THE LAST CHECK IN

CHAPTER 8 - Consent and Control

Rafe’s hand hovered near Naina’s elbow.

He didn’t grab.

He didn’t push.

He asked, low and fast: “Do you trust me?”

Naina’s throat tightened.

In the last hour, she’d learned three things:

Atlas lied.

Her sister was alive.

And Rafe Mercer was either her only chance or another trap.

Naina swallowed hard.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

Rafe nodded once. “Fair.”

Then he lowered his voice further. “But I’m going to do something dangerous. If I say run, you run. No debate.”

Naina’s breath hitched. “Okay.”

Liora watched them, amused. “Sweet. A plan.”

Rafe’s eyes snapped to Liora. “You like controlling people.”

Liora smiled. “I like predictable outcomes.”

Rafe nodded slowly. “Then predict this.”

He moved—fast—toward the wall-mounted fire panel. He yanked it open and pulled the emergency lever.

An alarm blared instantly—loud, violent.

Sprinkler pipes hissed.

Liora’s smile vanished for the first time. “What did you do?”

Rafe shoved Naina behind a concrete pillar. “Cover your head.”

Water exploded from the ceiling sprinklers, blasting the garage in a sudden icy storm.

Liora cursed and stepped back from the black car, wiping water from her face.

In the chaos, the rolling garage door began to lift automatically—emergency release.

Rafe grabbed Naina’s wrist. “Run.”

Naina ran.

But she didn’t run away from the garage.

She ran toward the screen.

Toward Meera.

Because Meera was still on that feed, still tied, still watching.

And Naina refused to leave her behind.

Rafe shouted, sharp: “Naina!”

Naina didn’t stop.

The screen flickered.

Then the feed cut.

The wall display went black.

Naina’s blood ran cold.

Because the last thing she saw before it died was Meera’s face—eyes wide—and a hand coming down from behind her with a cloth.

Naina spun.

Liora stood ten feet away, soaked, furious, holding her tablet like a weapon.

“You just made this personal,” Liora hissed.

Rafe stepped between them, chest heaving, eyes lethal.

“It was always personal,” he said.

And above the alarm, a new sound cut through the garage:

A second elevator bell.

Another car arriving.

Not emergency services.

Not rangers.

Something else.

And a male voice echoed through the speakers—calm, authoritative, deadly familiar.

“Dr. Voss,” the voice said. “Enough.”

Liora went still.

Rafe’s face hardened.

Because he recognized the voice too.

And whatever was coming next wasn’t the building’s security.

It was Atlas’s real power.