Page 106 of Playing with Fire

Pain exploded through my shoulder, but the wall gave way more easily than expected, crumbling inward in a shower of dust and debris. I stumbled through the opening, catching myself against a desk to avoid falling.

The office beyond was surprisingly intact, protected from the worst of the fire by its reinforced walls and door. The air here was marginally clearer, though smoke still curled along the ceiling in lazy tendrils. Emergency lighting cast everything in a sickly yellow glow.

And there, strapped to a chair in the center of the room, was Algerone Caisse-Etremont.

My biological father looked nothing like the composed, powerful figure who had dominated boardrooms and battlefields for decades. His expensive suit was torn and bloodied, his silver-streaked hair matted with sweat and grime. Monitors and IV lines connected him to medical equipment that beeped with irregular rhythms. His skin held an unhealthy pallor, eyes sunken in their sockets from pain and exhaustion.

But his eyes were sharp with awareness as they fixed on me. "I told you not to come back for me."

Even now, restrained and injured, he projected authority. The tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed without question. I might have laughed if the situation wasn't so dire.

"Plans changed," I replied tersely, moving to examine his restraints. Heavy-duty zip ties secured his wrists and ankles to the chair, which itself was bolted to the floor. "We need to get you out of here. The building is coming down."

"So I gathered." His gaze shifted to the doorway, where flames had begun to lick at the frame. The fire was advancing faster than I'd anticipated, eating through the building's structure. "But I'm afraid that's going to be more challenging than you might expect."

I followed his line of sight, a curse catching in my throat as I realized our predicament. The flames were already consuming the corridor I'd used to enter, cutting off our primary escape route.

I examined the room's perimeter, looking for any weakness, any potential escape route. The walls were reinforced concrete, the window too small for even Leo to squeeze through, let alone Algerone or myself. The only exit was the way I'd come in, and that path was rapidly becoming impassable.

My jaw tightened as I moved to examine the restraints more carefully. The chair wasn't just a place to secure him; it was also supporting him, keeping him upright when his injured body couldn't.

"You should go," Algerone said, the words so unexpected I turned to stare at him. His expression remained neutral, but something shifted in his eyes. "There's no sense in both of us dying here. Felix has his symbolism either way."

"Shut up," I muttered, examining the restraints more carefully. There had to be a solution, some angle I hadn't considered yet.

"Xavier." His voice took on that commanding tone I'd always resented. "This isn't a negotiation. The building is falling apart. You have an opportunity to escape, and you should take it."

I ignored him, methodically checking the chair's mounting points, looking for weaknesses. The bolts securing it to the floor were heavy-duty, industrial strength, but the concrete around them had already begun to crack from the building's ongoing deterioration.

"You need to go," Algerone insisted again, urgency creeping into his tone. "Now, Xavier. This isn't worth your life."

"That's not your decision to make."

His eyes widened slightly at having his words thrown back at him. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed—a short, rough sound devoid of humor but carrying genuine appreciation. "You're more like me than either of us wants to admit."

I didn't answer, returning my focus to the chair. There had to be a way to get him free. I just had to find it.Think, Xavier. Think!

Footsteps sounded from the corridor outside. Uneven, stumbling, but purposeful. I reached for my gun just as Felix appeared in the opening I'd created in the wall, blood still seeping from his shoulder wound, eyes wild with a mixture of pain and manic determination.

He looked like a dying man—face gray with blood loss, body swaying with the effort of remaining upright. His breathing came in shallow, labored gasps, but his eyes burned with feverish intensity.

"Touching," he said, gesturing with his gun toward the flames advancing behind him. The weapon trembled visibly in his grip, heavy with the effort his weakened body could barely sustain. "The prodigal son risking everything for the father who abandoned him. It's almost poetic."

"It's over, Felix," I said, keeping my voice level. "The building's coming down. The fire is consuming everything. You've made your point."

"My point?" Felix laughed, the sound high and broken, ending in a wet cough that spattered blood across his lips. "My point was supposed to be watching you burn alive! Watching you suffer like my father suffered!" He gestured wildly with the gun, his control visibly slipping, movements growing increasingly erratic. "But you just won't die like you're supposed to! You just keep fighting, keep surviving!"

"That's what Laskins do," I replied, shifting my stance to keep myself between him and Algerone. "We survive."

The ceiling groaned ominously above us, dust and small debris raining down as support beams warped in the intense heat. The fire had nearly encircled the room now, hungrily consuming everything in its path. Felix's eyes kept losing focus, his concentration slipping as blood loss took its inevitable toll.

"You'll never get him out in time," he slurred, blinking hard to clear his vision. "Even if you shoot me, even if you somehow get him free of those restraints, you'll never make it past the fire. The building will collapse before you reach any exit." His legs buckled, forcing him to brace against the doorframe to remain standing.

He was right. The cold, analytical part of my mind had already run the calculations. None of them ended with both Algerone and me walking out alive.

"You've thought of everything," I acknowledged, taking a careful step forward. "Planned for every contingency. Calculated every angle. Except one."

Felix's eyes narrowed, suspicion replacing some of the manic satisfaction. "What's that?"

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