My stomach turns, nausea rising. I tug at the rope again, desperate. “Why would they want me?”
His gaze sharpens, and his voice drops lower. “Because you are the reason I moved. You’re the reason I broke protocol.Youare… my weakness.”
I hate the way that lands. I hate that I have become a weakness in yet another man’s life, as if my existence is a liability. I swallow hard. “You said you hired Maddox. How did they find out?”
His one good eye narrows. His voice turns rough, urgent. “That’s what I need you to understand. Only a few people knew I made that call. Only Maddox would have that connection. Which means someone in Serafina’s crew must be working closely with someone in Maddox’s crew. Someone is selling information.”
My heart pounds hard. “A rat.”
“Yes,” he says. “A mole. I don’t know who. I don’t know how deep they are. But someone tipped Serafina off. Someone told them I hired Maddox to get you out.”
My mouth goes numb. Ozzy has been protecting me. Juno. Arrow. Dean. Rae. The whole team. A mole inside Maddox Security means nothing is safe.
Nothing.
My brain scrambles, trying to fit faces to betrayal.
Dean is too controlled. Too invested.
Rae is always on comms, always protecting.
Arrow? Juno? Ozzy? No, it can’t be Ozzy… can it?
But my mind flashes to something Ozzy said earlier, how Serafina is the kind of name that follows Dean, how the world keeps colliding.
I swallow. “Do you know Serafina’s real name?”
His lips twitch, and he shakes his head faintly. “No. She uses layers. She uses people. She never gives you her whole face.” He coughs again, grimacing. “But she has someone close. Someone who passes information for her. Someone who keeps her two steps ahead.”
My skin crawls. I want to ask a hundred more questions. I want to shake him and scream at him for leaving. I want to collapse into him and demand he prove he is real. I want Ozzy. I want the safehouse. I want my body back, my mind back, my life back.
Instead, I whisper, “What happens now?”
His gaze flicks to the shadows around us. “Now you stay calm. Now you keep your eyes open. Now you trust no one until Maddox clears their own house.”
His voice shakes slightly, and it cracks something inside me because it sounds like fear.
My father is afraid.
The lights buzz again. A distant sound echoes through the building, faint but sharp. A thud. Then another.
Electricity prickles along my forearms, urging me to run or fight. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes dart to the doors. “What was that?” I whisper.
My father’s head tilts, listening. His face changes, focus sharpening despite the bruises. “Someone’s here,” he murmurs.
My pulse spikes. “They’re coming back.”
The fear hits hard and fast, a wave that makes my hands shake against the rope. I press my shoulders back and force myself to breathe through my nose. If I panic, I lose control.
Another sound. Louder now. Metal on metal. A deep crack like wood splitting or a lock snapping.
I jerk in the chair. “Oh God.”
My father’s voice goes tight. “Listen to me, Salem. If Serafina’s men come in here, you do not speak about Maddox or the mole. You understand?”
I swallow hard, eyes wide. “Okay.”
Footsteps thunder somewhere in the distance, fast and controlled. Not sloppy. Not casual. Not the dragging pace of men who think they own you. Then voices, low and sharp. Orders.