Ethan's shoulder slammed into Lily's sternum with enough force to drive them both sideways as the bullet that should have killed her buried itself in the wall where her head had been half a second ago.They hit the ground together in a tangle of limbs and adrenaline, and Ethan was already moving—rolling, dragging her with him behind the minimal cover of an overturned sofa that wouldn't stop armor-piercing rounds but might buy them three seconds to not die."MOVE!" His hand found a door she hadn't seen—servant entrance, narrow and dark and currently the only thing between them and execution. He kicked it open with violence that shattered the lock, yanked Lily through, slammed it shut behind them.The stairwell was concrete and shadows, spiraling downward into darkness that felt like drowning.They descended at a pace that was half running, half controlled falling—Lily's foot caught on a step and she stumbled forward, momentum carrying her toward a collision with stone that would break

Darkness swallowed Lily whole.Not the comfortable darkness of closed eyes or dimmed lights, but absolute black—thick and suffocating, pressing against her face like a living thing trying to force its way into her lungs.Her breathing echoed off concrete walls too close on either side, each gasp amplified into something that sounded like panic given voice. Behind the sealed wall, gunfire still erupted in muffled bursts—distant thunder promising storms she couldn't see but could feel in her bones.Lily's hands found rough concrete, fingers scraping against texture that was cold and unforgiving. She forced her legs to move forward even though every instinct screamed to turn back, to pound on the wall until Ethan opened it, to face death together instead of surviving alone.Her phone came out with trembling hands. She jabbed at the screen—no signal. Of course no signal. Underground, sealed in a tunnel built for escape, cut off from everything except the darkness and her own ragged breath

The static cleared like fog burning away under sunlight.One second Lily was staring at dead screens, throat raw from screaming, hands bruised from pounding monitors that wouldn't answer. The next, the feeds flickered back to life in a cascade of blue-white light that felt like resurrection.Her breath stopped.There—center screen—Ethan stood over Jackson Volkov's body like a monument to violence barely survived. The pistol in his hand still smoked, barrel pointed at the floor where the professional killer lay sprawled in spreading crimson. Volkov's eyes were wide with something that looked like disbelief, like even in death he couldn't accept that someone had been faster, deadlier, more willing to cross the final line."Impossible..." The word escaped Volkov's lips as a whisper, as a final breath, as an admission that he'd underestimated his target and paid the price people only paid once.Then his chest stopped moving.Ethan swayed on his feet, and Lily saw it—blood soaking through

"These give you controlling interest in three of Ethan's shell companies. Which coincidentally gives me controlling interest through you. Sign them, and we both walk away with a fortune. Refuse, and I release evidence that YOU hired Jackson Volkov to fake an assassination attempt and frame Vivian for it.""That's insane! No one will believe—""Won't they?" Rebecca pulled out another folder, this one containing bank statements with Lily's name, wire transfer records showing payments to offshore accounts, email correspondence that looked damning as hell despite being completely fabricated."Two hundred fifty thousand dollars transferred from an account in your name to Volkov's shell corporation three weeks ago. Another payment scheduled upon 'successful completion.' Text messages between you and an encrypted number discussing 'removing obstacles' and 'making it look real.'" Rebecca's smile was vicious. "I'm very good at forgery, darling. And prosecutors love a good revenge plot—scorned

Six of them. Maybe seven. Hard to count through smoke and red emergency lighting.And walking behind them, completely at ease, Victoria Blackwell stepped into the room like she was entering a board meeting instead of a war zone.She looked different than the last time Ethan had seen her—harder, colder, wearing confidence that came from knowing the deck was stacked and she'd helped stack it."Hello, darling." Her voice was honey poured over razor blades. "Miss me?"Ethan's weapon tracked her center mass but didn't fire. Not yet. "How did you get out?""Rebecca has friends you can't imagine. People who make your Ghost Protocol look like children playing soldier." Victoria's smile was terrible. "She sends her regards, by the way. And a message—if you want your little girlfriend back alive, you'll come quietly.""Where is she?""Somewhere you'll never find without Rebecca's permission. Somewhere she's been preparing for fifteen years specifically for this moment." Victoria gestured to her