Blossom's POV
The salt in the air bit harder than usual.
Dragged by two men whose faces were blank as stone, I stumbled barefoot across the rocky edge of a moonlit dock. The night was quiet-but it wasn't peace I felt. It was the kind of silence that came before something unspeakable. My arms throbbed from where they'd been yanked. I was still wearing the same torn dress from before, blood crusted along my shoulder. Everything ached, but it wasn't the pain that made my breath come short. It was the sea. Wide. Endless. Hungry.
They dragged me to the edge of a loading platform, and that's when I saw it.
A steel shipping container. Unassuming, massive, and open like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole.
I froze.
"What the hell is this?!" My voice cracked like it had never been used. One of the guards shoved me forward, and I caught myself against the cold metal. Inside was dark. Hollow. A steel coffin.
And then I heard the footsteps.
Rion.
His suit was spotless. Black over black, sea breeze ruffling his hair like a lover's hand. But the eyes? No warmth left in them. Just fury-cold, clear, and terrifying.
He stopped beside the box.
"You're awake. Good. I was hoping we'd get to say goodbye."
"What are you doing, Rion?" I demanded, voice shaking.
He looked at me for a moment like I wasn't quite real. Then he gave me a smile that didn't touch his eyes.
"You made your choice. You chose him." He gestured vaguely at the ocean. "So now you can be with him. Forever."
"You're insane," I snapped, struggling against the grip holding me. "You can't be serious."
His smile grew tighter. "Do you remember the little island Dad took us to as kids? The one you said looked like it floated between this world and the next? I always wondered what it would feel like to sink. To disappear so completely no one could find you."
My throat tightened. "Rion-don't do this."
He took a step closer, and the guards let me go. I backed into the container instinctively, desperate to keep eyes on him.
"You could've said yes. You could've been mine. I gave you chances-every time. But you picked the monster who tore us apart."
"He didn't tear anything apart," I spat. "You did. You and your psychotic sister."
His face twitched. For a moment, just a flicker, I saw the boy I used to know. The one who gave me his last cookie in grade school. The one who wrote me stupid poems on notebook paper.
Then he raised a hand. A signal.
The guards slammed the container shut. Darkness.
I screamed and threw myself against the door. "Rion! Don't you dare! You can't do this!"
Through the crack, I heard him speak, low and final:
"If I can't have you, he can drown with your memory."
Metal groaned. The container shifted-lifted. The floor beneath me tilted.
They were raising it. Some kind of crane. I stumbled, hitting the wall hard as the box tilted upward.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I clawed at the door, screamed until my voice tore. Kicked, punched. Nothing but echoes and steel.
The container paused in the air.
Dangling.
Waiting.
I dropped to my knees, breath ragged, hair sticking to my face. My fists stung. My throat burned. I'd never felt so helpless. So utterly buried alive.
And then I whispered-maybe to myself, maybe to him.
"Vincent, please... hurry."
Outside, waves crashed. And time ticked down to my last breath.
---
Vincent's POV:
The warehouse loomed in the distance, silent and hulking against the silver blur of moonlight. I crouched low behind the skeletal frame of an abandoned rig, the wind clawing at my coat, the weight of my pistol familiar against my ribs. A low buzz came through my comm.
"Sector 4, no movement."
Adriel. Efficient. Reliable. He never missed.
My hand flexed around the grip of my gun. The warehouse was too quiet. Not a single dog, not a single soul pacing with a flashlight. Rion was either cocky or desperate. Probably both.
I slipped through the perimeter fence, bypassing the trigger line with practiced ease. My men were filtering in on all sides, shadows among shadows. I didn't care about the drugs or the guns he kept here. That was all noise. This place was a diversion.
But a necessary one.
I swept the lower levels clean in under six minutes. No Blossom. No signs of a hostage setup. Just crates of mislabeled cargo and the overwhelming stink of rusted ambition. Then I found it-a hastily wiped-down table, and the faint drag of chains on the floor.
She had been here.
I signaled Adriel. "Warehouse is cold. Check the east route. The docks."
He responded instantly. "Copy."
Rion wouldn't keep her here. Not somewhere this vulnerable. He was making a statement.
I bolted out, cutting through alleyways toward the eastern coast. The sea was a dark, roaring maw tonight, the air thicker with salt and the reek of oil. As we crested the edge of the road, the dock lights flared to life in the distance. Floodlights. Movement.
There he was.
Rion stood like a phantom on the platform, hands clasped behind him, and just behind him-a container box suspended midair by an industrial crane, swaying gently over the black water.
My breath slowed. I stepped forward.
He turned.
"About time, Marino," he called out, voice smug and maddeningly calm. "I was wondering how long it would take you to sniff your little obsession down."
I didn't rise to it. My eyes were on the container.
"Where is she."
Rion spread his hands, mock-innocent. "In there. Safe. For now."
I lifted my gun.
He chuckled. "Shoot me, and the lever drops. She sinks."
My jaw clenched.
"You want her? Fine. Let's trade. One life for another."
"What do you want?"
"The formula. The one you've kept buried in Valkyr Arms. The prototype weapon. The one that doesn't miss."
My blood ran cold. That weapon wasn't just rare. It was a myth wrapped in blood and steel. Smart-guided micro-caliber rounds. Bio-lock targeting. Untraceable. Unstoppable.
And it was mine.
"Hand me that," Rion said, stepping closer to the lever, "and I'll make sure your little De doesn't drown in a tin coffin."
I didn't speak.
But I was already calculating.
Every second mattered now.
Vincent's eyes narrowed. "If you touch that lever, I'll put you in a box myself."
Rion chuckled darkly. "Wrong answer."
He slammed the lever down.
The metallic groan of the crane echoed like thunder. The container dropped several feet, jerking against its cables before catching again-precariously hanging by a final restraint.
Vincent moved instantly. The first shot from his rifle cracked through the air, grazing Rion's arm and sending him ducking behind a steel pillar. Gunfire erupted on both ends, the storm masking the sound only slightly.
Vincent advanced fast and low, bullets sparking off the surrounding crates and metal structures. His leg screamed from a grazing hit, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.
Rion popped out from cover, unloading a burst toward Vincent. One shot found its mark-Vincent stumbled as pain ripped through his thigh, blood spreading quickly down the dark fabric.
Gritting his teeth, Vincent ducked into cover behind a shipping container. He yanked a fresh mag from his vest and slammed it into the chamber. Rain poured into his wound, salt and sting making the edge sharper.
Rion flanked left, trying to pin him. Vincent's return fire forced him back, but they were running low. Both of them. He could feel it.
One... two... click.
Empty.
Silence split through the chaos. The kind of silence that only meant one thing-they were out.
Rion emerged first, his gun tossed to the side. Vincent did the same. And then they collided.
Flesh on flesh. Rage on rage.
Vincent's punch landed square across Rion's jaw, sending him staggering. Rion countered with a brutal elbow to Vincent's injured leg, nearly buckling him. The pain was white-hot, but Vincent refused to fall.
They traded blow for blow, fists splitting skin, knuckles cracking. Rion tackled Vincent against a container wall, hand locked around his throat.
"You're going to die for her?" Rion growled, spitting blood.
Vincent rammed his knee into Rion's ribs, breaking the hold. "No," he rasped. "I'm going to live-so she can."
Rion lunged again, but Vincent caught his arm, twisted it hard, and slammed him into the ground. He straddled him, raining down blows.
"You think hurting her makes you powerful?" Vincent growled, landing a blow to Rion's jaw that sent blood flying. "All you've proven is that you're a coward."
Rion tackled him to the ground, snarling, "You took her from me!"
Vincent flipped him with a grunt, slamming him into the deck, punching until Rion's resistance weakened. "You lost her the moment you made her bleed."
A final punch. Rion went still.
Vincent didn't waste a second. Limping, blood trailing behind him, he charged toward the edge of the dock where the crane had dropped the container.
It was sinking.
Without hesitation, he dove in.
The cold punched the breath from his lungs, salt stinging the open wound on his leg. Darkness swallowed him, but his arms cut through the water with purpose. He dove deeper, eyes searching, muscles screaming.
And then-metal.