Emma's feet pounded against the cold ground as she sprinted back toward the burning observatory. Smoke poured from shattered windows, ash dancing in the wind like dark snowflakes. Her lungs burned, but she didn't stop. Not when she knew Alexander was facing Vincent alone.
She burst through the rubble-strewn entrance just in time to see Alexander slam into a pillar, blood streaking down the side of his face. Vincent stood over him, gun raised.
"You're weak, just like your mother," Vincent sneered. "Your father had vision. You… you have doubt."
Emma didn't hesitate. She picked up a jagged steel rod from the floor and hurled it like a javelin. It struck Vincent in the shoulder, throwing him off balance.
Alexander took the opening.
With a primal roar, he lunged at Vincent, knocking the weapon from his hand. They grappled, fists flying, until Alexander managed to slam Vincent into the ground.
Emma rushed to his side, eyes wide as she saw the rage on Alexander's face. For a second, she was scared of him too.
"Alex," she said gently. "Don't be him."
Vincent, coughing blood, managed a smirk. "You'll never outrun your bloodline."
Alexander stood. "Maybe not. But I won't let it define me."
He turned away, letting Vincent slump to the ground, unconscious or dead—it didn't matter.
Sirens screamed outside. Reinforcements. Maybe help. Maybe enemies.
Emma turned to Alexander. "We need to disappear. You, me, Isabella—we can't trust anyone now."
"I have a safehouse," Alexander said. "But once we go, there's no coming back."
Emma nodded. "Good. Because the next time we show our faces, we take them all down."
They ran through the smoke, back into the woods, unaware of the shadow watching them from the treeline.
Matteo.
Smiling.
---
They didn't stop running until their legs gave out. Emma collapsed beside Alexander under the cover of trees, heart thundering.
Alexander checked his watch and then the wound on his temple. "We have twenty minutes before Hale's men regroup. Maybe less."
"Isabella?" Emma looked back into the distance.
"She's safe," Alexander replied. "One of my men got her out. They'll meet us at the fallback site."
The forest around them felt like a living thing—breathing with the weight of secrets and danger.
Emma turned to Alexander. "Why didn't you tell me what Hale really was?"
He hesitated. "Because I didn't want you to see what my family made me into. Or what they were capable of."
She stepped closer. "I needed to know, Alex. Because I was falling for you. And I don't fall easy."
He reached out, brushing a strand of soot-streaked hair from her cheek. "Then let me prove that you weren't wrong to trust me."
Before she could answer, a rustle in the bushes made them both whip around, weapons raised.
It was Isabella.
Supported by a tall woman with sharp cheekbones and eyes like ice.
"Sylvia," Alexander breathed. "You're alive?"
"Barely," she said. "But I have something you're going to want to see."
She held out a tablet.
A live feed flickered on screen—an encrypted transmission, pixelated but clear enough to show a familiar face:
Matteo.
In a dark room, flanked by Dante's men.
He was laughing.
"…once the Blackwoods are dead, the whole empire is ours. No more alliances. No more secrets. Just power."
Emma's jaw dropped. "He was never on our side."
Alexander's fists clenched. "And now he's playing god."
Sylvia looked at them both. "You want to end this? Then we burn it all down. Matteo. Dante. Every corrupt string they've tied you to."
Emma met Alexander's gaze. "Then let's start the fire."
Thunder cracked overhead.
And somewhere, far away, Matteo prepared for war.