lightly on the chair’s polish