Chapter 117

~TORIN~

The city was gray and damp, the drizzle continuing from early morning, but I barely noticed the weather. My attention was entirely on Marlowe and the unfolding threat of Lucien. I could feel him out there, somewhere, pressing, calculating, testing our defenses, and it made my jaw clench every time I thought about it.

I watched her as she moved through the safe house, gathering her bag, checking over her shoulder like she expected to see someone lurking. I wanted to reassure her, hold her close, shield her from everything, but I also knew she needed to see me steady, calm, in control. Fear makes us predictable. I can’t let her see that.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, thinking through our options. Lucien wasn’t just a threat; he was meticulous, patient, and clever. He knew my weaknesses, my patterns, and he was relentless. He had already demonstrated he’d stop at nothing to possess her, and that obsession made him dangerous in a way most people couldn’t comprehend.

I moved closer to her, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “We stick to the plan. No deviations. Lucien thrives on chaos, on unpredictability—but so do we. And right now, we have the advantage of preparation.”

Marlowe’s eyes met mine, wide, alert, yet tinged with exhaustion. “How long do we have before he makes his move?” she asked softly.

I swallowed hard, forcing a controlled exhale. “Could be hours. Could be days. That’s the problem—he doesn’t follow a predictable schedule. We anticipate, we prepare, we protect. That’s all we can do.”

Her hand brushed mine, a small, fleeting connection, and I felt the surge of protective instinct tighten in my chest. I wanted to rip through the city and find Lucien, make him regret even thinking about crossing us, but I had to think tactically. She needed me alive. She’s mine to protect. Not just with my fists, but with my mind.

I pulled out my phone, scanning the updates Casey had sent moments ago. Surveillance footage, location pins, timestamps—it was enough to form a rough map of Lucien’s movements. “He’s testing,” I muttered, more to myself than her. “Watching reactions, probing weaknesses. But he hasn’t committed yet. That gives us the edge.”

Marlowe tilted her head slightly, lips pressing together as if she were calculating along with me. “Edge or trap?” she asked quietly.

“Could be both,” I admitted, voice low. “That’s why we need to stay unpredictable. We can’t afford to leave anything to chance.” I gestured toward the maps on the table. “I’ve marked the spots he’s hit before, the patterns we’ve seen. If he follows them, we know where to set countermeasures. If he deviates, we’re ready for that too. We adapt. We anticipate. We survive.”

Her fingers brushed over the marked locations, tracing the routes carefully. “And if he targets someone else? Someone close to us?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the tension behind it was undeniable.

I crouched in front of her, capturing her gaze. “Then we stay ahead. We protect, and we strike before he can act. Lucien doesn’t realize that we operate as one unit. He underestimates the bond we have. He hasn’t seen our instincts in sync, our ability to read each other, to anticipate threats together. That’s where he’s vulnerable.”

She nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. “I trust you, Torin,” she said, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of fear. “I always have.”

That honesty hit me harder than I expected. I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and in that brief, intimate gesture, I made a silent vow. I won’t let him hurt you. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not ever.

I pulled back, straightening, and focused on the task at hand. “We’re not reacting anymore,” I said, voice firm. “We’re dictating the game. Lucien thinks he’s hunting, but he’s walking into our terms, our rules. We control the narrative.”

Marlowe’s hand found mine again, squeezing lightly. “And if he escalates too fast?”

I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Then we escalate smarter. Faster. We’re not reckless, Marlowe. We’re precise. And I promise, we’ll get through this.”

I grabbed the secure line phone from the counter, dialing Casey. When he picked up, I didn’t waste words. “Give me a rundown. Every movement he’s made in the last twenty-four hours, every contact, every location he’s checked.”

Casey’s voice was clipped and professional. “Understood. I’ve got visual on two locations he’s been testing, minor surveillance, nothing yet that indicates he’s committed. But there’s something off—he’s focused on a civilian, not the usual patterns. Could be bait. Could be misdirection.”

I clenched my jaw, eyes narrowing. “Understood. Keep eyes on the mark. No deviation. Notify me immediately if he moves toward anyone close to Marlowe. We’ll handle this.”

I hung up, pressing a hand to my forehead, feeling the tension in my skull. Lucien’s escalation wasn’t a surprise, but the fact that he had chosen someone else as bait sent a surge of anger through me. Stay calm. Don’t give him the reaction he wants.

Marlowe shifted beside me, sensing the change. “Torin… what is it?”

“He’s testing limits,” I admitted. “Someone’s in his sights. It’s part of his obsession, his plan. But we’re not going to let it happen.” My hand found hers, entwining fingers, grounding both of us. “We’re ready, and we’ll adapt.”

She leaned slightly into me, a small measure of trust and vulnerability, and I felt the weight of responsibility press heavier. Every step we took, every precaution, was for her safety. This isn’t just a game. It’s life and death.

I pulled her close, whispering against her ear. “We’ll stay sharp, we’ll stay unpredictable, and we’ll make sure he regrets every move he makes. I won’t let him touch you. Not now. Not ever.”

Her eyes softened, and I felt a brief reprieve, a small calm amid the storm of anticipation. But I knew this moment wouldn’t last. Lucien was patient. He was relentless. And he would strike.

But so would we.

We spent the remainder of the day preparing, reviewing escape routes, securing safe locations, and coordinating with Casey and the team. Every step was methodical, deliberate, designed to keep Lucien guessing, to maintain the upper hand. And through it all, Marlowe stayed close, alert but composed, letting me lead while still contributing, proving again and again why we were stronger together.

As the evening light faded into night, I stood by the window, Marlowe at my side, scanning the streets. The drizzle had lessened, but the city seemed sharper, darker somehow, as though sensing the danger. I placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head.

“No matter what comes,” I whispered, “we face it together. And we survive.”

Her lips brushed my cheek, a silent acknowledgment of trust, of unity, of the bond that no obsession could break.

And deep down, I knew one thing for certain: Lucien would push, he would escalate, and he would try everything. But as long as we were together, we would be ready. Every move he made, every shadow he cast, would meet our precision, our vigilance, our fire.

Tonight, we didn’t just survive. We prepared. And that would make all the difference when Lucien finally made his next move.