13. Chapter 13 （Olivia）
The zip ties bite into my wrists as I test them for the hundredth time. Chen's office is exactly what you'd expect from a sociopath masquerading as a philanthropist - all sleek minimalism and calculated perfection. Even the chair they've tied me to probably costs more than my monthly rent.
My captors stand by the door, their tactical gear at odds with the refined décor. They haven't spoken since dragging me here, but their body language screams military training. Noah's training.
Noah. My heart clenches thinking of him fighting in that elevator. The way he moved like liquid violence, yet still managed to telegraph his intentions to me with nothing but a look. We've come so far from that first night when he was just an unwanted protector.
Now he's everything.
A computer monitor glows on Chen's desk, its screen saver dancing with corporate logos. If I could just get to it, send some kind of signal... But the guards watch my every move, their hands never far from their weapons.
"Mr. Chen will be here shortly," one of them finally speaks. His voice is flat, emotionless. "Try to stay still."
I almost laugh. Staying still has never been my strong suit - just ask any of my grade school teachers. Or Noah, who spent countless hours trying to teach me surveillance techniques that required actual patience.
"Need to use the bathroom," I say, letting a tremor enter my voice. Playing weak isn't hard when your hands are literally tied.
The guards exchange looks. This is their first mistake - showing uncertainty. Their second mistake is underestimating how much damage a desperate reporter can do with limited resources.
"Fine," the first guard says. "But make it quick."
They cut my zip ties, keeping their weapons trained on me as they lead me to the executive bathroom attached to Chen's office. Real marble floors, because of course. Even evil has a luxury budget.
"Three minutes," the guard warns, closing the door but not locking it. They're not completely stupid.
I immediately turn on the faucet, buying myself cover noise as I scan the small space. No windows, no vents big enough to crawl through. But there is a heavy stone tissue box holder that looks like it could do some damage.
I grab it, testing its weight. Not ideal, but better than nothing. Now for the hard part.
I bang on the door. "There's no toilet paper!"
A sigh from outside. "Use the cabinet under the sink."
"I did! Nothing there either."
Another exchange of whispers. Then footsteps moving away. They're probably getting supplies from another bathroom, unwilling to let their prisoner wander the halls.
I count to ten, then ease the door open. One guard remains, his back to me as he watches the hallway. The computer is maybe fifteen feet away.
The tissue box holder feels impossibly heavy as I raise it. I've never actually hit someone before - not counting that guy I knocked out with my laptop. But Noah's voice echoes in my head, teaching me where to strike for maximum impact with minimum force.
The guard crumples without a sound. I catch his weapon before it can clatter to the floor, my hands shaking as I drag him into the bathroom. The zip ties they used on me now secure him to the toilet paper holder.
Poetic justice is a beautiful thing.
I race to the computer, my fingers flying over the keyboard. The system asks for a password, but I've spent months investigating this company. I know their security protocols, their naming conventions, their-
The screen unlocks. Thank you, predictable corporate culture.
I pull up the email client, typing as fast as I can while keeping one ear tuned for returning footsteps:
N-
Chen's office. 2 guards (1 down). Armed.
Password pattern works.
Files on server.
Hurry.
-O
P.S. I love you.
I hit send just as voices approach from the hallway. No time to clear my tracks. I sprint back to the bathroom, positioning myself behind the door with the guard's weapon.
"Where's Phillips?" A voice demands.
"Bathroom's closed," I call out, trying to sound casual. "Minor plumbing situation. Very embarrassing."
"Phillips, report!"
I hear them moving closer, their footsteps careful now. They know something's wrong. Time for Plan B.
I grab the tissue box holder again - it worked once, might as well stick with what works - and swing the door open hard. It catches the first guard in the face, sending him stumbling back. The second one raises his weapon, but I'm already moving, throwing the heavy stone projectile at his head.
It misses by a mile, but the distraction gives me enough time to slam the bathroom door and throw the lock. Not much protection against determined attackers, but it might buy me the time I need.
"Ms. Blackwood." Chen's voice drifts through the door, smooth as poison. "That was quite impressive. But ultimately futile."
"Really?" I press my back against the door, feeling it shake as they try to break through. "Because from where I'm standing, I just took out two of your men with a tissue box. Imagine what I could do with actual weapons."
His laugh raises goosebumps on my arms. "Oh, I don't have to imagine. I've seen what happens when people underestimate you. It's why I chose you, after all."
"Chose me?" Something cold settles in my stomach. "For what?"
"To break him, of course. To finish what Jessica started." The pounding on the door stops, replaced by the sound of power tools. They're going to take the hinges off. "Noah's greatest weakness was always his heart. And you, my dear, have made it so wonderfully vulnerable."
I glance around the bathroom, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. My eyes land on the unconscious guard, still zip-tied to the toilet paper holder.
"I won't help you hurt him," I say, already moving to search the guard's tactical vest.
"You already have."
The door hinges groan as they start to give way. But my fingers close around something promising in the guard's pocket - a flash-bang grenade.
I smile, remembering all those late-night training sessions with Noah. All those times he insisted I learn how to use "everything and anything" as a weapon.
"You know what your problem is, Chen?" I pull the pin, holding the grenade ready. "You think love makes us weak."
The door crashes inward as I dive into the shower stall, squeezing my eyes shut.
"But you're wrong," I whisper as the world explodes into light and sound. "It makes us unstoppable."
The flash-bang does its job, filling the bathroom with chaos and screaming.
My ears ring as I burst from the shower stall, using the disorientation to my advantage just like Noah taught me.
The guard's stolen weapon feels heavy in my hands as I move past the blinded men, not stopping to check if Chen was caught in the blast.
Something catches my ankle – a hand emerging from the smoke. I go down hard, the gun skittering across marble floors. Pain shoots through my knee, but adrenaline keeps me moving. I roll, kick out, connect with something solid. A grunt of pain tells me I hit my target.
But more hands grab me, rough and unforgiving. The smoke is clearing too fast, and Chen's silhouette emerges like a demon from the haze.
"Impressive again," he says, straightening his perfectly pressed suit. "Noah's trained you well. But not well enough."
I struggle against the guards holding me, tasting blood where I bit my lip in the fall. "You talk too much, you know that?"
His hand strikes faster than I can track, pain exploding across my cheek. "And you don't know when to quit. Another trait you share with Jessica."
"Don't say her name." The words come out before I can stop them, an echo of Noah's pain making them sharp.
Chen's smile is gentle, grandfatherly, completely at odds with the violence in his eyes. "You even sound like him now. How poetic." He gestures to his men. "Bring her. It's time we ended this game."
They drag me back into the office, forcing me into that ridiculous expensive chair again. But this time, they use real handcuffs instead of zip ties. No quick escape this time.
"You won't win," I tell Chen as he settles behind his desk. "Grant's teams are in the building. Noah's coming. You're finished."
"Oh, I'm counting on it." He turns his computer monitor so I can see it – security feeds showing tactical teams moving through the building. And there, on one screen, Noah fighting his way up the stairs like an avenging angel. "Let's give him a proper welcome, shall we?"
He presses a button on his desk, and hidden panels in the walls slide open. More guards emerge, weapons ready, taking positions around the room. An ambush.
"Noah's not stupid," I say, but fear makes my voice shake. "He'll know it's a trap."
"Of course he will." Chen's smile widens. "Just like he knew the parking garage was a trap for Jessica. But he came anyway, didn't he? Because that's what love does – it makes us predictable."
The elevator chimes. All weapons turn toward the doors as they slide open.
Empty.
Then the ceiling vent crashes down, and Noah drops into the room like an answered prayer.
He takes out two guards before they can react, his movements a brutal dance I've seen glimpses of but never fully witnessed. This is the soldier Chen created, the weapon he tried to control. But Noah's not fighting for Chen anymore.
He's fighting for me.
"Stay down!" Noah shouts as he engages another guard. I drop as bullets fly, the handcuffs digging into my wrists.
Chen watches it all from behind his desk, that infuriating smile still in place. He makes no move to join the fight, no attempt to flee. Like this is all going according to his plan.
Which means...
"Noah, it's a-"
The windows explode inward before I can finish, rappelling lines dropping from above. More guards pour in, surrounding Noah with a precision that speaks of long training and careful planning.
"Enough," Chen says softly, and everyone freezes. Even Noah, his chest heaving, blood trickling from a cut above his eye. "Welcome home, soldier."
"Let her go," Noah growls. "Your quarrel's with me."
"My quarrel?" Chen laughs. "This was never about quarrels, Noah. This was about proving a point." He stands, moving to where I'm cuffed to the chair. "About showing you that some lessons need to be learned twice."
His hand settles on my shoulder, and I see Noah's whole body go rigid. "Don't."
"Choose, Noah." Chen's voice carries the weight of history, of all the choices that led us here. "Her life, or the evidence. The files Marcus left behind that could expose everything. The ones in your pocket right now."
My eyes meet Noah's across the chaos of the destroyed office. I see the war raging behind his expression, the same impossible choice he faced with Jessica.
But I'm not Jessica.
"Noah." I pour everything I feel into his name – love, trust, determination. "Remember what you promised. Together."
Something shifts in his eyes. Understanding. Purpose. Love.
Then several things happen at once:
Noah's hand moves to his pocket, pulling out a flash drive.
Chen's grip tightens on my shoulder.
And through my earpiece, Detective Grant's voice whispers: "Now."
I throw my head back, catching Chen's chin with enough force to make my vision blur. The handcuffs – which Grant's team switched during my initial processing – fall away as Noah throws the flash drive.
Not to Chen.
To me.
I catch it as the windows explode again, but this time it's Grant's tactical team breaching. Smoke fills the room as Noah moves through the chaos like a ghost, taking out guards with lethal efficiency.
Chen's hands wrap around my throat, but I'm ready. The self-defense moves Noah drilled into me become instinct as I drive my elbow back, twist, strike.
The flash drive clatters to the floor as we grapple. Chen might be elegant in his suits, but he's still a trained killer. His fist catches my ribs, sending pain shooting through my side.
Then Noah is there, tearing Chen away from me with a roar of pure rage. They crash into the desk as Grant's team secures the room, and I scramble for the flash drive.
"Together," I gasp, reaching for Noah's hand.
His fingers find mine just as Chen starts to laugh.
"Oh, my children," he wheezes through bloody teeth. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"
The floor beneath us trembles as explosions rock the building.
And the ground begins to give way.