Chapter 15 – Violet
The silence in the panic room is thick, almost maddening—until it’s ripped apart by the unmistakable sound of gunfire.
I jolt upright, panic clawing its way through my chest.
Not again.
I rush to the far end of the panic room, where I noticed a small panel when Kaz locked me in. I press it, and just like the ones in his bedroom, CCTV screens light up across the wall.
My breath hitches.
The house is a warzone.
Guards are shouting and firing. Bodies drop to the ground, blood blooming across the floors I walked just moments ago. The east corridor is in flames. The estate, once cold and untouchable, is now unrecognizable—chaos painted across every screen.
My eyes dart between feeds, searching—where’s Kaz?
There—the east wing. He’s a storm in motion, gun in hand, rage burning in his eyes.
He’s dragging a body across the marble floor, one arm clamped around the man’s collar like deadweight, the other slick with something dark.
His shirt clings to his skin, soaked through—and I can’t tell if it’s his blood or someone else’s.
His face is thunder.
His eyes are wild.
And for one terrifying second, he stumbles.
I press a hand to my mouth.
Is he hurt?
My chest twists. The fear is sudden and sharp, like a blade between my ribs. I’ve never seen him like this. Unhinged. Animalistic. But it’s not the violence that grips me—it’s the aching panic blooming in my stomach that something might happen to him.
Something real. Something final.
I brace both hands on the monitor and lean closer.
“Please,” I whisper to no one.
I don’t care that he locked me in here. I don’t care that he’s killed more people than I can count. I don’t care about the blood or the chaos or the brutal way he defends what’s his.
I care that it’s him.
And I’m terrified I’m going to lose him. Because somehow, somewhere between being his prisoner and being his problem, he became my person.
I’m still watching Kaz through the screen when the door creaks open. I whirl around, heart in my throat—ready to scream, to fight, to—
“Violet,” Arina gasps, staggering inside, blood trailing down their arm and soaking the shoulder of their tactical vest. Their face is pale but determined. “We have to move. Now.”
My blood runs cold.
I rush forward to catch them as they stumble, my arms barely holding them upright. “You’re bleeding—”
“No time,” they snap, already pulling me toward the hall. “We’re exposed now. Kaz doesn’t know I opened the door. He thinks you’re still in here, and so do the people who attacked. The panic room is unbreakable, but I don’t want to risk it. We need to get to the west exit.”
Gunshots echo through the walls like thunder cracking the sky. My pulse is pounding so loud I can barely hear myself think.
Bang. Bang. Screams. More gunfire.
Arina grabs my hand and pulls me out into the corridor. The mansion—once pristine—is now splattered with blood and littered with bodies. Smoke hangs in the air. I can’t tell who is friend or foe. I just run.
I stumble over something—someone—on the floor. A man in tactical gear, unmoving. Inches away from his hand is a knife.
Without thinking, I grab it. My fingers close around the handle, my breath shallow. I’m not who I was weeks ago.
Arina looks over and nods grimly. “Take this too.” They hand me a small pistol, its weight shocking in my palm. “Don’t hesitate. If it’s not one of us, shoot. We can’t afford kindness right now.”
We move again—me with a death grip on the knife and the gun, the scent of blood thick in my nose, and my heart hammering in a rhythm that’s no longer fear.
It’s survival. And somewhere out there—Kaz is still fighting.
I’ll be damned if I don’t fight my way back to him.
We crouch behind the cold marble base of a statue, Arina’s breaths sharp and shallow beside me.
The weight of the pistol in my hand is unbearable, my fingers slick with sweat.
I can hear the crunch of boots—three men, maybe more.
My grip tightens. Arina raises a finger to their lips and signals for me to stay still.
The men are close. Too close. I hold my breath. And then—
Gunfire erupts.
A deafening crack splits the silence, followed by the thud of bodies collapsing. Bullets scream above our heads, and I duck instinctively, gasping.
“Violet!” a voice roars from the smoke.
My head snaps up. Kaz. He storms into the corridor like a force of nature, eyes burning, blood on his shirt. He’s in front of me in seconds, his gun hitting the floor with a loud clatter. He drops to his knees, gathers me into his arms like he’s scared I’ll disappear.
“Are you okay?” His voice is raw, frantic. He touches my face, my shoulders, my waist. His hands check for blood, as if he’s not sure I’m whole.
I grip his shirt, tears threatening to fall. “Are you okay?” My voice cracks as I push his hair back, searching his face. “You’re covered in blood—are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he says tightly. “None of it’s mine. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head and melt into him, burying myself in the scent of blood and gunpowder and him. I can’t let go.
Then his voice changes.
Sharper. Colder.
“Why the fuck was she out of the panic room, Arina?”
Arina, still leaning against the wall, grips their bleeding arm with a grimace. “Because the panic room wasn’t safe anymore, Kaz. They were about to breach it. I got there just in time.”
“You should have told me. You should’ve radioed me first.” His tone is lethal.
“I had seconds,” Arina bites out. “If I’d waited, they would’ve had her. You’d be cradling a corpse right now.”
Kaz glares at them, his jaw clenched, but he says nothing. Not for a long moment.
Then he looks down at me again, his hand cupping the side of my face like I’m the only thing grounding him. His thumb brushes over my cheekbone.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”
“Boss….” Arina clears their throat. “We have to get her out of here. Immediately.”
Kaz stills for a moment, then nods. “Go. I’ve got her.”
Arina leads the way down a narrow hall that looks like a dead end—until they pull a hidden latch and a section of the wall creaks open, revealing a dimly lit underground tunnel.
My breath catches. I’ve only ever heard Kaz mention this tunnel once, in passing.
A last resort. An escape only meant for the end of the world.
Apparently, this is it.
The air is damp and cold, our footsteps echoing in the space. Silent urgency coils around us. I stay close to Kaz. He’s limping now. Barely noticeable, but I can see it.
“Kaz?” I whisper, touching his leg gently.
He flinches.
“Grazed,” he mutters. “Bullet caught me on the side.”
A lump forms in my throat. He’s bleeding. He’s hurt. And still walking like it doesn’t matter.
Tears sting my eyes. “You should’ve said something—let me—”
“Not now, Violet,” he says, softer than I expect. His hand finds mine and squeezes. “I’m okay. We just need to get out of here first.”
I nod. But inside, I’m unraveling. He’s not okay.
His shirt is ripped, stained. There’s a smear of blood trailing down his thigh. His breath is uneven.
We reach the end of the tunnel and push open a heavy steel door. Outside, parked beneath a thick canopy of trees, is a black SUV. The emergency getaway.
Kaz opens the passenger door and motions for me to get in. “Go.”
I hesitate for half a second. “You’re driving?”
“Of course I am.”
He moves to the driver’s seat, wincing slightly as he lowers himself. I slide in beside him, and the door slams shut. In the silence that follows, I can hear the rapid beat of my own heart.
As the engine roars to life, I glance over at him.
His knuckles are torn open.
The skin is split, raw, and caked with dried blood. He must have fought with his fists.
My throat tightens again. He’s done all this—for me.
“Kaz….”
He doesn’t look at me, eyes fixed on the road ahead as we speed through a winding forest path.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, like he can feel my thoughts crawling through him.
But he’s not fine. And all I want is to wrap him in my arms and tell him he doesn’t have to be a monster to protect me. He just has to stay alive.
The car is dead quiet for the first few minutes after we escape the estate.
Kaz’s knuckles are still bleeding. His jaw is tight, his fingers clenching the wheel hard enough to snap it.
Arina sits in the backseat behind us, checking their bleeding shoulder.
I’m beside Kaz, staring straight ahead—but my mind is spinning.
Then, Kaz finally speaks, voice low and hoarse. “Do you know who it is?”
Arina exhales, like they’ve been waiting for the question.
“Yes,” they say. “Maxim told me.”
A beat of silence.
Then they add, “It was Milos.”
Kaz nods. “Maxim told me, too.”
Everything in me freezes. “Milo?” I whisper, blinking fast. “No. That—no.”
I look to Kaz, expecting some kind of denial. But he doesn’t say anything. His lips press into a bloodless line. His knuckles whiten more.
Arina nods slowly. “I didn’t believe it at first either. But it makes sense. The breach. The fact that someone knew exactly where Violet would be. It had to be someone with access to everything.”
“No,” I say again, because the disbelief feels physical in my chest. “Milo was…kind. Quiet.”
“He played his role,” Arina says simply. “He always did.”
“He doesn’t know we know,” Kaz says coldly. “I’ve told Maxim to keep it silent. As soon as Violet is safe in the holding facility, I will go back to the estate and make him wish he was never born.”