The cell was cold. Too cold. As if its emptiness mocked the bodies that once bled there.
Silas was gone.
And with him, the balance of power shifted again.
Julian paced the bunker's east wing, jaw clenched, steps echoing like gunfire. He'd interrogated every guard, reviewed every second of footage, traced every access code. Nothing. No breaches. No forced entries. It was as if Silas had vanished into air.
Only ghosts left fingerprints like that.
"Who was the last person to see him?" he asked Damon.
The younger man hesitated.
Julian turned to him slowly. "Damon."
Damon swallowed. "It was Agent Rhea Lennox. She did the last perimeter check before lights out."
Aria froze.
Rhea.
The quiet, efficient analyst from Julian's private team. Loyal. Controlled. Invisible.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
She stormed into the surveillance bay and demanded every file on Rhea—movement logs, biometric pings, call records. Within five minutes, she found it.
A skipped scan.
Twelve minutes past midnight.
Unlogged, untraceable, unless you were looking for it.
"She looped the footage," Aria muttered. "She was the breach."
Julian stared at the screen, face expressionless. "Why would she do this?"
Aria's voice was cold. "Because someone offered her more."
Julian didn't argue.
Because he knew exactly who.
—
They tracked Rhea's exit route—a stolen biometric from an unconscious guard and a black SUV with diplomatic plates.
Not Russian. Not American.
Swiss.
Neutral, untraceable, and owned by a private defense corporation with ties to Maxwell Trent.
Of course.
It was a ghost's game again.
One Aria wasn't willing to lose.
"We go to Zurich," she said.
Julian's mouth tightened. "It's a trap."
"Good," she replied. "Let's spring it."
—
The city looked calm from above.
Zurich's skyline blinked with luxury and silence—exactly the kind of place where weapons were bought over champagne and people died with dignity.
They stayed in the shadows, moving through back channels and encrypted signals. Damon ran digital recon. Aria tracked Trent's holdings. And Julian… Julian went dark.
He hadn't told her why.
Or what he was looking for.
Just that it had to be done alone.
—
Three days later, he returned.
His knuckles were bloodied. His shirt ripped.
But his eyes…
They held secrets Aria wasn't ready to ask about.
"What did you do?" she asked him that night.
Julian stood in the window, watching rain streak the glass.
"I found the man who trained Rhea. Paid her. Recruited her out of MIT."
"And?"
Julian looked at her.
"I killed him."
Aria stepped closer. "That's not what's bothering you."
He didn't answer.
And that silence felt worse than any confession.
"Julian," she said softly. "What aren't you telling me?"
He turned.
And the truth in his eyes hit like a gunshot.
"She wasn't just a recruit," he said.
Aria's heart thudded.
"She was…?"
"Mine," Julian whispered. "I brought her in. I trained her. Trusted her."
Aria stepped back.
"She was your agent."
He nodded.
And something inside Aria cracked.
Because betrayal from an enemy could be anticipated. But betrayal from the man beside you—that cut bone-deep.
"You vouched for her," she said.
"I know."
"You said she was clean."
"I was wrong."
She wanted to scream.
But she didn't.
Because rage was easy.
Cold control—that's what terrified people.
"What else have you been wrong about?" she asked.
Julian's voice was ragged. "Only one thing."
"What?"
"You. I thought I could keep you safe from all this."
She stared at him.
And saw it.
The guilt.
The grief.
The ache of a man who still carried every death on his shoulders.
"You can't protect me," she said.
"I know."
"I don't want to be protected."
His voice dropped. "Then what do you want?"
Aria's breath hitched.
"I want revenge."
—
They found Rhea two nights later in a private villa in the hills, guarded by men in dark suits with no allegiance.
Aria didn't wait for backup.
She stormed the compound at 2:17 a.m.
One knife. Two guns. Three minutes.
It was enough.
When she burst into the main room, Rhea was waiting—alone, unarmed, hands raised.
"I knew you'd come," she said.
Aria leveled her gun.
"Why?" she demanded.
Rhea tilted her head. "You already know."
"Say it."
The other woman smiled faintly. "Because Julian broke me. Long before you even knew his name."
Aria's grip tightened. "What did he do?"
Rhea's smile twisted. "He made me believe I was more than a weapon. And then he discarded me. Like the rest of them."
Aria's voice was ice. "You were paid to protect people. Not betray them."
"You don't understand," Rhea said softly. "You think you're different? You're not. He'll use you, too. Until you bleed for him."
"Maybe I already have."
Rhea's gaze sharpened. "Then kill me."
Aria hesitated.
Just for a second.
And in that second, Rhea lunged.
The fight was fast and brutal—bone against bone, fury against betrayal. Blood smeared across the marble floor. Aria disarmed her, pinned her with a blade at her throat.
And this time, she didn't hesitate.
She cut.
Quick. Clean.
When she stood, her hands were red.
But her eyes were clear.
—
They buried Rhea in silence.
No name.
No marker.
Just dirt and guilt.
Julian didn't say a word.
Aria didn't need him to.
Because she could feel it—the fracture between them. Not wide enough to separate. But deep enough to echo.
"You trusted her," she said quietly.
Julian's voice was hollow. "I made her."
And that was the truth.
He'd created a monster.
And now Aria had killed it.
—
Three days later, they received a package.
A single envelope. No return address.
Inside: a flash drive.
Aria plugged it in.
A video played.
Silas. Dressed in black. No chains. No restraints.
Just power.
"I told you this wasn't over," he said.
Julian moved closer.
"I want her," Silas said, staring straight into the lens. "Not the empire. Not the accounts. Her."
Aria's breath stilled.
"I will strip you of your secrets," Silas continued. "And then I'll bury them inside her. Like I should've done years ago."
Julian's jaw tightened.
"I'll come for her," Silas promised. "And you won't see me coming."
Then the screen went black.
—
Aria stood frozen.
Julian touched her arm.
"He won't touch you," he said.
But her eyes burned.
Because she wasn't afraid for herself.
She was afraid of what she'd have to become to stop him.
And she wasn't sure she'd survive it.