The boat cut silently across the water, its hull slicing the midnight tide like a blade. Sienna sat bound and blindfolded in the back cabin—not tightly, not roughly—but unmistakably taken.
She could feel every bump of the waves. Count each second of silence. And she could smell him.
Silas.
Even before he spoke, she knew he was there.
"You should have told me," he said.
She stayed quiet.
He didn't raise his voice. That wasn't his way. Instead, the quiet deepened around them until the sea itself seemed to hold its breath.
"I would've given it to you, Sienna," he said at last. "You didn't have to steal my iris pattern."
Her voice, when it came, was hoarse. "I didn't steal anything. I set a trap. You were never the target."
A long pause.
Then a bitter laugh. "You still think that makes it better."
The boat jerked as it docked. Moments later, she was hauled to her feet—not by force, but with deliberate control. She didn't resist as he removed her blindfold.
They were on a private island, windswept and sharp-edged. The structure behind them wasn't a villa. It was a fortress.
He led her inside in silence. The walls were concrete, windowless, and cool. No servants. No cameras. No technology that could be traced or tracked.
This wasn't a vacation home. It was a bunker.
He took her to a high-ceilinged room lined wall-to-wall with images, documents, floor plans, and maps.
She froze.
Pinned at the center of it all was a single photo.
Dr. Minghao Chen.
Her master.
Below it, a web of red string connected dozens of other faces—executives, scientists, politicians, and one unmistakable figure in the shadows.
K.
"This," Silas said, voice stripped bare, "is everything I've been working on. Before I knew who you were. Before I even understood who I was. This is why I came back to Sterling. Not for the family. Not for the fortune. For him."
He turned to her slowly.
"For your master."
Sienna's chest tightened.
"You've been investigating his death," she whispered.
"From the moment I remembered my first needle," Silas said.
She approached the wall slowly, her eyes scanning over medical reports and declassified documents. There, in the corner, was a blood-stained document with a Sterling Research watermark. Her master's name was circled—in red.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she said, her voice suddenly raw. "Why keep this from me?"
"Because I needed to know if you were here for revenge… or something worse."
She looked at him then. Really looked.
And understood.
"You thought I might be K."
His silence said everything.
Sienna took a step back, as if he'd struck her.
He reached for her instinctively. "I had to be sure."
"No, you had to control the board," she snapped. "Even if it meant doubting the one person who's been bleeding beside you the whole way."
The storm between them peaked. Then, it broke.
Thunder cracked outside. The power flickered.
And in that darkness, their eyes met—not with anger, but with something deeper. Raw. Unprotected.
"Ask me," she said, stepping closer, "and I'll tell you anything."
His voice trembled slightly. "Why didn't you walk away? When it got this bad?"
"Because I saw the same pain in your eyes that used to be in his," she whispered. "And I don't leave the people I love."
Silas stared at her like a man who had finally been handed his name after years of being called a number.
He closed the distance between them. His hand reached her cheek—not with dominance, but reverence.
Then he kissed her.
Not like the fire-driven kisses of earlier chapters in their war—but slow, full of withheld truths and unspoken forgiveness.
Outside, lightning tore across the sky.
Inside, they finally allowed themselves to feel something other than survival.
And just as the storm calmed, a power switch flicked somewhere in the mansion. The screens came alive.
One camera had been running this whole time—offline, hidden behind the wallboard. It showed the basement level. A figure moved through the shadows.
Pierce?
No.
The footage zoomed—stabilized.
It was Jenna Nan.
She was holding a vial.
Sienna leaned closer. The camera had no audio. But her lips were unmistakable as she mouthed something to the lens.
"You're not the only ones who know how to lie."