Chapter 3
1664 Words
Chapter 3
Crimson Code and Ex-Lovers
Julian Saint-Claire’s penthouse was a fortress of glass and steel, perched atop Saint-Claire Industries like a crown of thorns. Lex followed him inside, her boots leaving gritty streaks on the polished marble floor. The walls were bare except for a single painting—a twisted, abstract tangle of black and red that mirrored the chaos in her chest.
“Charming,” she said, nodding at the artwork. “Did you steal it from a haunted asylum?”
Julian shrugged off his ruined tuxedo jacket, revealing a tailored white shirt streaked with alley grime. “I commissioned it after my first hostile takeover. The artist called it ‘Corporate Cannibalism.’I found it… relatable.”
Lex rolled her eyes. “Spare me the therapy session. Where’s the tech wizard who’s supposed to crack this thing?” She flicked her mother’s locket, still warm from her furious grip.
“Patience, ma fauve.” Julian moved to a sleek console embedded in the wall, typing a code. A hidden door hissed open, revealing a dimly lit tech lab buzzing with servers and holographic screens. “Meet Rhea.”
A woman with neon-blue braids and a scowl deeper than the Mariana Trench swiveled in her chair. “Took you long enough. I’ve been decrypting Blackthorn’s chatter all night. Also, your espresso machine is possessed.” She tossed a USB at Julian. “They’re mobilizing. Whatever’s in that locket? They’ll kill for it.”
Lex stepped forward. “Can you open it?”
Rhea’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, the infamous Vega. Love your work—especially the one with the flaming cop car.” She snatched the locket, attaching it to a scanner. “Let’s see… biometric lock, quantum encryption, and—oh. It’s keyed to your DNA. Fancy.”
Julian leaned against a desk, arms crossed. “How long?”
“To hack the unhackable?” Rhea grinned. “Five minutes. But I’ll need a blood sample.”
Lex didn’t flinch as Rhea pricked her finger. The machine whirred, holograms flickering to life. The locket split open, revealing a microchip no bigger than a grain of rice.
“There’s your quantum chip,” Rhea said. “And… a message?”
A hologram flared—a woman’s face, weathered but warm, with Lex’s same defiant eyes.
“If you’re seeing this, mi corazón, then I’m gone.” Lex’s breath caught. Her mother’s voice, recorded years ago, echoed through the room. “The chip in this locket holds every secret Blackthorn tried to bury. Use it to destroy them. And trust no one—especially not the Saint-Claires.”
The hologram vanished.
Lex turned to Julian, fury blazing. “You knew. You knew my mother left this for me, and you lied.”
“I knew the chip existed,” he said evenly. “Not the message.”
“Bullshit.” She advanced on him. “Was any of it real? The gallery offer? The ‘scandal’ you wanted me to paint? Or was I just a bait?”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “The offer was real. The rest… complicated.”
Before Lex could throw a punch, Rhea whistled. “Uh, hate to interrupt this *beautiful* dumpster fire, but we’ve got company. Blackthorn just pinged the building’s security. They’re coming. Fast.”
Julian grabbed Lex’s arm. “We need to move. Now.”
She shook him off. “No. I’m done taking orders from you.”
“Fine.” He yanked a pistol from a hidden drawer, tossing it to her. “Stay and die. Or fight and live long enough to watch me burn.”
Lex caught the gun, its weight familiar. “You’re a bastard.”
“So I’ve been told.”
They fled to the rooftop helipad, the wind howling like a scorned lover. Below, black SUVs swarmed the streets. Julian typed coordinates into a sleek drone. “This will take the chip to a secure vault. Blackthorn can’t get it if we—”
“Lex?”
The voice froze her blood.
A man emerged from the stairwell—lean, tousled, with a grin that had once melted her teenage heart. Marco Torres. Her first love. Her first betrayal.
“Miss me, corazón?” he drawled, a pistol loose in his hand.
Julian stepped in front of Lex. “You’re trespassing.”
Marco ignored him, his eyes locked on Lex. “Heard you were in Paris. Figured you’d need saving.”
Lex’s finger hovered over the trigger. “From you?”
“From him.” Marco nodded at Julian. “Saint-Claire’s the one who sold your parents out to Blackthorn. He’s been playing you from the start.”
The world tilted. Lex glanced at Julian, his face unreadable. “Is that true?”
“No,” Julian said coldly. “But he’s not wrong about Blackthorn wanting you dead.”
Marco snorted. “Still spinning pretty lies, patrón? Tell her how your father made a deal with the Syndicate. Traded her family’s lives for a slice of their empire.”
Lex’s stomach dropped. No. No, no, no.
Julian’s silence was answer enough.
Marco edged closer. “Come with me, Lex. I’ve got a crew—people who actually give a damn about you. We’ll take the chip, burn Blackthorn, and you’ll never have to see this cabrón again.”
Julian raised his own gun. “Touch her, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”
Lex stood paralyzed, memories crashing over her: Marco teaching her to pick locks in Brooklyn, his laughter as they outran security guards. Then, years later, he vanished after her parents’ deaths—joining Blackthorn, she’d assumed. But here he was, a ghost with a gun and a promise.
“Why should I trust you?” she demanded.
Marco’s smirk faded. “Because I loved you once. And I’m trying to love you enough now to walk away.”
The admission hung in the air, fragile as glass.
A shot rang out. Lex ducked as a bullet sparked off the drone. Blackthorn agents flooded the rooftop.
“Decide fast, Vega!” Rhea’s voice crackled through Julian’s earpiece. “They’re hacking the elevators!”
Marco grabbed Lex’s hand. “Now, Lex!”
Julian moved to block him. “Don’t—”
Lex made her choice.
She kneed Marco in the groin, snatched the chip from the drone, and tossed it to Julian. “Move your ass, Saint-Claire!”
Julian’s grin was feral as they sprinted for the emergency stairwell. Marco’s roar of frustration followed them down.
“You’re welcome!” Lex yelled over her shoulder.
The stairwell spat them into an underground parking garage. Julian slammed a fist against a black sedan’s hood. “Get in!”
Lex didn’t argue. They peeled out, tires screeching, as Blackthorn’s agents opened fire. Bullets pinged off the trunk.
“Where to?” Julian barked.
“The docks,” Lex said. “I’ve got a… contact.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Another ex-lover?”
“Jealous?”
“Curious.”
She ignored him, directing him through backstreets until they reached a graffiti-covered warehouse. Inside, flickering neon lights illuminated a makeshift bar where a dozen criminals, hackers, and one very bored-looking contortionist nursed their drinks.
A woman with a shaved head and a snake tattoo glanced up. “Lex? Holy s**t, you’re alive!”
“Hey, Zee.” Lex hugged her old friend. “Need a favor.”
Zee’s gaze slid to Julian. “Who’s the suit?”
“Bait,” Lex said. Julian smirked.
Zee snorted. “You always did have a type. What’s the favor?”
“Stash us tonight. And get me a burner phone.”
“Done. But it’ll cost you.” Zee nodded at the contortionist. “Misha’s been dying to model for you. Nude. Very nude.”
Lex groaned. “Fine. But no glitter this time.”
The safe room was a cluttered attic above the bar, lit by a single bare bulb. Lex flopped onto a moth-eaten couch, exhaustion weighing her bones. Julian stood at the window, watching the street.
“You didn’t go with him,” he said quietly.
“Marco’s a liar,” Lex muttered. “Just like you.”
“But you believed him.”
She sat up, glaring. “Did your father really sell out my family?”
Julian turned, his face shadowed. “Yes. But I didn’t know until after he died. By then, Blackthorn owned half my company.” He stepped closer. “I’m trying to fix it, Lex. To fix everything.”
She laughed bitterly. “You don’t fix things. You burn them.”
“Maybe.” He knelt in front of her, his gaze searing. “But I’d burn the world to keep you safe.”
Lex’s breath hitched. “Why?”
Julian cradled her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. “Because you’re the first real thing I’ve touched in years.”
The kiss was electric, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues and pent-up fury. Lex clawed at his shirt, pulling him onto the couch. Julian’s hands slid under her jacket, mapping scars and secrets.
A knock shattered the moment.
Zee leaned in, holding a burner phone. “Sorry to kill the vibe, but Blackthorn’s offering ten million for your heads. Also, Misha’s ready.” She tossed the phone. “Naked. Very naked.”
Lex groaned. Julian chuckled against her neck.
“Priorities, ma fauve?”
She shoved him off. “Shut up.”
At dawn, Lex stood on the warehouse roof, staring at the chip in her palm. Julian joined her, handing her a coffee.
“What now?” he asked.
“We use it,” she said. “Unlock the data, expose Blackthorn, and watch them cr
umble.”
“And then?”
She met his gaze. “Then we see who’s left standing.”
Somewhere in the city, Marco was plotting. Blackthorn was hunting. And Lex?
She was done running.
- Writer
