Chapter 142
**ADAM**
The map stretched across the oak table looked more like a battlefield than the community I had sworn to protect. Marked patrol routes, reinforced wards, fallback positions—it was all there, an intricate web of defenses that had consumed the last few days of our lives.
Cassius leaned forward, his hand braced against the table’s edge. “It’s not enough to keep Alaric out,” he said, his tone heavy. “We need a plan that forces his hand. Something that doesn’t just defend—but traps him.”
Sasha exhaled slowly, his blue eyes narrowing. “And we need to do it without spooking him. If he even suspects, he’ll vanish before we get close.”
Fares, calm as ever, rested his chin on his hand. “That’s the key, isn’t it? He trusts his eyes. His spies. He believes he knows our rhythms. We use that against him. Feed him what he expects to see until the moment we spring the net.”
I studied the lines, letting their words sink in. A plan was forming, threads weaving together in my mind like a tapestry only half-visible.
“An illusion,” I murmured.
Three sets of eyes turned to me.
“We give him what he wants to see,” I continued, heat building behind the words. “The illusion of weakness. A hole in our defenses that isn’t real. Something that draws him close enough for us to strike.”
Cassius straightened, his expression sharpening. “Bait.”
“Not just bait,” I said. “A stage. Every player where they need to be. Every contingency covered. If we do this right, he won’t realize it’s a trap until it’s too late.”
Sasha’s jaw tightened. “And Aria?”
Her name hung in the air, fragile and burning.
“She’ll be safe,” I said firmly. “That’s non-negotiable. She, Matteo, Leon, and Skylar—they’re the heart of this. We protect them above all else.”
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Fares nodded once, his eyes gleaming. “It can work. But it’ll need precision. Discipline.”
Cassius gave a grim smile. “You’ll have it.”
Sasha leaned forward, tapping a point on the map. “We’ll need decoys. Movement in places Alaric expects us to be. If he sees what looks like us making mistakes, he’ll bite.”
The conversation spiraled deeper into details—timing, misdirection, allies we could trust. Not all of it was spoken aloud; some of it passed between us in glances and unfinished sentences. The fewer who knew the whole picture, the safer it would be.
But as the hours bled away, something solid formed between us: a plan not just to defend, but to end this.
By the time I returned to the apartment, the night was thick and quiet. The weight of strategy still pressed against me, but the moment I stepped inside, it shifted.
Aria was on the sofa, wrapped in a soft blanket, Matteo curled against her chest while Leon slept in the bassinet nearby. A small smile tugged at her lips when she saw me.
“You’re late,” she murmured.
“Worth it,” I said, lowering myself beside her. “We’re close.”
Her eyes searched mine, questions hovering unspoken, but she didn’t press. She knew I couldn’t give her the details yet—not until it was time.
Instead, she leaned into me, her warmth seeping through the exhaustion that clung to my bones. Matteo stirred, his tiny fist waving, and I reached out to brush a finger across his dark hair.
“He’s strong,” I whispered.
“They both are,” Aria said, glancing at Leon. “Sometimes I think they already know more than we do.”
I chuckled softly, though the sound was tight. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
For a long while, we just sat there, breathing in sync, the quiet punctuated by the soft noises of our children. It was a fragile peace, carved out of a world that wanted to shatter it.
“Adam?” Aria’s voice was gentle, but steady.
“Mm?”
“You’ll promise me something?”
“Anything.”
Her gaze locked on mine, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t carry this alone. Whatever you’re planning, whatever comes next—I need to stand with you. Not behind you.”
Emotion tightened my throat. I brushed a strand of hair from her face, pressing my forehead to hers. “You already do. More than you know.”
Matteo let out a soft whimper, and I shifted to take him from her arms. He fit against my chest like he belonged there, his tiny heartbeat thrumming steady and sure. Leon stirred in his cradle, and Aria reached to settle him, her touch tender.
Watching her like that—with both our sons, her strength and vulnerability intertwined—ignited something unbreakable in me.
Alaric wanted to fracture us. To turn fear into weakness. He didn’t understand that this—this bond, this family—was our greatest weapon.
I pressed a kiss to Matteo’s head, then met Aria’s gaze again.
“No matter what happens,” I said, voice low but certain, “he won’t take this from us. Not you. Not them. Not ever.”
Her lips curved into the smallest, fiercest smile. “Then we’re agreed.”
We were.
And when the time came, Alaric would learn the truth of what he was up against.
Not just a plan. Not just soldiers.
But a family willing to fight until the end.
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