Chapter 110

~TORIN~

I crouched behind the counter, eyes scanning every corner of the bar, every shadow, every flicker of movement outside. The night was thick, heavy with anticipation, and I could feel my pulse hammering in sync with Marlowe’s rapid breathing at my side. She trusted me to keep her safe, and failure was not an option.

The shadow that had slipped down the alley earlier was moving again, deliberate, slow, testing the perimeter. Lucien. I had anticipated him, predicted his pattern, and yet I couldn’t shake the need to strike first if he made the wrong move. He was clever, obsessive, and dangerous. Most of all, he was relentless.

Marlowe’s hand found mine, small and tense, and I squeezed it reassuringly. Focus, Torin. Protect her, anticipate, counter. I could feel the heat of her body pressing against mine, a mix of fear and trust that gave me clarity.

“Stay close,” I murmured, voice low, almost a growl. “And don’t make a sound unless I say so.”

She nodded, eyes wide, biting her lip. I wanted to tell her she didn’t need to be afraid, but fear had become a constant companion in our lives. And right now, fear was useful—it kept her alert, kept her ready.

The shadow moved closer, closer to the side entrance. Lucien had chosen this angle deliberately, knowing the alley gave him cover. But he didn’t know the cameras had been repositioned, that every path he might take was mapped, observed, recorded. I could almost hear his thoughts, the arrogance that had led him here, and I smiled grimly. He’s walking into our trap.

Marlowe shivered, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “We’ve got this,” I said, though my jaw was tight with tension. “Just follow my lead. Nothing happens until I move.”

I could feel the weight of the moment pressing on me, the danger, the responsibility, the pulse of adrenaline that made my blood burn. This wasn’t about desire, not tonight. Tonight, it was about strategy, precision, and survival. One mistake, one lapse, and it’s all over.

Lucien’s figure appeared briefly, illuminated by the faint light spilling from the alley. He paused, calculating, scanning the bar’s exterior. I counted his steps in my head, memorizing his rhythm. He was testing, probing, looking for weakness. And he wouldn’t find one. Not here. Not with me.

“Get behind the counter,” I whispered, guiding Marlowe. “And keep low. Don’t let him see you until I give the signal.”

Her hands were clammy in mine, but her eyes were steady, trusting. That trust, that faith in me, fueled something ferocious inside me. I wasn’t just protecting her life—I was protecting her entire world, the one we were building together.

Lucien moved closer, stepping into the dim light near the back exit. I tensed, ready. Every muscle in my body was coiled, a spring loaded with lethal potential. One misstep from him, and I would act. I had studied his patterns, knew his habits, and I had anticipated this exact moment.

He glanced at the cameras, then at the alleyway, smirk twisting his lips. He thought he was clever. He always thinks he’s clever.

I moved silently, hand on the gun concealed at my side, heart steady, every sense sharpened. My eyes flicked to Marlowe, she wasn’t panicking, she was alert, ready, and that was everything I needed.

Then he made the mistake. A subtle misstep, a flash of hesitation as he adjusted his approach, and I struck.

“Now!” I whispered.

The trap we had set sprang perfectly. Lights flicked on, illuminating the alley, and every hidden camera fed directly to the monitors, catching his movements in real time. Jess’s team, positioned outside, closed in silently, leaving him no escape. Lucien froze, smirk faltering, realizing too late that he had walked straight into a corner we had prepared months ago.

I stepped forward, gun raised, voice low and deadly. “Stop. Hands where I can see them.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, but the confidence was gone, replaced with that same cold calculation I had seen before. “Torin,” he hissed, voice venomous, “you don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” I interrupted, stepping closer, keeping Marlowe shielded behind me. “You’ve made a mistake, Lucien. You came here thinking you could manipulate, intimidate, control. You can’t. Not tonight. Not her. Not me.”

He snarled, moving with sudden speed, but it was sloppy, unpracticed. The months of preparation we had done paid off, our plan anticipated every move. Within seconds, Burdock’s team had him restrained, and I pressed a firm hand against Marlowe’s back, guiding her out of the direct line of sight.

“You’re safe,” I murmured, voice low, hand brushing her hair from her face. “For now.”

Her eyes were wide, and I could feel the adrenaline still coursing through her body. She pressed herself to me, a silent plea for reassurance, for protection. I wrapped an arm around her, holding her tight. This is why I fight. This is why I survive. For her.

Lucien struggled against the restraints, rage twisting his face, but he was contained. I could see him analyzing, already calculating a way out, a new plan. But for tonight, he had lost.

I guided Marlowe to a chair, letting her sit, while I checked every entrance, every shadow, every potential weakness. My eyes never left Lucien, even as Jess and his team handled the immediate containment.

“You okay?” I asked her finally, voice softer, though still controlled.

She nodded, breath shaky, hands gripping her knees. “I… yeah. I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

I pressed a kiss to her temple, holding her close. “Always. I’ll always have you.”

And in that moment, the fire that had driven our passion, our need, was replaced by something sharper, more focused: protection. Control. Victory. Not for revenge, not for pride, but for her safety, for our future.

I turned back to Lucien, who now stared at me with pure hatred. “This isn’t over,” he spat. “I’ll find a way—”

I cut him off with a glare that promised more than words could. “Not tonight,” I said. “Tonight, you learn that she belongs to no one but herself. And I belong to her. That’s what you need to remember.”

Lucien’s eyes flicked to Marlowe, then back to me, a flicker of something like fear…or at least calculation, passing through. He knew he had underestimated us. And he would think twice before trying again.

I stayed close to Marlowe for the rest of the night, watching, guarding, ensuring that every shadow, every sound, every movement was accounted for. She was safe, at least for now, and that knowledge let me breathe again, though barely.

And as I watched her relax, trusting me completely, I realized that the real fight wasn’t just against Lucien. The fight was for every moment after, for the life we wanted together, for the world we were daring to build amidst the chaos.

Tonight, we survived.