The muffled sound of Clara’s breathing was the only thing anchoring me in the middle of the chaos. The warehouse was filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder and dust, the echo of gunfire still reverberating through the steel walls. My body pulsed with adrenaline, every muscle tense as I gripped my gun tightly.
Marcelo was slumped near a stack of metal crates, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Evelyn was still alive, crouched behind a container, furiously working on her laptop to intercept enemy communications.
And Richard…
He was standing there, wearing that damn smirk, watching everything unfold as if he had already foreseen it.
And then, when the last gunshots faded and the scent of blood hung heavy in the air, he made his move.
“You really thought you could take me down this easily, Bela?”
My jaw clenched. “I don’t see you walking away unscathed.”
Richard let out a low, cruel chuckle, raising his arm to reveal a deep gash on his side. But he didn’t look concerned. He looked pleased.
“You underestimate me,” he murmured, stepping back. “And that’s why I’ll always be ahead of you.”
It was only then that I realized.
Leo.
He wasn’t here.
Richard saw the change in my expression and grinned even wider.
“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?” He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “You thought you lured me into a trap, but in reality, I brought you here.”
My heart stopped for a second.
Then I heard the muffled scream coming from one of the darkened corridors.
Leo.
Clara looked at me, and in that instant, we both knew.
This wasn’t a victory.
This was an execution.
“We need to get out of here!” Evelyn yelled, typing frantically on her laptop.
But Richard was already fading into the shadows, and his men were closing in on the exits.
Marcelo struggled to his feet, still clutching his bleeding shoulder, but his gun was steady.
“Which way?” I asked, locking eyes with Clara.
She scanned our surroundings quickly before pointing toward the overhead metal beams.
“The air vents,” she said.
Evelyn was already moving, grabbing her gear while Marcelo held off the incoming men.
“Go, now!” he shouted.
I grabbed Clara’s hand, pulling her up as we climbed onto the crates leading to the vents. It was cramped, filthy, but it was our only chance.
Marcelo was the last to climb, but not before firing a final shot, buying us precious seconds.
The problem?
Leo was still down there.
And we had no time to go back.
We barely made it to the getaway car, our lungs burning, our minds racing with everything that had gone wrong.
Clara collapsed into the seat beside me, pressing a rag to the cut on her arm. I could see the tremble in her fingers, the way she was trying to control her breathing.
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Clara exploded.
“That was the dumbest plan ever, Bela! We almost died! AGAIN!”
I took a deep breath, turning to face her. “You think I wanted this to happen? I did the best I could!”
“And now Leo is in his hands!” she yelled, her eyes flashing with frustration and fear.
I swallowed hard. That stung. Because she was right.
“I know,” I muttered, looking away. “But I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always think you have to fix everything alone!”
There was something raw in her voice, something broken, that made me look at her again.
She wasn’t just angry.
She was scared.
For me.
For everything that was happening.
And before I could even process it, she grabbed my face and kissed me.
It was desperate, urgent—like a current of electricity surging through my spine.
My hand slipped to her waist, holding her tightly against me. The world around us disappeared—no gunfire, no danger, just us.
Just the fear of losing each other.
When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, her breathing unsteady.
“I can’t lose you,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her words.
“You won’t,” I promised.
But even as I said it, I knew it was a promise I might not be able to keep.
Evelyn cleared her throat from the backseat, breaking the moment.
“Hate to interrupt,” she said, “but… we have a problem.”
Clara and I turned to her.
She spun her laptop around, showing us a live broadcast.
My stomach twisted painfully.
It was Leo.
Tied to a chair, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
And standing beside him, holding a phone, was Richard—staring directly at the camera with a slow, wicked smile.
“Congratulations, Bela,” his voice echoed through the speakers. “You managed to escape… but you forgot something important.”
He grabbed Leo’s chin, forcing him to look at the camera.
“I never lose.”
Then the video cut out.
Silence.
Marcelo cursed. Evelyn slammed her laptop shut.
Clara looked at me, her face pale.
“Bela…”
My breathing was heavy.
My fists clenched.
If Richard wanted a war…
He was about to find out that I never played to lose.