Chapter 49 The Sacrifice
Time didn’t stop.
It stretched.
The red laser dot burned into Alessia’s chest, perfectly centered, right over her heart. She felt it there, like heat against skin. Like a promise.
She could hear the mercenary breathing through the scope. Slow. Controlled. She could almost feel the pressure of his finger tightening on the trigger.
One second.
Maybe less.
Liam saw it.
His eyes widened in raw, naked terror. “Alessia—”
She moved.
Not backward. Not toward cover.
Up.
She pivoted, lifting her weapon in one smooth, instinctive motion, following the laser back to its source. The catwalk. A shape barely visible in shadow.
She didn’t need a clear shot.
She just needed the flash.
It came, the muzzle flaring as the mercenary fired for her heart.
But she was already twisting, already pulling the trigger.
Her bullet hit a fraction of a second before his.
The mercenary’s shot screamed past where she’d been standing, sparking violently off steel.
Hers didn’t miss.
The man jerked backward, rifle slipping from his hands, clattering over the railing before his body followed. He hit the concrete with a sound Alessia would never forget.
She spun back toward Liam.
And froze.
Thorne was on his feet.
Somehow, despite the blood, despite the broken nose, he’d moved. A small revolver was in his hand, drawn from an ankle holster she hadn’t seen.
At this distance, it didn’t matter how small it was.
The barrel was aimed at Liam’s head.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance,” Thorne said, voice wet, blood running freely down his face as his finger tightened on the trigger.
Everything collapsed into a single moment.
Alessia’s weapon was pointed the wrong way. She couldn’t turn fast enough. Couldn’t fire in time.
Liam was still on the ground, one hand clamped to his bleeding shoulder, his gun lying just out of reach where it had fallen.
They were going to watch him die.
Except—
Liam’s free hand moved.
Fast. Deliberate. Despite the pain. Despite the blood loss.
He pulled something from his belt.
A knife.
Old. Worn. Familiar.
The blade Declan had given him.
He threw it.
The motion was instinct, muscle memory carved into him over years. The knife spun through the air.
And buried itself in Thorne’s throat.
Thorne’s eyes went wide. His finger spasmed on the trigger—
But his aim was already gone.
The bullet struck concrete three feet from Liam.
The gun fell from Thorne’s hand as both of his went to his throat, trying failing to stop the blood. A horrible, wet sound clawed out of him.
His eyes locked on Alessia.
Hate. Shock. Disbelief.
He tried to speak.
Nothing came but blood.
His body jerked once. Twice.
Then went still.
Marcus Thorne, FBI Senior Agent, traitor, murderer, died choking on his own blood on a factory floor he thought he controlled.
Alessia stood there, frozen, staring at the man who had shaped her life through fear and lies.
“Alessia…” Liam’s voice was faint. Fading. “We need to… move…”
He slumped.
“Liam!” She was with him instantly, catching him before he hit the floor. “Stay with me. Stay with me!”
His eyes were glassy. Unfocused. “Tired…”
“I know. I know. But you have to stay awake. We have to get out of here”
A sound cut through her words.
Click.
Then—
Beeping.
Her blood turned to ice.
She looked around, instincts screaming. There, near the support columns. Small devices. Red LED displays counting down.
Bombs.
“No,” she whispered.
The beeping sped up.
00:02:47
00:02:46
00:02:45
Insurance. A failsafe. Kill everything if the plan failed.
“Liam.” She grabbed his face, forcing his eyes open. “Bombs. We have to move. Now.”
He tried to nod. His body didn’t listen.
He was dead weight.
Two hundred pounds of injured muscle.
Two hundred yards to the exit.
Less than two and a half minutes.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself, voice breaking. “Okay.”
She pulled his arm over her shoulder, wrapped an arm around his waist, and hauled him upright. He groaned, head slumping against her.
“Stay with me,” she begged, staggering forward. “Just stay with me.”
One step.
Another.
00:02:15
Smoke crept into the factory, not from explosions yet, but from fires already burning. Her eyes burned. Her lungs screamed.
She kept going.
Liam’s feet dragged uselessly, his weight threatening to pull them both down.
“Come on,” she gasped. “Your sister needs you. Your family needs you. I need you. Don’t you dare die on me.”
00:01:48
Flames licked higher. Smoke thickened.
She could barely see. Barely breathe.
Her shoulder, still injured, sent white-hot pain through her body with every step.
She didn’t stop.
00:01:20
“Almost there,” she wheezed, though she wasn’t sure. “Just a little more.”
His legs gave out completely.
Now it was all on her.
She screamed, hauling him forward, refusing to let go.
00:00:58
The exit came into view.
Fifty feet.
Forty.
Smoke swallowed everything.
00:00:45
“MOVE!” she screamed, voice tearing apart.
Thirty feet.
00:00:30
Twenty.
Liam’s eyes fluttered. “Lex…”
“Save it. Hold on.”
00:00:15
Ten feet.
The building groaned. Metal warped. The countdown screamed toward zero.
00:00:08
Five.
She threw herself forward, dragging him through the exit door into the cold night air.
00:00:05
She pulled him farther. Muscles tearing. Vision swimming.
00:00:03
Not far enough.
00:00:02
She covered him with her body.
00:00:01
The factory exploded.
The blast lifted them off the ground, fire and pressure swallowing everything. They hit the ground really hard. Debris rained down—metal, concrete, flame.
Then—
Nothing.
Or maybe her ears were screaming too loud to hear anything else.
Alessia lay there, body on fire, lungs burning.
Liam was too still beneath her.
“No,” she whispered, hands shaking as she searched for his pulse. “No. Please.”
There.
Weak.
Barely there.
But alive.
She collapsed beside him, exhaustion finally claiming her.
Behind them, the factory burned and collapsed, erasing everything inside.
Everyone except them.
She held his hand, gripping tight.
“We made it,” she whispered through tears. “We made it.”
He didn’t answer.
His pulse weakened.
He was still dying.
She pulled out her phone.
No signal.
She looked around, empty street. No help. No one.
Just fire behind them.
And the terrible truth settling in her chest:
She had saved him from the explosion.
But she might still lose him to the bullet slowly stealing his life away.