KATHLEEN
The lights flickered back on, revealing the aftermath like a grotesque painting.
Voss lay unconscious at Kathleen's feet, blood trickling from the wound where she'd smashed the gun against his temple. Carl was already moving, yanking the man's hands behind his back with zip-ties pulled from his pocket. His knuckles were split, his shirt torn, but his eyes—
*His eyes were terrifying.*
Cold. Calculated.
The same eyes that had once watched her from the shadows of a penthouse party, dissecting her like a business prospect.
Kathleen took a step back.
Carl noticed. His voice was gravel. "You shouldn't have come."
She wiped her hands on her pants, sticky with blood that wasn't hers. "You're welcome."
A whimper cut through the tension.
Alina stood in the hallway, her stuffed dragon crushed to her chest, her tiny frame shaking.
Kathleen moved before Carl could, dropping to her knees in front of the girl. "Hey. It's okay. You're safe."
Alina's tears spilled over. "Is Uncle Carl hurt?"
Kathleen glanced back at him—at the way he stiffened at the concern in his niece's voice, like kindness was a language he'd forgotten.
"No," Kathleen lied softly. "He's invincible."
Carl's breath hitched.
Then the police stormed in, and the moment shattered.
---
CARL
Three hours later, Carl's penthouse was a crime scene.
Detectives swarmed. Reporters clustered outside. And Alina—exhausted, traumatized—finally slept in his arms, her face pressed against his shoulder.
Kathleen stood by the windows, her arms crossed, staring at the city as if it had betrayed her.
Carl handed Alina to the nanny and crossed to her. "You should rest."
Kathleen didn't turn. "Ava texted. Kray's been arrested. Sandeke's stock is tanking."
A pause. Then—
"You killed that man."
Carl stilled. The first mercenary—the one whose neck he'd snapped.
"Yes."
Kathleen finally faced him, her eyes blazing. "Just like that."
"He was going to murder my niece."
"I know." Her voice cracked. "*I know.* But you didn't even hesitate."
Carl stepped closer. "Would you have?"
The question hung between them.
Kathleen's breath came faster. "That's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"You're *exactly* who I thought you were." Her whisper was a blade. "A man who solves problems with violence and money. And I—" She swallowed. "I let myself forget that."
Carl recoiled like she'd struck him.
Because she was right.
He'd spent years building walls thick enough to keep the world out—and Alina safe inside. But Kathleen had slipped through the cracks. And now she saw him. *Really* saw him.
And she was horrified.
---
AVA
Ava watched the news cycle explode from her hospital bed.
**SANDEKE CEO LINKED TO MURDER-FOR-HIRE SCHEME.**
**HARRIS CONSOLIDATE COO'S "SUICIDE" NOW A HOMICIDE INVESTIGATION.**
Her work. Her revenge.
But the victory felt hollow.
Her phone lit up with a message from Kathleen:
*Can you dig up everything on Carl's past?*
Ava frowned. *Why?*
The reply took a full minute:
*Because I need to know if he's ever been anything but this.*
Ava sighed and pulled up a new search.
**CARL HARRIS + FOSTER CARE + HISTORY**
The first result made her sit bolt upright.
*Oh.*
*Oh, Kathleen.*