CHAPTER 55 – The Price of Freedom

Pain was temporary.

That's what Alexander kept telling himself as he forced his battered body to move. Every breath was agony, every step a reminder of the beating he had endured. But he had survived. Again.

The darkness of his father's prison still clung to him. The scent of blood and sweat, the cold bite of chains that had kept him shackled. But now, there was something else—a sliver of light in the distance, footsteps approaching.

"Alexander."

Eve's voice was both urgent and desperate. He lifted his head, vision swimming, and saw her framed in the dim light. She was breathless, eyes wild with determination as she hurried toward him.

"How—?" His voice was hoarse, raw from hours of silence and suffering.

"Not the time," she cut in, already working at the restraints. "Can you move?"

He let out a low chuckle, wincing as pain laced through his ribs. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

She freed his wrists first, then his ankles, careful but fast. The moment the last cuff clattered to the ground, he tried to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, but Eve caught him before he could collapse.

"We have to go." She looped his arm over her shoulders, supporting his weight. "Now."

Alexander nodded, shoving aside the pain. Escape was the only option.

They moved through the labyrinth of corridors, each shadow holding the threat of discovery. Every step was calculated, every breath shallow. The compound was eerily quiet—a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him.

As they neared an exit, the silence shattered.

A voice—calm, controlled—echoed through the hall.

"You think running will save you?"

Alexander froze. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

His father stood at the end of the hall, flanked by two guards. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those cold, calculating eyes—burned with something darker.

Eve stiffened beside him, but Alexander's grip tightened around her hand. He took a step forward, standing as tall as his battered body would allow.

His father sighed. "You're making a mistake, son."

Alexander smirked, blood dripping from his lip. "Wouldn't be my first."

His father tilted his head. "You think this is victory? Escaping?" He took a slow step forward. "You're only delaying the inevitable."

Alexander's jaw clenched, but he didn't move.

"I let you live because I thought you could be salvaged," his father continued. "But you insist on proving me wrong."

His gaze flickered to Eve, and Alexander tensed.

"Do you know what the price of rebellion is?" his father asked, voice softer now, almost mocking. "It's blood. And since you refuse to pay with your own, someone else will."

Alexander's stomach turned to ice.

"Touch her," he growled, "and I'll end you."

His father smiled—a cruel, knowing smile. "Then you should've never brought her into this."

Before Alexander could react, the guards raised their weapons. But Eve was faster. She yanked him back, gunfire ripping through the air as she fired first. The moment shattered into chaos.

They ran.

Bullets tore through the walls behind them as they sprinted through the compound. Every movement sent fire through Alexander's broken body, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.

The exit loomed ahead, freedom just within reach. But even as they burst through the doors, into the cold night, he knew this wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

They stole a car, tires screeching as Eve floored the gas. The city blurred past them, neon lights and shadows blending into a haze of adrenaline and exhaustion.

Alexander leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Then, he exhaled sharply. "He's not going to stop."

Eve tightened her grip on the wheel. "Neither will we."

She glanced at him, eyes fierce, unyielding. "I don't need a savior, Alexander." Her voice was steady, filled with something that made his chest tighten. "I need the man who refuses to kneel."

Alexander stared at her, something shifting inside him. The war wasn't over.

It had only just begun.