The sun was a searing, blinding disc now, bathing the highway in accusatory white light. The deadline had passed forty minutes ago, and every nerve ending in my body was tight, waiting for the consequence of my inaction. I had chosen neither White nor Red. I had chosen a third option, one Adrian Lewis had failed to calculate: Presence.

I rode in the backseat of a black, hired sedan, gripping the armrest so tightly my knuckles were white. The driver, oblivious, navigated toward the heart of the blast zone.

Turning onto the long, tree-lined drive of Adrian’s estate, the first sign of collapse was the gates. The massive, wrought iron sculptures were standing slightly ajar, unsecured—a terrifying sign of negligence. The grounds, too, were neglected. The once-pristine landscaping was shaggy and untrimmed; the order was gone.

I paid the driver, ignoring his puzzled look at the early hour and the destination, and walked quickly to the massive oak front door, gripping the silver safe key I had stolen. I didn’t knock. I inserted the key into the lock, turned it with a smooth, heavy click, and pushed the door open.

The cavernous foyer smelled the same—expensive wood polish, old books, and sandalwood—but the air was stale, and dust motes danced in the gloom. The house, once a fortress of control, felt dead.

“You’re late.”

The voice came from the drawing room to my left. It was quiet, rough, almost rusty.

I walked in. Adrian was sitting in a high-backed leather chair, facing the unlit fireplace. He was in a rumpled white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up haphazardly. He looked diminished, profoundly eroded. There was a glass of scotch next to him. At 7:00 AM.

He didn’t look at me. He stared at the empty grate.

“The deadline was dawn,” he said, taking a slow sip. “You didn’t text. You didn’t call. By my own rules, I should be burning your world to the ground right now, Sophie. You left me no choice but Red.”

“Why aren’t you?” I asked, my voice echoing in the large room. I stood near the doorway, establishing my perimeter.

He finally turned his head. The sight of him—the deep, bruised hollows under his eyes, the unshaven jaw—stole my breath. He looked like a man who had been haunting his own house, surviving on anxiety and scotch.

“Because you’re here,” he said, his voice flat with weary inevitability. “And I was curious what a refusal of both submission and destruction looked like.”

He set the glass down and stood up, walking toward me. “You came to stop me. You came to beg for your friend, Cleo Rossi, realizing the Red protocol was real.”

“I came because I wanted to see the monster before he ate me,” I said, holding firm. “And because I wanted to know why you risked everything to terrorize me.”

Adrian let out a dry, humorless laugh, turning to the window overlooking the overgrown grounds.

“You think this is about terror? You think this is a game?”

“You threatened to ruin my life, Adrian. That is terror.”

He spun around, his expression suddenly fierce, the apathy vanishing, replaced by wounded fury. “I threatened you because it was the only way to make you see me again! The silence of the last five months was killing me!”

He paced, agitated. “Do you know what happened after they dragged me out of that classroom? They performed an autopsy on my entire life. They didn’t need a criminal conviction; they just needed a scandal. They gutted me, Sophie.”

I stayed silent.

“They stripped my tenure. They revoked my chair. They blacklisted me from every major academic institution on the East Coast. My research, my publications, the reputation I spent fifteen years building with ruthless precision? It’s ash. I am a pariah. I am the cautionary tale whispered in the faculty lounge.”

The revelation hit me hard. His career was his armor. Without it, he was raw.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” he snapped, taking a step closer. “That’s not the confession I drove you all the way out here for.”

“No,” he groaned, pulling back. “I decided that I would do anything to get you back in this room. Even if I had to become the villain you think I am.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify