Damien Sinclair stood in his penthouse office, the city of New York sprawled beneath him like a chessboard. Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the lights of the empire he owned.
In his hand, he held the cheap pink hair clip.
"Sir," Marcus, his head of security, stepped forward cautiously. "The lab is ready. They can run a rapid DNA sequence on the hair follicle. We will have results in two hours."
Damien stared at the brown root of the hair. His thumb brushed over it.
Two hours.
Two hours to confirm if the woman who had haunted his dreams for five years was truly alive. Two hours to know if the child with the golden eyes was his own flesh and blood.
"Do it," Damien said, his voice low. "But keep it off the books. I don't want the Council knowing about this."
"And the woman? Vera?"
Damien's eyes flashed with a cold, predatory amusement. "She thinks she can run. Let her try."
He walked to his desk and tapped a command into his secure terminal.
"Initiate Protocol Grey."
It wasn't a total lockdown—that would cause panic. It was a **silent shadow**. Every credit card transaction, every facial recognition camera, every subway pass scan linked to the name "Vera" would trigger a silent alarm on Damien's phone.
"She is in a cage," Damien whispered, watching a red dot blink on his screen. "She just doesn't know the bars are already up."
---
Meanwhile, in the backseat of a speeding taxi.
Aria wasn't panicking. Panic was a luxury she couldn't afford. She was thinking.
She looked down at her phone. She had tried to book a flight, but the app had crashed. She tried to transfer money, but the bank server was "under maintenance."
"He knows," Aria said softly to herself. "He's cutting off my legs."
"Mom?" Leo tugged at her sleeve. The four-year-old hacker was frowning at his tablet. "Someone is pinging my location. It's a brute-force trace. They are trying to find this tablet."
Aria's eyes widened. "Can you stop them?"
"I can bounce the signal," Leo said, his fingers flying across the screen. "But only for a little while. Mom, who is this guy? His security... it's Alpha-level."
Aria looked at her son. He looked so much like Damien in that moment—the focused frown, the grey eyes, the arrogance.
"He is... a very bad man, Leo. And we need to disappear. Now."
"Driver!" Aria leaned forward. "Pull over here. By the subway station."
"But lady, you said the airport—"
"Pull over!"
The taxi screeched to a halt. Aria threw a wad of cash at the driver—thank god she always kept an emergency stash of physical cash—and hustled the twins out into the rain.
They stood on the busy sidewalk of Queens.
"Mommy, my shoes are wet," Mia complained, holding her headless teddy bear.
Aria knelt down. She needed to change the game. Damien was tracking "Vera"—the glamorous designer. He was tracking credit cards and digital signals.
"Leo," Aria said, gripping his shoulders. "Turn off the tablet. Remove the battery if you can. We are going analog."
"Analog?" Leo looked horrified. "Like... offline?"
"Completely offline. We are not 'Vera' and her kids anymore." Aria pulled off her expensive trench coat and threw it into a nearby trash can. She ruffled her sleek black bob, messing it up. She took off Mia's beret.
"We need to look like we belong here," Aria said. She scanned the street. She saw a thrift store.
"Come on."
Ten minutes later, they emerged.
Gone was the high-end French designer. In her place was a tired-looking woman in a baggy grey hoodie and cheap jeans. Leo wore a baseball cap pulled low, and Mia was bundled in a puffy pink jacket that was two sizes too big.
They didn't look like targets for the King of Wall Street. They looked like nobody.
"Where are we going?" Leo whispered, clutching his powered-down tablet like a lifeline.
Aria looked at the subway entrance. She knew Damien would be watching the airports and the train stations. He would expect her to run *out* of the city.
So, she would do the one thing he wouldn't expect.
She would go deeper *in*.
"We aren't leaving, Leo," Aria said, her voice trembling slightly. "We're going to hide in the belly of the beast. We're going to Brooklyn. To the old safe house."
It was a risky move. The safe house was a tiny, run-down apartment she had bought under a fake name years ago, before she met Damien. He didn't know it existed.
"But Mom," Mia tugged her hand. "The Giant Man... he had candy."
Aria's heart squeezed. "Mia, listen to me. That man is dangerous."
"He smelled nice," Mia insisted stubbornly. "He smelled like... home."
Aria froze. The bond. It was already forming.
She grabbed Mia's hand a little too tightly. "He is not home, Mia. He is the reason we have to run. Never forget that."
Just then, a police cruiser rolled slowly past them.
Aria held her breath, pulling the kids into the shadows of a bodega awning. The cop car paused. The officer inside scanned the crowd.
Aria's heart hammered against her ribs. *Did he have their description? Was the whole city already hunting them?*
The radio in the police car crackled. The officer looked right at Aria... and then looked past her, at a drunk man stumbling on the corner. The car drove on.
Aria let out a shaky breath.
"Come on," she whispered, herizing them toward the subway stairs. "Underground. Now."
As they descended into the dark, smelly subway station, Aria didn't see the security camera mounted above the turnstile.
She swiped a prepaid MetroCard she had bought with cash.
*Beep.*
Above ground, in the penthouse tower.
A red light blinked on the massive map of New York.
"Sir," Marcus called out. "We have a facial recognition hit. 65% match. Queensboro Plaza Subway Station."
Damien spun around. He zoomed in on the grainy footage.
He saw a woman in a baggy hoodie. It didn't look like the elegant Vera. But the way she held the children... the way she turned her head...
Damien smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
"She's changing her skin," he murmured. "Clever girl. She's not running to the airport. She's staying in the city."
"Shall I send a team to intercept the train?" Marcus asked.
"No," Damien said, checking his watch. "The DNA results will be here in one hour. If that child is mine... I don't want a team to intercept them."
Damien walked to the window, his reflection merging with the storm outside.
"I want to be there when she realizes that there is nowhere to hide."
He grabbed his coat.
"Prepare the car. And tell the pilot to prep the helicopter. If she's heading to Brooklyn, I'll be waiting for her on the other side."