A Line in the Sand
Luca had faced death before. He had stood at the edge of it, looked it in the eye, and walked away. But as he stood in that dim warehouse, staring at the man tied to the chair, he realized something terrifying.
This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about who he was willing to become.
Killian watched him, patient as ever. Testing him.
Luca's heart pounded. His hands felt cold.
Then, a voice.
Soft. Steady. A memory that cut through the darkness like a blade of light.
"You're not like them, Luca. You never were."
Evelyn.
Her voice. Her warmth.
His grip on the gun tightened.
I can't lose myself. Not like this.
Luca turned, meeting Killian's gaze. "I don't kill for sport."
Killian raised an eyebrow, amused. "That so?"
Luca exhaled. Think. Find a way out.
He pressed the gun to the man's temple—but his finger didn't move.
And that hesitation was all Killian needed.
In a flash, Killian's hand was on his, twisting the gun away. Luca barely had time to react before he was shoved back against the wall, Killian's knife pressing lightly to his throat.
"Tsk, tsk," Killian mused. "I thought we had a deal."
Luca's pulse pounded.
He had just made a dangerous mistake.
And now, he was running out of time.
—
Meanwhile…
Evelyn paced her apartment, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.
Three days.
Three days since she had last heard from Luca.
Her stomach churned with unease. He had promised her—no more disappearing acts. No more secrets.
And yet, here she was. Waiting. Again.
Her fingers hovered over his name in her contacts.
Where are you, Luca?
With a deep breath, she hit dial.
Ring.
Ring.
No answer.
Her heart sank.
And then, a knock at the door.
Evelyn's breath caught. Hope flared, fragile and desperate.
She rushed to the door, yanking it open.
But it wasn't Luca.
It was a man she had never seen before. Dressed in black, eyes sharp as knives.
And he was smiling.
"Miss Carter," he said smoothly. "I think it's time we had a chat."
Evelyn's blood ran cold.
—
Next Chapter: The Price of Love