Chapter Eleven
1275 Words
The blast didn’t arrive with a roar. It just hit like the air quit holding them up.
In a second, Amelia was standing in the rain, shielding Lila and looking for where to disappear too. In the next, everything broke apart. A wall of heat hit her chest, suddenly tossing her backward before her mind could even register the flash.
She hadn’t even processed it yet.
Her ears rang high and loud, she couldn’t hear anything else aside from the high pitched ringing that swallowed the whole area.
Amelia gasped, her lungs burning as they fought to remember how to work. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, but her instinct was still faster than the recovery.
Lila.
“Lila…” Her voice was a dry scratch, barely audible over the static in her ears.
“Mama…”
The reply was small and trembling, but it was the only thing that mattered. Amelia dragged herself over, ignoring the screaming ache in her ribs, and pulled her daughter into the hollow of her shoulder. She checked every inch of the girl, her hands, face and hair, to see if she got hurt.
Amelia pressed her forehead against Lila’s. “You’re okay,” she breathed. “We’re okay.”
But the air told a different story.
Acrid smoke curled through the raindrops. The alley was a graveyard of brick and twisted metal, walls shorn open like paper. Through the haze, voices began to rise. They weren’t the frantic shouts of survivors, they were calm and controlled.
Amelia’s heart hit the floor. She knew that tone.
She forced herself up, clutching Lila as she turned toward the mouth of the alley.
Voss was standing there.
He looked untouched. The rain slid off his heavy coat, and the ash seemed to steer clear of him, as if the destruction was a backdrop he had personally commissioned. For a moment, time just stopped. It was uncomfortably quiet between them, even with the world burning, he was the cold center.
Looking at him, Amelia felt a sharp, cold clarity. He is definitely different. Full stop.
“Get them,” he said.
His voice wasn’t raised. There was no anger, just the flat delivery of a man ordering a coffee.
Men moved instantly.
Amelia recoiled, tightening her grip on Lila. “No!”
Hands reached for the girl first. They were disturbingly gentle,firm, professional, and entirely unyielding.
Lila’s small fingers slipped from Amelia’s jacket.
“Mama!”
The scream was a physical blow. Amelia lunged, her fingers clawing at the air, but a pair of arms locked around her waist, pinning her. She fought like a cornered animal, kicking and screaming, but her strength was less compared to the men holding her.
“Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare!”
Voss didn't move a muscle. He didn't intervene, and he didn't look away. He just watched the light go out of her life with a clinical detachment that hurt worse than the explosion. He knew exactly what this would do to her.
Lila’s cries were muffled by the rain, then swallowed by the distance.
Amelia went limp, the internal pillar holding her up had finally broken.
When she woke up, the world was sterile.
The air was dry and smelled faintly of nothing.
She stared at the ceiling, it is high, white, and suffocatingly clean. This wasn't her room or a hospital. Her body was stiff, a dull throb radiating from her side, but the panic spiked before the pain could, her eyes scanned around the room for lila.
“Lila?”
The room offered no echo. It was filled with expensive, lifeless furniture. A place where nothing happened unless someone pushed a button.
Amelia staggered to the door and yanked the handle. It didn’t open.
“Lila!” she shouted, banging the door desperately, fear flushed over her, but silence was all she got in return.
She backed away, trying to steady her breath.
Think, Amelia. Panic is a luxury you don't have. She turned toward the center of the room, and the hair on her neck stood up.
“He’s here,” she whispered.
She couldn't explain it, but she felt his presence like a change in atmospheric pressure.
The lock clicked. The door swung inward.
Voss stepped inside. He looked rested, his composure perfectly intact. It made her stomach turn.
“Where is my daughter?”
Her voice was colder than she expected.
Voss closed the door with a soft thud. He didn't answer immediately, he just looked at her, leaning against the frame as if he were trying to remember why he liked her in the first place.
“She’s safe,” he said finally.
Amelia shook her head, her jaw tight. “That wasn't the question. Where is she?”
Voss walked deeper into the room, his movements measured. “You were running?”
“I left,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“And you thought that would be the end of it.”
“Well, I don't feel safe knowing you are around.”
That left a mark. A small shadow crossed his face, gone before it could settle.
“You don’t get to make those calls anymore,” he said.
“Who are you to tell me what calls to make?”
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush.
“Where is she, Adrian?”
He looked at her for a long time before finally answering, his eyes never left her for a moment. “I’ve made arrangements for your daughter.”
The word felt wrong to her ear. “What does that mean? What arrangements?”
“It means she’s somewhere she’ll be looked after, just away from you.”
Amelia felt the blood drain from her face. “No. You don't take a child and call it care. That is k********g. ”
“I never called it care” he shrugged, his voice rising, laying emphasis on the care. “But she's better off.”
“Better off?” Amelia stepped into his space, her eyes burning. “You mean away from me?”
He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He didn't touch her, but his presence felt like a physical weight.
“If you ever want to see her again,” he whispered, “You will abide by my rules, or I'll have her sold off.”
Amelia stared down at him, searching for the man she used to know. For a second, she saw a c***k. A flicker of something that wasn't quite as certain as he wanted her to believe.
“You wouldn’t do that.” she said.
He didn't blink. He didn't defend himself.
But the silence was different now. The air in the room felt thinner, more fragile. Amelia watched him, really watched him, and she realized the truth.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper but as sharp as a blade.
“dare me!” He tossed the words over his shoulder, not bothering to wait around for anyone to answer. Without taking another glance, he left.
The door followed with a quiet click, sealing the night behind him.
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