Arthur's study looked less like a room and more like a private museum.
Glass cases displayed relics from his long career—awards, framed headlines, and even a ceremonial sword gifted by a foreign official. The air carried the scent of polished wood and power.
Leo remained standing. He could hear the rhythmic tick of an antique clock just behind the desk.
Arthur didn't look up from the file he was reading. "You're early," he said. "That's new."
Leo's jaw tightened. "I didn't come here for pleasantries."
Arthur finally raised his eyes, their steel-gray calm slicing through the distance between them. "You never do." He closed the file and set it aside. "So tell me, what did you break this time? A deal? A promise?"
Leo's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "A life," he said quietly. "And it wasn't supposed to happen."
That made Arthur pause just for a second. "Yours?"
Leo's shoulders tensed, and his gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before flicking up at Arthur. "I… I didn't have a choice," he said quietly. "We need your help."
Hell, there was no way he was going to tell his father that he had only gone back to her because he needed her help killing the feelings he still had for her.
Arthur's brow lifted slightly. "You're alive. That in itself is an achievement these days." He paused. "Coffee?"
"I… I'm fine. Thank you." His voice came out as a whisper, his fingers twitching at his side.
Arthur poured himself a cup anyway. The delicate clink of porcelain echoed through the cavernous room. "You always did refuse the simplest courtesies," he murmured. "Sit, if you're staying."
Leo hesitated, then stepped forward. He didn't sit.
"Someone tried to kill me last night," he said finally. "And Elara Vance. Whoever it was knew exactly where we would be and when."
Arthur didn't flinch. His gaze remained steady and cold, as he stirred his coffee. "Elara," he repeated. "Your teenage obsession." He looked up then, studying Leo's every movement. "You just couldn't let her go."
Leo's throat tightened. He dropped his gaze to the floor, his hands twisting slightly. "I didn't have a choice," he murmured. "I… we need your help."
Arthur watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly, he said, "You've lost weight."
Leo blinked, unsure if it was an insult or an observation.
Arthur sipped his coffee. "Stress… or guilt?"
"I'm not—" Leo's voice caught. He drew a steadying breath. "Please. This isn't about me. Prometheus is active again."
The name changed the air in the room. Arthur set his cup down with a faint click.
"Prometheus," he drawled. "I haven't heard that name in years."
Leo nodded, his pulse rising. "There was an explosion at the pier. A flash drive surfaced — it had the company's seal on it. One of yours. It led me to the same algorithms that went missing from the archive years ago."
Arthur held up a hand, silencing him. He rose from his chair with slow, deliberate grace and crossed to one of the display cases. Inside, was the ceremonial sword.
"Prometheus wasn't just an experiment, Leo. It was a mirror. It reflected whoever stood too close. And now someone's looking into it again."
Leo's pulse quickened. "Then help me stop them."
Arthur turned to Leo "Help you?" He gave a faint, humorless laugh. "You come crawling back after years… and now you want my protection."
"I'm not asking for protection," Leo said, his jaw tightening. "I'm asking for a chance to stop whatever's coming. They targeted me. Elara was almost killed—"
Arthur cut him off sharply. "Of course she was. They're not after her. They're after you. And you, Leo, are mine. That makes her collateral."
"You think this is because of you?" Leo could feel his stomach twist.
His father met his gaze with chilling calm. "Everything that touches this family becomes a weapon eventually."
Everything? And who was to blame? They might not be after Elara, but they should be after the one man who had made life as a Thorne a living hell for him.
"I need access to the archives," Leo said, breaking from his thoughts . "If I can trace the data flow, maybe—"
Arthur lifted a hand. "No."
Leo blinked. "What?"
Stepping closer, his eyes as sharp as broken glass, Arthur pointed at Leo. "You want answers? Then find them. You have seventy-two hours before whoever is pulling these strings finishes the job. After that—" He gave a slight shrug. "I won't intervene."
Leo's voice shook. "You would just stand by?"
Arthur's expression didn't waver. "You made your choice when you left, Leo. Don't expect my shadow to protect you now."
The words hit harder than he wanted them to.
Leo's breath came shallow. "And if I fail?"
"Then they'll get what they came for— a Thorne legacy in the grave."
He turned away, settling back into his chair, as if the conversation were already over.
Leo stood frozen for a moment. His father wasn't helping him.
Finally, Leo turned toward the door. His hand hovered over the handle when Arthur's voice came again, low and deliberate.
"One more thing."
"Be careful with Miss Vance." He warned. "She'll be your fall"
Leo turned back, his voice tight. "You don't know her."
Arthur's eyes lifted. "You said the same thing about your mother."
"She was your wife too" Leo retorted.
Arthur didn't look up. "She was a liability."
The words hit like a slap. Leo's stomach twisted, anger bleeding into disbelief. "You talk about people like they're failed investments."
Arthur finally met his gaze, cold and unflinching. "Because that's what they become when they choose love over logic. She did. You're doing the same."
Leo stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides. "You think I'm like her?"
Arthur's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "No, son. You're worse. She didn't know the cost of loving a Thorne, but you do."
For a long second, Leo couldn't breathe. He walked back to the door before he said something he would regret.
Arthur turned back to his desk, his voice low. "Seventy-two hours, Leo. Either bury this… or it buries you."