Leo barely had time to blink.
Rael's voice, sharp and venomous, echoed in his mind: "You're too late."
And then—
Smoke.
A hiss filled the air, followed by a sudden burst of gray mist exploding from a vent near the wall. Leo coughed violently, stumbling backward as his vision blurred.
Through the smoke, Rael's figure faded like a phantom.
"Ashley!" Leo yelled, panic surging.
But her chair was empty.
Gone.
The ropes were cut, left coiled on the floor like snakes. The gag lay discarded beside them.
Leo's lungs burned as he scrambled forward, waving the smoke away, trying to find a clue—anything. But the only thing left behind was a playing card.
Red.
A joker.
Scrawled across the center in sharp ink:
> Still think you're in control?
His hands trembled. Rael didn't plan to fight.
He planned to distract him.
Leo had fallen for it—completely.
---
Meanwhile, across town, Kieran stared at a monitor inside a dim-lit room. Knox had finally hacked into one of Rael's hidden networks.
What he saw made his blood freeze.
A live feed.
Ashley—bound, this time upright—her mouth gagged again, surrounded by three masked figures. The background was unfamiliar. Cold. Clinical.
Kieran's voice was ice.
"Where is that?"
Knox shook his head. "Somewhere off-grid. But I can trace the signal. It'll take time."
"Do it," Kieran growled. His knuckles turned white gripping the edge of the table.
Rael wasn't just provoking them anymore.
He was sending a message.
Kieran turned to Knox. "Send a message back."
Knox raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
Kieran nodded.
"Tell Rael he just picked the wrong war."