119
The living room hummed with quiet preparation.
Devon was checking comms with the two ex-FBI agents, speaking in low, professional tones. Julius paced near the window, phone to his ear, murmuring last-minute legal contingencies. The duffel bags were zipped. The SUV was idling downstairs, its lights glowing like twin moons beneath the night sky.
Katherine stood by the hallway mirror, adjusting her jacket—one of Devon’s spares, a little big on her, but she didn’t care. Her face looked drawn and pale beneath the dim apartment light, but her eyes burned with resolve.
She didn’t hear Carolina approach until her voice broke through the quiet.
“Katherine.”
Katherine turned. Carolina stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over her hoodie. Her ankle bracelet peeked from beneath her sweatpants. Her curls were pulled back in a high bun, her expression guarded, but her eyes gave her away.
They were full of worry.
Katherine walked over, trying to smile but failing.
“Hey.”
Carolina leaned against the wall, arms still folded. “You ready for this?”
Katherine hesitated. “I don’t know what ready looks like anymore.”
Carolina exhaled a laugh. “Fair.”
They stood in silence for a few moments, the hum of the city beneath them, the low murmurs of the men fading into the background. Then Carolina spoke again, quieter this time.
“I hate that I can’t come with you.”
Katherine looked at her, her heart softening. “You’ve done more than enough, Caro. This whole plan exists because of you.”
“I know,” Carolina said. “But it doesn’t feel like enough. Not when my best friend’s walking into a literal memory-erasing lab to save the man who nearly ruined her life.”
Katherine’s eyes glinted. “You make it sound so insane when you say it out loud.”
“It is insane,” Carolina said with a snort. Then her voice softened. “But I get it.”
Katherine swallowed. “Do you?”
“I do,” Carolina said. “You love him. In spite of everything. And you’re still fighting for the version of him that remembered you. That chose you. That laughed in your kitchen and danced with you barefoot at midnight.”
Katherine’s eyes welled. “I don’t know if he’ll ever be that version again.”
Carolina stepped forward. “Then we go get him before that version disappears forever.”
Katherine looked down. Her fingers were shaking. “What if I get there and he doesn’t remember me? What if they’ve already started something on him? What if he looks at me like I’m a stranger?”
Carolina reached out and held her shoulders. “Then you remind him. You look him in the eye and say, ‘I’m the woman who found you on the side of the road. I brought you soup. I fought for you when you were broken. I loved you when you couldn’t love yourself.’ And if he doesn’t remember…” Her voice cracked slightly. “You tell him anyway. Because even if he forgets, you won’t. And sometimes, love is just that. Reminding someone who they are.”
Katherine let out a shaky breath, tears trailing silently down her cheeks.
Carolina pulled her into a hug—tight, real, the kind that said everything words couldn’t.
“I don’t care what happens in that lab,” Carolina whispered fiercely. “You come back to me. Promise me that.”
Katherine nodded against her shoulder. “I promise.”
They stayed like that for a moment longer—just two women holding each other before the chaos. One stays behind with an ankle bracelet and a hacker’s number. The other walks into the unknown with only hope and desperation as armor.
When they finally pulled apart, Carolina swiped at her eyes and cleared her throat.
“You'd better come back with a dramatic story. I want fake IDs, laser beams, and you swinging from the ceiling.”
Katherine let out a teary laugh. “Deal.”
Carolina stepped back, grinning shakily. “Now go get your man.”
Katherine turned just as Devon called out, “We’re rolling in five.”
She took one last look at Carolina—their journey, their sisterhood, all in that glance—then walked out the door and down the stairs, her heart pounding like a war drum.
The night was dark. Staten Island waited.
And Katherine was ready.
The SUV rolled silently through the darkened highway, its matte-black finish blending with the thickening night. Staten Island stretched ahead like a sleeping beast, waiting. There was no music. No small talk. Only the low hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain brushing the windshield.
Malik Bryant sat at the wheel, both hands steady at ten and two. His thick frame leaned slightly forward, eyes on the road, scanning for anything unusual. His silence wasn’t cold; it was professional. Efficient. He didn’t waste words.
In the front passenger seat, Ryan Marks flicked through a slim digital tablet, blue light casting sharp angles across his face. His jaw was tight, his tone clipped when he finally muttered, “Thirty minutes out. We hit the perimeter dead-on. You all remember the plan.”
“Get in. Locate Kingsley. Get out,” Malik rumbled, never taking his eyes off the road.
In the backseat, Katherine sat rigid, both hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her leg bounced uncontrollably, and her nails dug small crescents into her palms. Her breath was shallow. Unsteady. She’d tried to keep her cool back at the apartment, but now, with every mile taking her closer to the lab where Kingsley was being held, the weight of it all was catching up.
Next to her, Devon noticed. He gently placed a hand over hers.
“Katherine,” he said softly.
She turned, eyes glossy, and tried to smile. Failed.
Devon gave her hand a slow squeeze. “Hey. We got you, okay? You’re not alone in this.”
Her fingers trembled beneath his touch. “Devon… I can’t shake it. The thought of him locked up in some cold room, drugged, strapped down, and I’m just sitting here.”
“I know,” he said gently, eyes holding hers. “But this isn’t just on you. We’re all in this now. Malik, Ryan, and I, we’re doing this because we believe in getting him back. And we’re going to. Tonight.”
Katherine blinked rapidly, trying to will the sting in her eyes away. Her voice wavered. “If anything happens to any of you, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to us,” Devon said firmly.
“You don’t know that.”
He gave her hand another firm squeeze, grounding her. “Then let’s promise each other right now—look out for ourselves and each other. No hero plays. No recklessness. Just smart moves. Quick extraction. We walk out together. All of us.”
Katherine nodded, her jaw tight. “All of us.”
“You’ll see him again,” Devon said. “And he’ll remember you. Because even if they try to take his memories, they’ll never touch what’s in his heart.”
A soft breath escaped her lips—a tiny thread of relief. “Thank you, Devon.”
He offered a small smile, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “If it were the other way around, Kingsley would be in this car for me. No question.”
Malik’s voice broke in from the front. “ETA: six minutes. Get ready.”
Ryan straightened, his voice calm but alert. “Surveillance blackout starts at the ten-minute mark. We’ll move quickly. Weapons are non-lethal unless forced otherwise. Masks on as soon as we breach the inner perimeter.”
Katherine reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her mask, staring at it for a second before slipping it into place. The material was lightweight, black, and snug. The moment it settled over her face, she felt herself shift—from trembling ex-wife into something steelier. Fiercer.
This was for Kingsley.
She glanced at Devon. He was watching her with quiet pride and determination.
He reached for the comms, distributing earpieces. Katherine put hers in with shaky fingers, her heart thudding so hard it echoed in her ears.
Thirty minutes.
That’s all they had.
Thirty minutes to save the only man she’d ever truly loved from losing everything they shared.
Katherine closed her eyes, whispering a silent prayer. Then she opened them again—steady now, steel replacing fear.
Ahead, the outline of the facility loomed, part of a warehouse district tucked between storage lots and disused shipping yards. To any outsider, it was just another biotech building. But underground…
Katherine’s breath hitched.
She didn’t know what they would find inside. She didn’t know if Kingsley would even remember her.
But she was going to get him back.
Even if it meant storming hell itself.
They were coming for him.
And nothing, nothing, was going to stop them.