Chapter 31 The Rescue Plan
The click of the elevator doors closing was the sound of a death sentence.
Amara stood frozen in the middle of the marble hall, the silence of the penthouse falling over her like a shroud. He had left her. He had locked her in his glass tower while he ran off to play soldier, deciding her brother's fate.
“No,” she whispered, her voice thin with panic. The image of Rafael's terrified face on the tablet burned in her mind. Midnight.
Panic turned to fury. The same fury she'd felt when she discovered his lie. He was treating her like a child, a “civil anomaly” to be protected, after everything that had happened between them.
She ran to the elevator, pounding her fists against the cold steel. “Leonidas!”
She heard the mechanical hum of the elevator descending. He was gone.
She turned, frantic, searching for another exit. The two Praetorian guards outside the main doors stood like statues—she could only see their silhouettes through the frosted glass of the service entrance. The windows, as he'd told her on the first day, were bulletproof.
She was trapped. Completely trapped.
She was about to scream in frustration when she heard a sound that froze her blood.
The hiss of the elevator. Returning.
She backed away, confused.
The doors opened. Leonidas stepped out. Alone. Marius wasn't with him.
His face was a mask of controlled fury. He didn't look at her. He walked past her, radiating power and danger. Had he forgotten something?
“Marius is mobilizing the team,” he said, his voice a low growl, more to himself than to her. He headed straight for his private corridor, toward the penthouse office.
Then Amara realized. He wasn't going to war yet. He was going to the war room. His lair.
He was going to plan the extraction from here.
Adrenaline flooded her system. This was her chance. She was no longer the frightened girl who hid. She was the woman he'd taken to his bed. She had a claim to this territory now.
She ran after him.
Leonidas entered his private office, the door sliding shut silently behind him. The room was dark. He didn't turn on the lights. He tapped a panel on his desk.
An entire wall lit up, revealing a tactical screen she'd never seen before. A three-dimensional map of the Reapers' warehouse floated in the air.
He was so consumed by his protective fury, by his need to destroy the Reapers for daring to take Rafael, that he didn't hear her follow him.
When Amara entered the office, he turned, shock breaking his mask of control for a fraction of a second.
“I told you to stay in the hall,” he ordered.
“I'm going with you.”
Amara's voice was steady, though her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. She looked at the holographic map, at the red dots representing enemy guards.
Leonidas looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. His protective fury came roaring back, but this time, directed at her.
“Absolutely not.” His voice was pure ice. “This isn't a game. This isn't one of your library rebellions. That is a kill zone.”
He moved closer to her, the King in his most sacred territory. “Have you forgotten the garden? Have you forgotten what they want? You're the target, Amara. You're the leverage they're using.”
“And that's exactly why I have to go!” she shot back. “He's my brother. He might not trust you.”
“I don't need his trust,” Leonidas snarled. “I need his body. My team goes in, neutralizes the threats, and extracts the target. End of story.”
“What if he runs?” she pressed, her mind racing. “He's a thief, yes, but he's terrified. He doesn't know you're there to 'save' him. He'll think you're just another group of monsters. He'll fight. He'll get killed in the crossfire.”
“That's a risk I'm willing to take.” His coldness was a slap in the face.
“But I'm not!” she shouted. “He's the only family I have! If he sees me, Leonidas… he'll stop. He'll listen to me.”
“Your presence there,” he said, his voice low and deadly, “puts all my men at risk. Puts you at risk. The answer is no. Now get out of my office.”
He turned his back on her—a final dismissal—and returned to his maps.
Amara stared at his broad back. The man who had kissed her. The man she had patched up. The man who was locking her away.
She used her last weapon. His logic.
“You left me locked up here last time,” she said, her voice cold and calculated now.
Leonidas stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“When you went to your meeting,” she continued, “I was locked in this penthouse. And I got out.”
He turned slowly. His eyes were dark slits of warning.
“Remember the garden, Leonidas?” she asked, taking a step toward him. “Remember how I got out? I got out once. I’ll get out again.”
“You can’t,” he said. “My Praetorians are out there. The order is ‘shoot to stop.’”
“You think I care about that now?” Amara laughed, a harsh, joyless sound. “My brother dies at midnight! You think a bullet in the knee is going to stop me?”
She was bluffing. Or maybe she wasn’t. She didn’t know anymore.
She moved closer, stopping inches from his chest, her posture unyielding as she challenged him.
“You can lock me in this office. But there are windows. There’s a ventilation duct. There’s always a way. I’m the ‘Civil Anomaly,’ remember? The unpredictable one.”
She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. He knew she was telling the truth. Her escape attempt was now her greatest leverage.
“So you choose,” she whispered, her voice a blade. “I’m going after my brother. Would you rather I be at your side, where you can see me? Where you can control me? Or would you rather have me out there alone, in their crosshairs, ruining your plan and making myself a hostage again?”
Leonidas closed his eyes for a moment. His jaw locked so hard he thought his teeth might shatter.
She had cornered him.
She had caught him in his own logic.
His possessive need to protect her—the same need that made him lock her up—was the exact reason he couldn’t leave her.
He couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust that she would stay put. Her desperate recklessness was her most dangerous trait. If he left her, she would find a way out. She would get caught. And the idea of her in the Reapers’ hands was a reality he couldn’t contemplate.
It was an impossible tactical risk. And the only solution… was her solution.
Keep his greatest vulnerability closer. So close he could touch her.
He opened his eyes. His gaze met Marius’s, who had slipped into the office silently during the confrontation and was watching everything with an expression of calculated resignation. Marius just raised an eyebrow. I warned you.
“Fine.”
The word came out of Leonidas, a brutal sound, torn from him.
Amara almost staggered with relief.
“But,” he continued, his voice now pure ice, gripping her arm with the same force he’d used to drag her from the garden, “you’re not a participant. You’re baggage. Understand?”
He didn’t wait for her answer.
“Marius,” he barked.
“Sir.”
“Bring the heaviest tactical vest we have. The one with full ceramic plates. If she can barely walk in it, all the better.”
He looked back at Amara, his eyes black and devoid of any warmth she’d seen before.
“You don’t speak. You don’t breathe without permission. You’ll be under Marius’s direct guard. He’ll have a hand on you at all times.”
He leaned in, his promise a deadly threat. “If I say ‘get down,’ you kiss the floor. If I say ‘run,’ you run. If you disobey a single order, Amara, if you hesitate for one second…”
He paused. “Marius has my express authorization to sedate you and carry you out like a sack. Are we clear?”
Amara looked at the King, her protector and her jailer. She had forced his hand. She was no longer just the one being protected.
She was going to war.
“Understood,” she said, her voice steady.