Page 110 of Reckless: Corruption

“Always. Very consistent. Much dedication.”

An explosion above us sends dust raining from the ceiling. “Time to go,” I urge.

“Almost done. Very precise equipment. Much delicate components.”

I check my watch—we’ve already exceeded our five-minute window.

Another explosion, closer this time.

“Mona, now!”

She finally nods, securing the reinforced case. “Exit route through maintenance tunnel. Very discreet. Much escape potential.”

We move quickly through narrow corridors, the sounds of combat echoing somewhere above us. The extraction point is close—just through the utility room and out to the garage tunnels. We might actually make it.

“Stop,” Mona whispers suddenly, freezing in place.

I follow her gaze to the security camera in the corner—its indicator light blinking rapidly in an irregular pattern.

“Pattern disruption. Very concerning. Much unexpected surveillance.”

“Meaning?”

“Someone watching. Not pack. Not security system.”

My blood runs cold. “How close is the alternate exit?”

“Two corridors. Very accessible. Much escape potential.” She points to a maintenance shaft to our right. “Theo’s emergency exit. Leads to eastern perimeter.”

“Lead the way.”

We change direction, moving through maintenance areas toward a different exit. My heart hammers against my ribs—the pack is waiting at the original extraction point. Every step away from them feels wrong, like tearing out stitches before the wound has healed.

“Almost there,” Mona whispers as we approach a heavy metal door. “Exit leads to eastern perimeter. Forest cover approximately twelve meters from exit point.”

She keys in a code, the door unlocking with a mechanical thunk.

That’s when I hear it—footsteps behind us, measured and purposeful.

“How predictable,” a familiar voice says. “Always running, little sisters.”

We turn slowly to find Alexander blocking our retreat, a tactical team spread behind him.

“Hello, Xander,” Mona greets, using the childhood name he hates. “Still doing daddy’s dirty work?”

His jaw tightens—the first tell Mona identified in her candy lessons. “And you’re still playing the chaotic genius. How tiresome.” His eyes flick to me, something like genuine curiosity there. “I never understood why father was so interested in you, but now I’m beginning to see it. Same stubborn streak. Same inability to recognize when you’re outmatched.”

“Or maybe,” I counter, “we just recognize that some things are worth fighting for. When’s the last time you fought for anything besides daddy’s approval?”

The flash of raw emotion that crosses his face tells me I’ve hit a nerve deeper than I intended.

Mona shifts slightly, angling her body between Alexander and the case she carries. A calculated move that doesn’t escape his notice.

“What are you protecting, Mona?” His eyes narrow. “More sabotage?”

“Obviously. Very consistent. Much dedication.”

I’m mapping escape routes, calculating odds, while they continue their sibling standoff. The ventilation shaft to our left might be wide enough. The service elevator behind Alexander’s team would require fighting through them first.

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