Page 281 of Ruins
“Fuck,” Angelo breathes suddenly. “Romeo’s down.”
“Shit.”
“Damn it! The cameras are down!”
No.
My heart plummets. That means—they cut the surveillance.
“It’s fine.” Angelo’s voice is tight, trying to keep me steady. “We’re practically there. We’ll get her, Santo.”
No.
Ice grips my spine. My fingers strangle the steering wheel.
“Athena is a prototype,” I say, my voice hollow. “I had to connect it to the lock system. If they cut off Athena—”
The realization slams into me like a wrecking ball.
“Then anything biometric will override.”
“So what?” Angelo demands. “The elevator freezes? Goes dark? She’ll be safe.”
No.
My stomach twists. My breath is shallow.
“The elevator will descend to the basement.”
I barely recognize my own voice—numb, disbelieving. My foot slams harder on the gas pedal.
Hoping.
Praying.
“The only way to shut down Athena is from the control panel.” My voice is hoarse. “Inthe basement.”
Vasilisa is descending right to them. She’s a sitting duck.
Chapter 57
Vasilisa
Thedeafeningboomofgunshots echoes through my home, each one sending a jolt of fear and anguish through me. The sound of glass shattering pierces my heart, as I imagine the destruction. Romeo is out there, outnumbered by a relentless onslaught of attackers. My only relief is that the staff is gone, sent away by Santo to protect them from possible harm. My hands tremble as I open the box Angelo gave me, revealing a loaded gun - a violation of our safety rules, but now my only lifeline. A loud bang shakes the room and the elevator lights flicker as it begins to move.
My heart races with hope - Santo must be here to save us. But then a cold chill seeps into my bones as doubt creeps in - what if it’s not him? I steel myself and stand up straight, gripping the gun tightly as memories of every training session with Angelo flood my mind.I got this.
I press back against the shuddering wall of the elevator, my breath shallow. The floor beneath me quakes, a constant reminder that every tick downward is pushing me closer— closer to whatever waits for me below. My hands, slick with sweat, tighten around the gun. It had been a mere tool before—just a weight in my grip during training, under Angelo’s watchful eye.
Now, it feels alien.
Cold.
Unwelcome.
But it’s my only chance.
I squeeze my eyes shut, going over the instructions Angelo drilled into me.
