Evangeline didn't sleep.
She sat on the edge of the bed, the words "You have three days" repeating like a broken metronome in her skull.
Three days to decide whether to join the same syndicate that once tried to erase Killian from existence.
Three days to protect him—or betray everything she stood for.
The sky was a deep slate gray when Killian walked in, his shirt wrinkled, his hair damp from a shower, but his eyes alert. Tired, but sharp.
"You didn't come to bed," he said.
She didn't answer right away. Then, "The Executor came."
That stopped him cold.
His hand clenched at his side. "What?"
"She was on the balcony. She didn't hurt me. But she made it clear—there's a vote. I'm the deciding factor. They want me to join them, Killian."
His expression darkened like a gathering storm. "What did she offer you?"
"Survival. Power. The illusion of choice."
He paced the room, running a hand through his hair. "They're pushing faster than I expected. I thought we had more time."
"I don't," she said quietly. "I have three days."
Killian stopped in front of her. "Then we use those three days to burn them down."
His voice was calm, but it carried an edge of something darker. Something feral.
She studied him. "You've planned for this, haven't you?"
"I knew they'd come eventually," he said. "But not like this. Not with you in the crossfire."
A knock at the door cut through the tension.
Killian turned, wary. "Laurent?"
"No," came a soft voice. "It's me. Aria."
Evangeline frowned. She hadn't heard that name before.
Killian opened the door.
Standing there was a woman in her early thirties, tall and elegant with dark red curls, freckles, and eyes the color of burnished gold. She wore a sleek black blazer over jeans, a gun strapped to her thigh, and the kind of calm confidence that only came from surviving the impossible.
Aria strode in like she belonged there.
"You weren't going to tell her about me?" she asked Killian with a smirk.
Killian looked like he'd bitten into something sour. "I was getting to it."
Evangeline stood. "Who are you?"
Aria gave her a slow smile. "His sister."
Silence.
"What?" Evangeline whispered.
Killian looked away. "Half-sister. Same father. Different fate."
Aria nodded. "I stayed inside the syndicate. Played nice. Climbed ranks. They think I'm loyal. That I'm one of them."
Killian's jaw clenched. "She's not."
"No," Aria agreed. "But I'm not innocent either. I made my deals. Bought time. Kept you alive longer than they wanted, Kill."
Evangeline's mind reeled. "Why are you here now?"
"Because," Aria said, looking straight at her, "you're the first variable in years they didn't account for. And they're scared."
"Of me?" Evangeline scoffed.
"Yes," Aria said simply. "Because you're not afraid to love him. You're not afraid to fight. And that makes you unpredictable. Dangerous."
Evangeline swallowed hard.
Aria stepped closer. "You have power, Evangeline. Not just in your choices—but in who you are. But if you're going to survive what's coming, you need more than your fury. You need strategy."
Killian crossed his arms. "You offering to help?"
"I'm offering us a real chance," Aria said. "But we'll need another ally."
"Who?" Evangeline asked.
Aria's lips curled. "Someone you're not going to like."
---
One Hour Later – Underground Safehouse
The room was dim, heavy with the scent of dust and old leather.
Aria led them down into a sublevel beneath the city—an abandoned wine vault turned secure chamber. Killian had taken the lead, but Evangeline kept close behind, her senses sharp.
The door creaked open.
And there he was.
Damian Blackwood.
Chained to a steel chair.
Bruised, bloodied—but still smirking.
Evangeline froze. "What the hell is this?"
Killian's voice was like ice. "Insurance."
Aria stepped forward. "He tried to kill you. Lied to you. But he also knows their inner structure. Faces. Codes. Safe zones. If he talks, we stand a chance."
"I'm not talking," Damian said, his lip bleeding.
"You will," Aria replied smoothly. "Because if you don't, she gets to decide what happens next."
She nodded at Evangeline.
Evangeline stepped forward, looking him in the eye. "Why?"
Damian looked up. "Because I loved you. And they used that against me. Just like they'll use your love for Killian against you."
She wanted to hit him. Scream at him.
But she didn't.
Instead, she leaned in. "You have one shot to be better than the man they made you."
Damian blinked. For the first time, he looked… tired. Defeated.
"I'll talk," he said finally. "But only to her."
He looked at Evangeline.
Killian took a step forward. "Absolutely not—"
"It's fine," she said, her eyes never leaving Damian's. "Let him talk."