Chapter 40
When Ruin Looks Like Love
The world outside the cabin felt sharper. The trees loomed taller, their branches like watchful sentinels swaying in the wind. The birdsong that once seemed peaceful now echoed like a warning. As Mason and Marissa drove down the winding forest road, neither spoke. There was too much to say and not enough time to say it.
Mason's grip on the wheel was tight. His jaw set. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror every few seconds. Marissa sat beside him, her backpack clutched to her chest like a shield. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but electric charged with unspoken fear, determination, and the fragile thread of hope they were trying to hold onto.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked.
Mason didn't take his eyes off the road. "To someone I trust. Someone who knows Victor's world better than anyone else."
Marissa frowned. "I thought you left that world behind."
"I did. But I wasn't the only one who tried to walk away. Some of us ran harder than others."
The town they drove into hours later was nothing like the peaceful village near their cabin. It was industrial, dusted in gray, with crooked alleyways and rusted signs. The buildings stood close together, casting long shadows across cracked pavement. It smelled of oil, old smoke, and secrets.
Mason pulled up in front of a narrow building with shuttered windows and peeling paint. There was no name on the door, just a faded symbol carved into the wood.
"This is it," he said.
"Who lives here?" Marissa asked, stepping out.
"A woman named Lyra. She used to run intelligence for Victor's network. Got out after a betrayal nearly cost her her life."
Marissa raised an eyebrow. "And you trust her?"
"With my life," Mason said without hesitation.
They walked to the door. Mason knocked three times, waited, then knocked twice more.
A small camera above the door buzzed to life. A mechanical voice crackled through a speaker. "State your name and reason."
"It's Mason Creed. I need Lyra's help."
There was a pause. Then, the door clicked open.
Inside, the air was cool and heavy with the scent of incense. The hallway was narrow, lined with dusty bookshelves and strange symbols etched into the walls. At the far end, a woman stepped into the light.
She was tall, with platinum-blonde hair and sharp green eyes. A long scar traced the line of her collarbone. She wore a leather coat and gloves, even indoors.
"Creed," she said, her voice low and musical. "Didn't think I'd see you again. And with company, no less."
Mason gave a small nod. "This is Marissa."
Lyra's eyes flicked to her, unreadable. "Interesting. Come in."
They followed her into a dimly lit sitting room filled with maps, weapons, and monitors. It looked less like a home and more like a war room.
"So," Lyra said, settling into a high-backed chair. "Tell me why Victor's got you spooked."
Mason didn't hesitate. He told her everything from the knock on the cabin door to Victor's threat.
When he finished, Lyra leaned back, arms crossed.
"He's playing a dangerous game," she murmured. "Pulling you out means he's either desperate or this job is bigger than he's letting on."
"What does he want me to do?" Mason asked.
She shook her head. "I don't know. But I can find out. I still have contacts. People who owe me."
Marissa stepped forward. "And in the meantime?"
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "You lie low. And you let me do what I do best."
Mason nodded slowly. "We'll need a place to stay."
Lyra stood and walked to a panel in the wall. She pressed a code, and a hidden door slid open to reveal a staircase.
"Upstairs. Third floor. No windows. Soundproof. You'll be safe there."
Mason glanced at Marissa. She nodded.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Lyra paused before turning away. "You're not the only one with something to lose, Creed. Don't let this mistake cost her everything."
The room Lyra provided was small but secure. The walls were lined with reinforced panels. A thick steel door bolted from the inside. There was a bed, a tiny kitchen, and a desk with an encrypted laptop.
Mason and Marissa unpacked in silence.
Eventually, Marissa sank onto the bed and looked at him.
"What happens if this doesn't end cleanly?" she asked.
Mason sat beside her. "Then we find a way to survive."
She turned toward him, eyes searching. "I'm scared, Mason."
He reached for her hand. "Me too. But I'm more afraid of losing you than facing him."
She smiled faintly. "You always say the perfect thing at the worst moments."
He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. "Only because you make me believe there's still something worth saving."
They stayed like that pressed together, quietly breathing until exhaustion stole them both.
The next morning, Lyra called them downstairs.
She was already dressed, hair tied back, eyes sharp.
"I have news," she said, gesturing them into the war room. "Victor's planning a heist. A high-level data extraction from a government satellite relay in Prague."
Marissa blinked. "That sounds... insane."
"It is," Lyra agreed. "But the payoff is enormous. He's not in this for money though. This is personal. He wants leverage blackmail material on half a dozen powerful people."
Mason rubbed his temples. "And he wants me to lead it."
Lyra nodded. "Because you're the only one who could pull it off cleanly. He doesn't have a crew skilled enough anymore."
"And if I refuse?" Mason asked.
Lyra's gaze darkened. "Then he burns everything around you. Starting with Marissa."
Marissa stiffened.
Mason clenched his fists. "There's no winning."
"There might be," Lyra said slowly. "What if you give him what he wants but not in the way he expects?"
He looked up. "Go on."
"We build a false mission. A shadow job. You assemble a team, but secretly feed me details. I use my contacts to intercept the real intel and leak it before Victor gets it."
Marissa's eyes widened. "You want to trick him?"
Lyra smirked. "I want to outplay him. If we do it right, he takes the fall. And you both walk away for good."
Mason stared at her. "That's a dangerous bet."
She shrugged. "All good bets are."
He turned to Marissa. "What do you think?"
Marissa didn't hesitate. "Let's do it."
For the first time in days, Mason allowed himself to breathe.
The next few days were a blur of planning. Mason reached out to old allies people he could trust. Lyra provided secure lines, safehouses, and forged documents. Marissa helped organize logistics, her mind sharp and focused. She surprised even Lyra with her strategic thinking.
"She's got fire," Lyra said one night as the two women pored over maps.
"She's stronger than she knows," Mason replied, watching her from across the room.
As the plan came together, tension mounted. Victor would be watching. One misstep could cost them everything.
But they were ready.
Mason had spent years running from his past. Now, he would use it one last time to protect the future he was building with the woman he loved.
And as he looked at Marissa her eyes fierce, her hands steady he knew they would survive.
Together.