The lab was quiet now, the hum of machines filling the space like a heartbeat. Upstairs, Scarlett waited, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the table, eyes on the darkened corridor below where Nicolas had disappeared moments ago. Her mind raced, replaying the intruder, the torn blouse, the terror she had barely survived. And yet, for all her fear, there was a stubborn, defiant part of her that refused to shrink away.
Downstairs, Nicolas stood in the secret chamber, Matteo at his side, facing a new threat that chilled him deeper than any gunfire or knife. The intruder's interrogation had revealed fragments — the Osborous gang, a hybrid of Moscow and Albanian forces, with reach and ruthlessness beyond anything he'd seen before. But as he pieced it together, a darker realization gnawed at him: the Italian mafia, the Meng family… and Moretti Meng himself.
The connections were subtle, almost invisible. The Osborous operatives had been emboldened, moving in ways that suggested insider guidance. Someone high up had orchestrated the intercepted shipment, the dummies, the deaths of those waiting to collect his weapons. Nicolas's gaze hardened as he traced the lines back, the shadow of betrayal sharpening before him. Moretti Meng. The very man whose daughter had crossed paths with him before, whose ambitions he had long underestimated.
He slammed his fist against the table, the sound echoing in the chamber. "So it's true," he muttered, voice low and dangerous. "Moretti is trying to rebuild his power by manipulating Osborous… using them to weaken the Italian factions… and now he thinks he can control the fallout with me."
Matteo's expression tightened. "Sir… what about Miss Rose?"
Nicolas's jaw clenched. Even thinking of her pulled the storm within him tighter. She was upstairs, alone, waiting — vulnerable. He had seen what the intruder could do, how easily Scarlett could have been broken. And for a fraction of a second, he had imagined the consequences if she had been caught. He couldn't risk that again.
He rose, pacing, hands still tinged with faint red from the earlier confrontation. His mind was a storm of strategy, suspicion, and something he refused to name. The Meng family, with their wealth and cunning, were more dangerous than he had realized — not just a political threat, but a personal one. And Scarlett… she made the calculus harder. She made him human. Made him feel things he had long trained himself to suppress.
Yet, he pushed it all down. He couldn't afford distraction. Not now.
Upstairs, Scarlett sensed the tension, the storm in him even from a distance. When Nicolas finally returned, his presence filled the lab, cold and commanding as ever, though his hands were clenched at his sides. She caught the faintest traces of his earlier fury in his eyes.
"Scarlett," he said, voice clipped, measured. "Stay here. Don't come down."
Her stomach twisted. The words were simple, but the edge in them cut deeper than any danger could. She wanted to protest, to reach out, to tell him she could help. But she knew the moment was not hers. She only nodded, though her pulse hammered, chest tight with frustration.
Nicolas's gaze lingered, unreadable. His hands flexed, still trembling slightly from the heat of anger and adrenaline, though he masked it in control. "I have to handle this. Alone."
Scarlett's lips pressed into a thin line, a tear slipping despite herself. Her small hands clenched the edge of the table as her heart twisted. She wanted to tell him everything — that she wasn't afraid, that she would stand by him, that she wouldn't leave. But the look on his face warned her: distance was the shield he believed she needed.
And yet, in that silent room, with machines humming and lightning faintly illuminating the lab, she resolved it. Whatever he faced, whatever betrayal or danger loomed, she would not run. Not from him, not from the truth that pulled them together despite the world trying to tear them apart.
Nicolas's figure receded toward the stairs, each step deliberate, controlled. Scarlett's gaze followed him, the storm in her own chest echoing the chaos below. Outside, thunder rolled faintly, a distant echo of the war brewing in shadows, both in the streets and in the hearts of those he had sworn to protect — and in her heart, which refused to let him go.
And as the doors closed behind him, Scarlett whispered into the quiet lab, "I won't leave you. Whatever happens… I stay."