The facility was a maze of sterile hallways and flashing red alarms, but Vihan had no time to think. His mother’s voice still echoed in his mind—Don’t trust them. Run.

  And that was exactly what he planned to do.

  Zara led the way, her blade still slick with blood as she took down another guard with a sharp elbow to the ribs. Asha stayed close to Vihan, her breathing heavy, her face pale with shock.

  The man in the suit—whoever he was—was still behind them, barking orders, but they had seconds at best before more reinforcements arrived.

  Vihan’s heart pounded. His mind was screaming, calculating. They had entered through the rooftop, but that was no longer an option. The only way out now was through the lower levels—toward the loading docks.

  “Where’s the exit?” Asha asked between breaths.

  Vihan’s eyes darted to a wall-mounted terminal. He yanked his tablet from his bag and plugged it in, fingers flying over the screen.

  A map of the facility flickered to life.

  “There!” He pointed to a service elevator at the far end of the corridor. “It leads straight to the docks.”

  Zara wiped her blade against her sleeve. “Then let’s move before more of your fan club shows up.”

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  They sprinted down the hallway, but before they reached the elevator, a metal shutter slammed down in front of them, sealing the exit.

  “Shit,” Vihan muttered.

  A cold voice echoed behind them.

  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

  Vihan spun around.

  The man in the suit stood at the far end of the hall, his hands clasped behind his back. Six heavily armed guards flanked him, their rifles raised.

  A slow, deliberate smile spread across his face.

  “You have something that doesn’t belong to you, Vihan.”

  Vihan swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the book. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing about my mother.”

  The man tilted his head. “She was a fool. And if you keep running, you’ll end up just like her.”

  Zara’s voice was low. “Vihan, if you don’t have a plan, I really hope you start improvising.”

  Vihan’s mind raced.

  Then he saw it—the emergency sprinkler system mounted above the guards.

  His fingers brushed over his tablet, accessing the facility’s controls.

  The man took a slow step forward. “Give me the book, and I’ll let you live.”

  Vihan smiled.

  “Yeah… I don’t think so.”

  He pressed a button.

  The fire suppression system roared to life.

  A massive spray of liquid nitrogen burst from the ceiling, engulfing the hallway in a freezing mist.

  The guards shouted as ice formed on their weapons, their movements sluggish. The man in the suit stumbled back, cursing as frost crackled along his sleeves.

  Zara whooped. “Now that’s improvising!”

  Vihan grabbed Asha’s wrist. “Come on!”

  They pivoted, running toward a ventilation shaft along the side wall. Zara kicked in the grate, motioning for them to crawl through.

  One by one, they disappeared into the darkness—leaving the man in the suit frozen in place, his furious voice echoing behind them.

  This wasn’t over.

  Not by a long shot.