Silent Regret

"Get down! Now!"

Keon didn't wait for me to react. He lunged across the study, his body a solid wall of muscle as he tackled me off the velvet chair. We hit the marble floor just as the floor to ceiling glass of the balcony erupted in a spectacular, glittering rain of shards.

The sound wasn't a crash; it was a high velocity crack followed by the deadly whistle of a silenced round burying itself in the mahogany desk right where my head had been seconds before.

"They found us," I gasped, the air knocked out of my lungs. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. "You said the digital footprint was scrubbed!"

"Digital, yes," Keon hissed, pinning me to the floor as a second round shattered a Greek vase near the door. "But Julian Vane doesn't just hire hackers. He hires trackers. Someone spotted the tail number of the chopper."

He rolled off me, reaching under the desk to pull out a submachine gun. The moonlight caught the lethal matte black finish of the weapon.

"Stay low. Move to the bathroom. It's reinforced," he commanded.

"I'm not hiding in a bathroom while you play soldier!" I snapped, my adrenaline winning over my terror. I crawled toward the workstation. The screen was cracked, but the data was still live. "If they get into this room, they get the drive. I'm wiping the local cache."

"Louisa, move!"

"Give me ten seconds!"

My fingers flew. I wasn't the girl who cried in her car anymore. I hacked into the villa's external security feed. On the flickering screen, I saw them: four shadows in tactical gear moving through the olive grove, silent as smoke.

"They're coming from the north and west," I whispered. "They have infrared. The bathroom isn't safe, Keon. They'll toss a thermal charge through the vents."

Keon paused, his jaw tightening. He looked at me, and I saw the shift in his eyes. He stopped treating me like a liability and started treating me like a teammate.

"The boat?" he asked.

"Too exposed," I said, clicking through the blueprints of the villa. "The wine cellar has a service tunnel. It leads to the cove. If we can get to the water, we can take the jet skis. They're faster and harder to hit."

"Go," he said, hauling me up.

We ran.

The villa was now a death trap. Every shadow was an assassin. We hit the hallway just as a flashbang detonated in the foyer. The world turned white and ringing, but Keon's grip on my arm never wavered. He fired a burst behind us, the rhythmic thud thud thud of the suppressed weapon clearing a path.

We reached the cellar. The air smelled of damp stone and old wine. Keon kicked the door shut and bolted it.

"You're bleeding," he noted.

I touched my arm. A shard of glass had sliced through the silk of my dress, leaving a vivid red streak. "I'll live. Just get that tunnel open."

Keon moved a heavy rack of vintage Bordeaux, revealing a narrow iron door. He didn't have a key; he had a small brick of C4.

"Cover your ears."

The explosion was muffled but effective. We scrambled into the damp tunnel, the sound of the assassins battering the cellar door echoing behind us. We emerged onto the cliffside, the salt spray of the Mediterranean hitting my face like a cold slap.

"Don't look down," Keon said, his hand finding the small of my back.

"I stopped looking down a long time ago," I replied.

We were halfway down the cliff when a spotlight cut through the night. A black patrol boat was idling in the mouth of the cove, its mounted machine gun swiveling toward the stairs.

"Into the water!" Keon yelled.

We leaped.

The impact was like hitting a brick wall. The cold was a physical shock. I struggled to the surface, gasping, the heavy silk of my dress dragging me down.

"Louisa! Over here!"

Keon was already at the floating dock where the jet skis were moored. I swam with everything I had left, my muscles screaming. He reached down, grabbing the front of my dress and hauling me onto the plastic deck.

He keyed the ignition. The engine roared.

"Hold on!"

I wrapped my arms around his waist. He slammed the throttle forward, and the jet ski lurched, skipping across the waves. Behind us, the patrol boat opened fire, tracers cutting red lines through the dark. Keon banked hard, weaving between jagged rocks to hide us in the shadows.

Gradually, the gunfire faded, replaced by the drone of the engine and the rush of the wind. We were miles out at sea before he finally slowed down. The villa was a tiny, burning spark on the horizon.

Keon cut the engine. The silence was heavy. He turned around, his chest heaving.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I looked at my hands. They were shaking from the rush. "I've never felt better."

Keon reached out, his fingers cold as they cupped my face. "You're a natural, Louisa. Most people would have folded."

"I'm not 'most people' anymore," I said. "You made sure of that."

The tension between us shifted. It wasn't about files anymore. It was about us, drifting in the middle of a dark sea.

"We can't go to Italy," Keon said. "We need to go straight to the source. Vane is in London. He's throwing a masquerade ball at his estate in Surrey."

"A masquerade," I repeated, a dark smile touching my lips. "How appropriate. Everyone wearing masks while we pull his off."

"It's dangerous, Louisa. We're walking into the lion's den."

"I'm in," I said. "I want to see the look on his face."

Keon leaned in, his lips brushing mine. It was a kiss that tasted of salt and survival. "Then we go to London."

Before he could restart the engine, my encrypted phone buzzed. I pulled it out. There was one new message from an unknown number.

My heart stopped as I read the words.

I see you, Little Bird. Did you really think you could run from family? - C.

"Keon," I whispered, showing him the screen.

Keon stared at the message, his jaw locking. "Clara. She's leading the hunt."

"How did she get this number?"

"She traced the encryption," Keon said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "She's been inside my system the whole time."

The realization hit me like a plunge into icy water.

"The drive," I gasped. "Keon, if she's in the system, the drive is a homing beacon. We led them straight to the master key."

At that moment, a low, mechanical hum began to vibrate through the air. I looked up. A silent, black drone was hovering above us, its red eye fixed directly on our position.

"Jump!" Keon roared.

But it was too late.

The drone dropped a metallic canister that hissed as it hit the water. A thick, sweet smelling gas billowed out. I tried to cover my face, but the world was already starting to spin. The stars blurred into white light. I felt Keon's arms wrap around me, but his grip was growing weak.

"Louisa..." he groaned.

My vision faded to black. The last thing I heard was the sound of a heavy boat engine and a woman's voice, sharp and cold.

"Pick them up. And make sure the girl stays alive. I want her to watch when I take back what's mine."