CHAPTER 3 - WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT
1714 Words
The first thing Amara felt was his grip.
Tight.
Unyielding.
Anchoring her in the darkness like he had already decided she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Stay behind me,” Lucian said.
His voice was low. Controlled.
But underneath it—something sharper had surfaced.
Not fear.
Never fear.
Instinct.
The kind that didn’t ask questions.
The kind that survived.
The door slammed open.
Boots hit the floor.
Fast. Coordinated.
Not random.
Not chaotic.
Targeted.
Lucian moved before Amara could think.
One second she was standing beside the table—
The next, she was pulled back, her body hitting the wall as he stepped in front of her.
Shielding her.
A gun appeared in his hand like it had always been there.
Smooth.
Natural.
Part of him.
Gunfire erupted.
Loud.
Violent.
The sound ripped through the room.
Amara flinched, her hands rising instinctively—but she forced them down.
Forced herself to stay present.
To watch.
Because this wasn’t something she could afford to look away from anymore.
Lucian fired.
Once.
Twice.
Precise.
Controlled.
No hesitation.
A body dropped just inside the doorway.
Another shadow moved behind it.
Lucian adjusted his stance, shifting slightly, pulling Amara further behind him without looking back.
“Don’t move.”
Her breath came fast.
Too fast.
“I wasn’t planning to,” she said, though her voice betrayed her.
Another shot cracked through the air.
Closer.
A bullet struck the wall near her shoulder.
Fragments scattered.
Amara sucked in a sharp breath.
Lucian reacted instantly.
His hand shot back, grabbing her wrist again—firmer this time.
“Move.”
He didn’t wait.
He pulled her with him.
Across the room.
Away from the door.
Toward the back.
Amara stumbled once, her heels slipping slightly, but he didn’t slow down.
Didn’t loosen his grip.
Didn’t even check if she could keep up.
Because he already knew she would.
Or she had no choice.
They reached the far wall.
Lucian pressed something—
A hidden panel she hadn’t noticed.
A soft click echoed.
Then—
A section of the wall shifted open.
Amara blinked.
“What—”
“Inside.”
No explanation.
No hesitation.
Just command.
Gunfire erupted again behind them.
Closer now.
More aggressive.
Lucian turned, fired twice toward the door, then shoved her toward the opening.
Amara hesitated.
“Lucian—”
“Inside.”
This time his voice wasn’t calm.
It was sharp.
Final.
She stepped in.
The space beyond was narrow.
Dark.
Barely lit by a dim strip of light running along the floor.
Lucian followed immediately, pulling the panel closed behind them.
The chaos outside dulled instantly.
Muted.
Distant.
Like the world had been sealed away.
Amara pressed her back against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“What is this place?” she asked.
Lucian moved ahead, scanning the corridor, his gun still raised.
“A contingency.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It’s not meant to.”
Amara pushed off the wall.
Her hands were still trembling.
Her heart still racing.
But something else was rising now.
Questions.
“You said they found me,” she said. “Who are they?”
Lucian kept walking.
“They’re the reason your brother is dead.”
Her stomach dropped.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.”
Frustration snapped.
“No, it’s not,” she said, stepping closer. “You don’t get to pull me into this and decide what I’m allowed to know.”
Lucian stopped abruptly.
She almost ran into him.
He turned slowly.
His eyes locked onto hers.
And everything stilled again.
“You think this is about control?” he asked quietly.
“It is.”
“No,” he said. “It’s about survival.”
A pause.
Then, softer—
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Amara didn’t look away.
“Then tell me.”
Lucian studied her.
Long.
Silent.
Like he was measuring something.
Then—
A distant explosion echoed through the building.
The ground trembled slightly.
Amara’s breath hitched.
Lucian’s attention snapped forward.
“Not here.”
He turned and continued walking.
Faster.
Amara followed.
Because there was no going back now.
No pretending she could step out of this.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Somewhere they won’t expect.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
They moved deeper into the corridor.
The air felt colder.
Tighter.
Like the walls themselves were holding secrets.
Amara’s mind raced.
Her brother.
The file.
The key.
The fact that she had been the target.
“You said my brother was protecting me,” she said. “From what?”
Lucian didn’t slow down.
“From something bigger than you understand.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then make me understand.”
Lucian stopped again.
Slower this time.
More deliberate.
He turned halfway toward her.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Then listen carefully.”
Her pulse quickened.
Because his tone had changed again.
Lower.
More dangerous.
“Your brother didn’t just find information,” Lucian said. “He found something he wasn’t supposed to see.”
Her chest tightened.
“What?”
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
“A network.”
Silence.
Amara frowned.
“What kind of network?”
He hesitated.
Then—
“The kind that doesn’t exist on paper.”
Her stomach dropped.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will.”
“That’s what you keep saying.”
“Because you keep asking the wrong questions.”
Frustration flared again.
“Then tell me the right ones.”
Lucian stepped closer.
Close enough to erase the space between them.
“The right question,” he said quietly, “is why your brother thought you were worth dying for.”
The words hit her like a blow.
Amara froze.
“He didn’t think that.”
“He did.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know what he found.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
“I’m not important,” she said. “I’m not connected to any of this.”
Lucian’s gaze didn’t waver.
“That’s what you think.”
“That’s what I know.”
“No,” he said softly. “That’s what you’ve been allowed to know.”
The words settled deep.
Too deep.
Something shifted inside her.
Doubt.
“What does that mean?” she asked quietly.
Lucian reached into his pocket.
Pulled out the key.
Held it between them.
“You still have this.”
Amara’s pulse quickened.
“Yes.”
“That key opens something your brother died protecting.”
Her breath caught.
“What?”
“Your past.”
The word landed heavy.
“My past?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will.”
She shook her head.
“No—stop saying that.”
Lucian stepped closer again.
His voice lowered.
“You don’t remember everything.”
Her stomach twisted.
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“I remember my life.”
“Do you?”
The question hit harder than expected.
Because for a split second—
Something flickered.
A gap.
A hesitation.
Small.
But real.
Her breath faltered.
Lucian saw it.
“You feel it,” he said.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not.”
Silence stretched between them.
Tense.
Real.
Amara looked away.
“This is ridiculous. You’re trying to confuse me.”
“I’m trying to prepare you.”
“For what?”
A pause.
“For what happens when you remember.”
Her heart slammed.
“I don’t need to remember anything.”
Lucian didn’t argue.
And that scared her more.
A metallic sound echoed ahead.
Both froze.
Lucian’s body tensed instantly.
“Stay behind me.”
This time, Amara obeyed without question.
Footsteps echoed from the other end of the corridor.
Slow.
Measured.
Confident.
Not rushing.
Not hiding.
Lucian raised his gun.
Amara’s breath hitched.
“Who is that?”
No answer.
Because the figure stepped into the dim light.
And everything shifted.
Different from Lucian.
Colder.
Sharper.
The man stopped a few feet away.
Tall.
Dressed in black.
Too calm.
His eyes moved from Lucian—
To Amara.
And when they settled on her—
He smiled.
Slowly.
Like he had been waiting.
“Well,” he said softly.
“There you are.”
Amara’s stomach dropped.
Lucian stepped in front of her.
Blocking her.
But it didn’t matter.
The man’s gaze never left her.
“Who are you?” she asked.
He tilted his head slightly.
Studying her.
“You really don’t remember.”
Her pulse spiked.
“Remember what?”
His smile widened.
“Even better.”
Lucian’s voice cut in.
Cold.
Sharp.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
The man didn’t look at him.
“Neither is she.”
Amara’s heart raced.
“What is he talking about?”
Lucian didn’t answer.
“Leave,” Lucian said.
The word carried weight.
The man finally looked at him.
And smiled.
“You still think you’re in control.”
Lucian didn’t react.
But something shifted.
Then the man looked back at Amara.
Recognition in his eyes.
“You should have stayed hidden.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No,” he said. “You don’t.”
A pause.
“But you will.”
Lucian’s grip tightened.
“Say another word.”
The man smiled.
“Or what?”
Silence answered him.
Then he stepped forward.
Lucian raised his gun.
“Don’t.”
The man stopped.
Only because he chose to.
He looked at Amara again.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Her voice shook.
“Know what?”
He tilted his head.
Then—
He spoke.
“You’re not who you think you are.”
Silence.
Crushing.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
His eyes darkened.
“It means…”
A pause.
“You were never supposed to survive.”
Lucian moved.
Fast.
Gun raised—
But the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then everything went dark.
And in the silence—
A click.
Cold.
Close.
Right behind her.
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