Ronan didn't sleep.
By dawn, the Ashcroft mansion was already under lockdown. Security had doubled. Internal access was restricted. No one moved without clearance.
Someone had leaked the operation.
And Ronan was going to find out who.
Mireya stood in the war room, arms folded tightly as screens displayed maps, intercepted signals, and failed extraction routes.
"She wasn't there?" she asked quietly.
Ronan didn't look at her.
"No," he said. "They moved her before we arrived."
"Because they knew you were coming."
Silence.
That was answer enough.
Mireya's chest tightened. "There's a leak inside this house."
"I'm aware."
His tone was controlled, but the tension in his jaw told a different story.
"Then stop shutting me out," she pressed. "You said I'm part of this. Start acting like it."
That got his attention.
His gaze snapped to hers.
"You want in?" he asked coldly. "Then understand this, Mireya. The moment you step fully into this war, there is no stepping back."
"I already crossed that line."
A beat.
Ronan studied her... then nodded once.
"Fine," he said. "Then we start with suspects."
Three names appeared on the screen.
Senior staff. Trusted. Cleared.
And now, questionable.
Mireya stepped closer.
"The maid," she said immediately. "West corridor. She came out of your study before the breach."
Ronan's eyes narrowed.
"Name?"
"Elena."
Adrian, standing near the console, typed quickly.
"Background check is clean," he said. "Three years employment. No flags."
"Then dig deeper," Ronan said. "People don't just wake up and betray me."
Across the city...
Arabella sat perfectly still as Mardison Varkos circled her again.
"You're stronger than we expected," Mardison said.
Arabella said nothing.
"Most people break by now."
"I'm not most people."
Mardison smiled faintly.
"No," she agreed. "You're a distraction."
Arabella's pulse stuttered.
"For Mireya," Mardison continued. "And for Ronan."
Ice slid down Arabella's spine.
"What do you want from them?" she asked.
Mardison leaned closer.
"Control," she said simply.
Back at the mansion...
Elena was brought in within the hour.
She looked terrified.
"I didn't do anything," she said quickly, eyes darting between Ronan and Mireya.
Ronan didn't sit.
Didn't blink.
"You accessed my study," he said.
"No-I just cleaned-"
"You logged into my system."
"I don't even know how..."
Ronan stepped closer.
And the room went cold.
"Lying," he said quietly, "is a mistake you won't survive twice."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I swear, someone told me to go in there," she cried. "I didn't touch anything!"
"Who?"
She hesitated.
That was all it took.
Adrian moved instantly, pulling a tablet forward, triggering a live feed.
Security footage.
The hallway.
Elena... entering the study.
And then...
A second figure.
Mireya leaned closer.
Her breath caught.
"That's not staff," she whispered.
The man moved with confidence. No hesitation. No fear of being seen.
Ronan's expression darkened.
"He's internal," he said.
"Security?" Adrian asked.
"No," Ronan replied.
His voice dropped.
"Someone higher."
The footage cut.
Wiped.
Deliberately.
Mireya stepped back slowly.
"This isn't random," she said. "They're inside your system, your staff, your operations..."
"They're inside my house," Ronan finished.
Later that night...
Mireya stood alone in the east wing balcony, the city stretching endlessly below.
Her mind replayed everything.
The leak.
The failed rescue.
The unknown man.
Lucas.
A soft click sounded behind her.
She didn't turn.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to come find me."
Andy Montclair stepped into the dim light.
"You shouldn't be here," she said.
"And yet," he replied calmly, "here I am."
Her pulse quickened.
"How did you get past security?"
Andy smiled faintly.
"You're asking the wrong question."
Silence stretched between them.
Mireya turned slowly.
"What do you want?"
His gaze sharpened.
"To help you."
She almost laughed.
"You're connected to this," she said. "I saw your reaction at the gala."
"Of course I'm connected," he said simply.
Her stomach dropped.
"And you're just admitting that?"
"I'm admitting," he said, stepping closer, "that you're running out of time."
Mireya held her ground.
"Where is my sister?"
Andy's expression shifted slightly.
Not guilt.
Not fear.
Something more complicated.
"Alive," he said.
Relief hit her so hard it almost hurt.
"But not for long," he added.
The words sliced through her.
"Then tell me where she is."
"I can't."
"Won't," she corrected.
A pause.
Then...
"I can trade," he said.
Mireya's chest tightened.
"For what?"
Andy's gaze locked onto hers.
"You."
The world stilled.
"What?"
"You walk away from Ronan," he said calmly. "From the Ashcroft name. From this war."
Her heart pounded violently.
"And in return?"
"I give you Arabella."
Silence shattered inside her.
"You're insane," she whispered.
"Am I?" he asked softly. "Or am I the only one offering you a way out?"
Her mind raced.
Ronan.
The war.
The lies.
Lucas.
Arabella.
"You're asking me to abandon everything," she said.
"I'm asking you to survive," Andy replied.
Behind her...
A shadow moved.
Unseen.
Listening.
And for the first time since this war began...
Mireya was no longer just caught between two men.
She was about to choose a side.
