Chapter 9 - The Second Arrival
I spun around, pulling my hand back from the wall as the heavy steel fire door at the end of the corridor was violently kicked open from the outside.
A figure stepped through the smoke and flashing red warning lights.
He wore a dark, rain-soaked trench coat over a tailored black suit, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, his face carved from cold, unyielding granite. In his right hand, he held a heavy steel crowbar; in his left, a matte-black automatic weapon resting casually at his side.
Luke Mercer.
My breath caught in my throat. My mind raced in disbelief. Luke? How was he here? How did he find this place?
Luke didn't look at me at first. His cold, predatory gaze swept across the sterile white corridor, taking in the security cameras, the flashing alarms, and the armed guards sprinting around the far corner. Then, his eyes locked onto the glass partition where Dr. Harrison stood holding the infant.
For a terrifying, heart-stopping second, the air in the hallway seemed to freeze solid.
“Mr... Mr. Mercer?” Harrison stammered, the arrogant smirk completely vanishing from his face as he stared through the glass at the man who commanded the most feared underground empire in New York. “You... you shouldn't be here. This is a private medical research facility—”
“You’re holding my child, Dr. Harrison,” Luke said. His voice wasn't loud. It was soft, level, and carried the quiet, devastating weight of an avalanche about to bury a mountain.
The man in the charcoal suit reached desperately for his holster, but before his fingers could even brush the grip of his pistol, Luke raised his weapon with terrifying speed.
Bang!
A single round shattered the upper corner of the reinforced glass partition, showering the nursery floor with sparkling shards and sending Harrison ducking behind a steel medical cart with a terrified shriek.
“Drop the weapon, or the next bullet goes through the doctor’s skull instead of the glass!” Luke roared, stepping forward until he stood right beside me in the hallway.
He didn't look down at me. He kept his eyes locked on the terrified men inside the nursery, but his left hand reached out, wrapping firmly around my trembling fingers. His grip was warm, solid, and fiercely protective—anchoring me to the earth when my knees threatened to buckle entirely.
“Avery,” Luke muttered, his voice dropping into a rough, intimate whisper meant only for me. “I told you ninety-three days ago I was walking away to keep you safe. I was a fool. We finish this together.”
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Before I could answer, heavy tactical boots echoed from the main stairwell behind us. Half a dozen armed security guards rounded the corner, their rifles raised, screaming for us to drop our weapons.
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