Evie noticed the SUV the second she stepped out of the parts warehouse.

Black.

Engine running.

Parked across the street beneath flickering rain-soaked traffic lights.

Nobody got out.

That part bothered her more.

Rain tapped steadily against the hood of her car while she balanced two coffee cups in one hand and dug through her jacket pocket for keys with the other.

The street should’ve been louder this time of night.

Instead it sat strangely still beneath the rain.

No pedestrians.

No music from the liquor store on the corner.

Even traffic sounded farther away than usual.

Evie looked toward the SUV again.

“…Cool,” she muttered. “Love being perceived.”

The rear passenger door opened slowly.

A man stepped out wearing a dark coat over tactical gear sharp enough to look expensive. Silver threaded through his hair near the temples. One thin scar crossed the side of his mouth.

Not NOCTURNE.

Wrong posture.

Cassian’s team moved like soldiers pretending not to be dangerous.

This man looked perfectly comfortable letting people know.

He crossed the street at an easy pace while rainwater slid from the shoulders of his coat.

Two more men exited the SUV behind him.

Weapons visible.

No attempt to hide them.

Evie sighed softly at the sky.

“You know, subtlety is free.”

The silver-haired man stopped a few feet away from her car.

“You’re Evie Quinn.”

“That depends heavily on whether this conversation ends in paperwork.”

One of the men behind him laughed once under his breath.

The silver-haired man didn’t.

Rainwater dripped from the edge of the warehouse roof beside them.

“You spend a lot of time with Cassian.”

Evie shifted the coffee cups carefully between her hands.

“Wow. Starting strong with the creepy surveillance energy.”

His eyes moved briefly toward the second coffee cup.

“For him?”

“Maybe I just drink aggressively.”

The corner of his mouth moved slightly.

Not a smile exactly.

More like recognition.

“Cassian usually works alone.”

“Cassian also owns three identical black jackets. The man clearly struggles with personal growth.”

Still nothing from him.

Evie looked toward the SUV again.

Then back at the men behind him.

All armed.

All watching her carefully.

Her stomach tightened a little.

Not panic.

Just math.

Bad odds.

Bad location.

No exits she liked.

“You gonna introduce yourself,” she asked, “or are we all pretending this isn’t a kidnapping?”

The man slid one hand into his coat pocket.

“Viktor.”

There it was.

The name settled immediately into every ugly story Kane and Dominic avoided finishing out loud.

Garage fire.

Warehouse attacks.

Bodies.

Evie nodded once.

“Ah. So you’re the emotionally exhausting one.”

Rain tapped softly against the roof of her car.

Viktor studied her another second.

“You’re calmer than expected.”

“Honestly? My standards for normal collapsed around chapter six.”

One of the guards frowned slightly.

Viktor ignored him.

“He’s different now.”

Evie kept her expression neutral.

“Who.”

“Cassian.”

The streetlights reflected dim gold across rainwater pooled near the curb.

Viktor looked toward the second coffee cup again.

“He leaves missions unfinished.” His attention returned to her. “He hesitates.”

Evie said nothing.

Viktor stepped closer.

Not threatening.

Worse.

Relaxed.

“I wanted to see what finally put a leash on him.”

The sentence landed hard enough to change the air between them.

Evie stared at him for a second.

Then laughed softly in disbelief.

“Oh, you really thought that sounded cool before saying it.”

One of the guards smiled despite himself.

Viktor’s expression didn’t change.

“You matter to him.”

“Wow. Weird thing to say while committing a felony.”

“He was easier to predict before you.”

Rainwater slid down the side mirror beside Evie’s arm.

She adjusted her grip on the coffee cups slowly.

“You kidnapped me to complain about emotional availability?”

“Briefly.”

That answer honestly made everything worse.

Viktor nodded once toward the SUV.

“Get in.”

Evie looked down at the coffee.

Then back at him.

“You know what actually annoys me most here?”

Viktor waited.

“These were expensive.”

One of the guards opened the SUV door.

Evie climbed inside before somebody decided to escalate things creatively.

Kane called Cassian twice before he answered.

The third ring cut off abruptly.

“What.”

Kane stopped pacing beside the kitchen counter.

Rain hammered against the safehouse windows hard enough to blur the city lights outside.

“Okay,” he said carefully, “before this becomes emotionally catastrophic—”

“Where’s Evie.”

Cassian’s voice came through flat and controlled enough that Kane lowered his own without meaning to.

Kane looked down at the abandoned phone sitting beside the sink.

“She left this at the garage.”

Silence.

Not long.

Just long enough for Kane to hear movement on the other end of the line.

Drawer opening.

Metal shifting.

Keys.

“We got reports Viktor’s crew was spotted near the warehouse district twenty minutes ago,” Kane continued.

Another silence.

Then:

“Send me the location.”

The line disconnected immediately after.

Kane stared at the phone.

Dominic walked into the kitchen holding a sandwich.

“…How bad?”

Kane looked toward the rain-dark windows.

“The boss hung up before threatening anybody.” He rubbed one hand over his face. “Which somehow feels worse.”

The SUV stopped beneath an abandoned overpass near the river.

Rainwater poured through broken concrete overhead in uneven streams while trucks groaned faintly somewhere along the freeway above them.

Evie sat in the backseat holding cold coffee between both hands.

Nobody tied her up.

Nobody pointed guns at her anymore either.

That part felt deliberate.

Viktor watched her from the opposite seat.

“You’re quieter now.”

“I’m processing how annoying this story’s gonna sound later.”

“You think he’ll laugh?”

Evie looked out the rain-streaked window briefly.

Then back at him.

“I think he’s probably loading weapons right now.”

One of the guards near the front seat shifted slightly at that.

Viktor noticed.

Didn’t react.

“He used to be disciplined,” Viktor said. “Now he breaks things he doesn’t need to break.”

Evie rolled the coffee cup slowly between her palms.

“You sound weirdly divorced.”

Rain rattled against the roof overhead.

Viktor leaned back slightly.

“People like Cassian survive by removing weaknesses.” His eyes settled on her again. “You stayed.”

The words sat unpleasantly in the SUV.

Evie looked down at the untouched coffee lid.

Then quietly:

“Maybe he didn’t ask me to leave.”

Viktor’s phone buzzed.

He checked the screen once.

Something shifted slightly near the corner of his mouth afterward.

Interest now.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“He came faster than expected,” he said.

Outside, headlights appeared through the rain beneath the overpass entrance.

Evie looked toward them automatically.

Her pulse jumped once before she could stop it.

Viktor noticed that too.