Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five...
The red digital numbers on the desktop monitor bled into the darkness of the room, slicing through the suffocating silence. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Julian’s voice echoed through the penthouse, smooth and completely unbothered as he counted out the numbers alongside the monitor, weaponizing the seconds.
I looked at Aunt Marissa, whose muted, desperate sobs were the only sound breaking the countdown. The lights beneath her chair continued blinking, a reminder of the thermite charges strapped below her. I looked at Lena, who was trembling slightly beside me, her newly applied glossy lips parted in silent horror. Then I looked at Silas. His lone dark eye was fixed on mine, completely steady, completely lethal. He wasn’t looking at
