The rain hit like bullets, sharp and relentless, soaking Noa’s jacket as he stepped onto the cracked concrete of the abandoned shipping yard. The location she sent was classic: a wide open kill box with nowhere to hide, no exits, no backup.
He came alone.
His grip tightened on his gun, but the weight of it didn’t steady his pulse. It hammered anyway, loud, messy, screaming that this was a suicide mission.
But he wasn’t leaving Dominik to die.
Not after everything.
Dominik wasn’t just an enemy. He was the boy who’d grown up in the same cage. He was the one person who understood what it meant to be programmed, built, and broken by the same woman.
Family wasn’t clean. It was sharp and twisted and wrong. And still, Noa couldn’t let him die.
A voice sliced through the rain. “You came.”
