Page 197 of Fractured Allegiance
I cross the room, hand instinctively moving to the pistol tucked at my back. Check the peephole.
A man stands in the hallway. Older than I expected.
Wearing a dark coat, gray threading through his hair, sharp eyes that look directly at the lens like he knows I'm watching.
Elias.
I open the door.
He doesn't wait for an invitation. Just steps inside, scanning the apartment in one sweep—corners, windows, exits—before his gaze lands back on me.
"Ward."
"Elias."
He moves past me, shrugging off his coat and draping it over the back of the chair by the window. Then he sits, pulls a pistol from his waistband, and sets it on the table beside him like punctuation.
Not a threat. Just a statement.
I close the door. Lock it.
"You move fast," I say.
"You move recklessly," he answers.
We hold each other's eyes. No pretence. This isn't an alliance. It's two predators deciding if they can stomach hunting the same prey.
The silence between us bristles. Neither of us will say it, but the truth is there: Lydia's fate ties us together, even if trust doesn't.
Elias leans forward, forearms braced on his knees. "You've got one chance. You fuck this up, and I don't care what badge you hide behind. You're finished."
I nod once. Because promises mean nothing here. Actions do.
He watches me for a long moment, then asks the question I knew was coming. "Last night. When you were standingoutside that door. Which mattered more—her freedom, or your cover?"
The silence cracks like lightning between us.
I take a breath. Keep it steady. "I've done things to keep this cover that I can't come back from. But none of it matters if she doesn't make it out alive." I meet his eyes. "You want me to admit I failed her last night by not trying to help her? Fine. I did. But I'm not failing her again."
Elias studies me, his gaze dark and unblinking. Weighing every word I just said.
Then he nods. Slow. Deliberate.
"Good," he says. "Because if you do fail her again, it won't be Drazen who puts you in the ground. It'll be me."
The air between us shifts. Not lighter. Not friendlier. But aligned.
Reluctantly aligned.
He leans back in the chair. "Alright. Then we plan."
I drag a hand over my face, grounding myself. “Alright. Let’s plan. Drazen’s got her held in a fancy penthouse, with a heavy guard rotation, on top of Dom checking in every other hour just to remind her whose leash she’s on. We can’t storm it. Not with guns blazing. We need distraction. Something that splits Dom’s loyalty from Drazen’s, even if just for ten minutes.”
Elias leans forward, listening. “You think they’ll split?”
“Not willingly. But if I can make Drazen paranoid enough to believe Dom’s keeping something from him…” I let the thought hang.
Elias tilts his head, weighing it. “That’s a knife you’d better wield carefully. Dom’s a snake, but Drazen doesn’t toleratewhispers without blood to prove them. One wrong word, and he’ll put it on her instead of Dom.”
