Chapter 38: The Woman They Should Have Feared

Anthony grabbed Allison’s arm roughly.

"Do you hear that?!"

Allison looked at him calmly.

"Yes," she said.

Then smiled.

"And judging by your face, I think they found us."

Anthony’s grip tightened.

For a second, the ugly panic in his eyes almost overpowered the rage. Almost.

Vivienne stood near the door, her body perfectly still, but Allison could see the tension in her shoulders now. That was the thing about polished women like Vivienne. They could hide anger beautifully, but fear had a way of changing the spine.

"They found the facility too quickly," Anthony snapped.

Vivienne didn’t look at him. "Clearly."

"That’s all you have to say?"

Vivienne turned, eyes cold. "What would you prefer, Anthony? Comfort?"

Allison huffed a laugh.

Both of them looked at her.

"Sorry," Allison said. "It’s just nice watching villains bicker. Really builds the atmosphere."

Anthony’s face twisted. "You still think this is funny?"

"No," Allison said, lowering her gaze to his hand on her arm. "I think you should let go."

He leaned in. "Or what?"

Something in Allison’s expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Not loudly.

Just enough.

Her eyes cooled.

"Or you’ll learn something embarrassing about me."

Anthony sneered. "You’re tied up."

"Was," Allison corrected.

His eyes dropped.

Too late.

The rope around her wrists slipped loose.

She had been working it for the last fifteen minutes—slow, careful, using the edge of an old exposed spring inside the mattress. Not enough movement for them to notice. Just enough friction to fray the knot.

Anthony had been too busy spiraling.

Vivienne had been too busy monologuing.

And Allison?

Allison had been quiet enough to be underestimated.

Again.

Anthony jerked back, but Allison moved first.

She twisted her wrist free, hooked her hand over his thumb, and forced it backward with sharp, brutal precision.

Anthony yelped.

His knees buckled.

Allison rose from the mattress in one smooth motion and drove her knee into his stomach.

Air punched out of him.

He stumbled back, choking.

Vivienne’s eyes widened.

Only for a second.

Then she lunged.

Not wild.

Not clumsy.

Vivienne moved like someone who had taken expensive self-defense classes and believed that made her dangerous.

Allison almost smiled.

Almost.

Vivienne swung.

Allison ducked under the strike, stepped inside her reach, and slapped her hard across the face.

SMACK.

The sound cracked through the room.

Vivienne froze.

More from shock than pain.

Allison slapped her again.

SMACK.

This time Vivienne staggered half a step, one hand flying to her cheek.

Allison tilted her head.

"That one was for the boutique."

Vivienne’s eyes went murderous.

Anthony coughed from the floor. "You bitch—"

Allison turned and kicked his knee out from under him.

He dropped with a grunt.

"And that was for interrupting."

Vivienne snapped.

The mask broke completely.

She lunged with a sharp cry, hands reaching for Allison’s throat.

Allison caught her wrist midair.

Twisted.

Vivienne gasped as Allison turned her arm behind her back with controlled force, not enough to break it, but enough to make the warning very clear.

"Careful," Allison said near her ear. "You’re going to wrinkle the villain dress."

Vivienne tried to wrench free.

Wrong choice.

Allison pivoted, swept one foot behind Vivienne’s ankle, and forced her down to one knee.

Vivienne hissed in pain.

"You think you’ve won?" Vivienne spat.

Allison leaned closer.

"No," she said. "I think you’re terrible at losing."

Then she released Vivienne’s arm just enough for Vivienne to turn—

And punched her square in the face.

Vivienne hit the floor.

Hard.

For one stunning second, the room went silent.

Anthony stared from the ground, breathless and pale.

Vivienne pushed herself onto one elbow, blood at the corner of her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief.

Allison flexed her hand, wincing slightly.

"Ow," she muttered. "Okay. That looked cooler in my head."

Outside the room, footsteps thundered closer.

Shouting.

A crash.

Vivienne recovered faster than Anthony.

Her hand shot under the metal table.

Allison saw the movement.

"Don’t."

Vivienne pulled a small black device free.

Anthony’s face changed. "Vivienne—"

She pressed it.

The lights cut.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Allison moved immediately.

Not toward the door.

Toward the wall.

She remembered the room’s layout now. Mattress behind her. Table to the left. Anthony on the floor near the chair. Vivienne by the far wall.

A shot rang out from somewhere outside the room.

Not inside.

Still close enough to freeze blood.

Then Lucian’s voice roared through the corridor.

"Allison!"

Her heart clenched.

"I’m here!" she shouted.

Something slammed into her from the side.

Vivienne.

Allison hit the floor hard, shoulder taking most of it. Vivienne clawed at her, all elegance gone, hair loosened, breath sharp with rage.

"You should have stayed nothing," Vivienne hissed.

Allison caught her wrist again, rolled her hips, and used Vivienne’s momentum to flip her sideways. Vivienne crashed against the mattress frame.

Allison scrambled up.

Anthony grabbed her ankle.

She looked down at him.

Really looked.

He was on the floor, desperate, pathetic, still trying to drag her back because that was all he had ever known how to do.

Allison’s voice went cold.

"Let go."

He didn’t.

So she drove her heel down near his wrist, close enough to shock him into releasing without crushing bone.

He recoiled.

The door burst open.

A harsh beam of light cut through the darkness.

Lucian entered first.

Gun raised.

Eyes wild in a way Allison had never seen.

Behind him came Adrian’s security, then Adrian himself, cold as death in human form.

For one second, Lucian saw Allison standing in the middle of the room, robe replaced by torn blouse, wrists red, hair wild, one cheek smudged, hand clenched.

Then he saw Anthony on the floor.

Vivienne bleeding near the mattress.

And something in his expression shifted from terror to something far more dangerous.

"Allison," he said.

She looked at him.

"I’m fine."

His eyes flicked over her wrists.

She corrected herself. "Mostly fine."

Lucian moved toward her immediately.

Vivienne staggered up behind Allison.

"Behind you!" Theo shouted from the doorway.

Allison didn’t turn fully.

She dropped low, caught Vivienne’s forward arm, twisted under it, and drove her elbow backward into Vivienne’s ribs.

Vivienne cried out.

Allison spun and shoved her into the wall, forearm pressed across her collarbone.

"Enough," Allison snapped.

Vivienne stared at her, breathing hard, hatred blazing.

Allison’s voice lowered.

"You wanted to know what world I was born into?" she said. "This one."

Then security moved in.

But before they could restrain her, an explosion of smoke burst from the far vent.

Thick.

Gray.

Chemical.

Lucian grabbed Allison and pulled her back against him.

"Mask!" Adrian barked.

Security surged.

Someone shouted from the corridor.

"Rear exit breach!"

Through the smoke, Anthony crawled toward the side door.

Vivienne stumbled after him, one hand pressed to her bleeding mouth.

Theo lunged forward, but a second smoke canister rolled across the floor, forcing everyone back.

"Damn it!" Theo snapped.

Lucian kept Allison behind him, one arm locked around her waist as he turned her away from the smoke.

Adrian’s voice cut through the chaos. "Priority is Allison. Clear her out."

"No," Allison coughed, struggling. "They’re getting away."

Lucian’s grip tightened. "You’re bleeding."

"It’s not important."

"It is to me."

That stopped her for half a second.

Long enough for Adrian’s men to pull them into the corridor.

By the time the smoke cleared enough to see, Anthony and Vivienne were gone.

⸻

The rain had not stopped.

It poured over the facility, drumming against metal roofing and broken pavement while security teams swept the perimeter.

Allison sat in the back of an SUV with a blanket around her shoulders, refusing to look as shaken as her body wanted to feel.

Lucian crouched in front of her, examining the rope burns on her wrists with a control that looked painful.

"You’re angry," she said.

His jaw flexed. "Yes."

"At me?"

His eyes lifted.

"No."

"At them?"

"Yes."

"At yourself?"

A pause.

Too long.

Allison sighed. "Lucian."

He looked away.

"I should have gotten to you faster."

She leaned forward despite the ache in her ribs. "Do not do that."

His gaze returned to hers.

"They took you in front of me."

"And I got myself loose before you came in," she said. "So clearly, I was not just waiting around dramatically."

Theo appeared beside the open SUV door, soaked from rain, hair plastered slightly to his forehead, expression unreadable.

"That," he said, "was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen."

Allison looked at him. "You saw?"

Theo lifted a tablet.

"Facility cameras. Adrian’s team pulled them before the local system wiped."

Allison blinked. "There were cameras?"

Adrian’s voice came from behind Theo. "Yes."

Allison looked over.

Her father stood in the rain, dry only because someone held an umbrella over him and looked terrified doing it.

Adrian held the tablet.

On the screen, grainy footage played.

Allison slipping the ropes.

Breaking Anthony’s grip.

Dropping him with a knee.

Slapping Vivienne once.

Twice.

Catching Vivienne’s lunge.

Twisting her arm.

Punching her.

Simone, standing beside Adrian with a rain hood over her curls, stared at the screen with reverence.

"Bestie," Simone said slowly, "why didn’t you tell me you were secretly Jason Bourne in heels?"

Allison winced. "I’m not."

Adrian looked at her.

"You are trained."

Allison shrugged, suddenly very interested in the blanket.

"A little."

Adrian’s gaze narrowed. "By whom?"

Allison hesitated.

Lucian looked at her, concern cutting through anger.

She sighed.

"Dad, you sent me to Boston with no name, no guards, no connections. Did you think I was just going to carry pepper spray and vibes?"

Simone whispered, "Pepper spray and vibes is my new brand."

Adrian’s mouth flattened.

But beneath it, something like pride flickered.

"You should have told me."

"You should have told me you put trackers in my luggage when I was nineteen."

Silence.

Theo slowly looked at Adrian.

Lucian slowly looked at Adrian.

Simone gasped. "You did what?"

Adrian said nothing.

Allison smiled faintly. "Exactly."

Lucian’s expression shifted despite himself.

Then the moment broke as Elias approached with a phone in hand.

"Local police are three minutes out. Our official story is ready. Anonymous tip regarding hostage situation, private security arrived first, suspects fled through rear access."

Adrian nodded.

"And the footage?" Lucian asked.

"Secured," Elias said. "Multiple backups."

Allison pulled the blanket tighter.

"They had a plan," she said.

Everyone looked at her.

The rain grew louder.

She forced herself to sit straighter.

"Vivienne started watching me before Anthony knew everything. She admitted it. She knew my father sent me to Boston quietly. She knew Lucian noticed me before I even understood what was happening."

Lucian went very still.

Theo’s expression darkened.

Allison continued, voice steadier now.

"Anthony said I wasn’t supposed to stay long enough for this. Vivienne said powerful families fear unpredictability. She thinks I disrupted future plans."

Adrian’s eyes sharpened. "What future plans?"

"Lucian," Allison said.

The word hung there.

Lucian’s jaw tightened.

Allison looked at him. "She wanted you. Not just emotionally. Strategically. She thought your families were inevitable."

"They weren’t," Lucian said immediately.

"I know."

His expression softened slightly.

She looked back at Adrian.

"There’s more. Anthony didn’t know the full plan. I think Vivienne used him longer than he realized. He thought he was using me, but someone was using him too."

Theo let out a low breath. "That tracks."

Allison nodded.

"And that clinic photo? The fertility records? Vivienne reacted when I asked about being watched. She knows what it means."

Sharon’s voice came from the second SUV.

"She does."

Everyone turned.

Sharon stood there wrapped in a coat, guarded on both sides, pale and trembling but determined.

Allison frowned. "Why is she here?"

Simone threw a hand up. "That’s what I said."

Sharon stepped closer, eyes fixed on the tablet.

"I remembered something," she said. "After you left. Anthony mentioned a clinic once. He was drunk. He said Vivienne owed him because of what happened there."

Lucian’s gaze sharpened. "What happened?"

Sharon swallowed.

"I don’t know. But he said—" She looked at Allison. "He said if Lucian ever found out, Vivienne would lose everything."

Vivienne would lose everything.

The words dropped like stones into dark water.

Adrian stepped closer.

"What exactly did he say?"

Sharon’s voice trembled.

"He said... ’She should have burned the records when she had the chance.’"

No one spoke.

Rain battered the vehicles.

Police sirens wailed faintly in the distance.

Then Elias’s tablet beeped.

He looked down.

His face changed.

"Adrian."

Adrian turned.

"What?"

Elias swallowed.

"The clinic files just unlocked from the drive."

Lucian stepped forward. "And?"

Elias looked at Lucian.

Then at Allison.

Then back at Adrian.

"There’s a child."

The world seemed to stop.

Allison’s breath caught.

Theo’s smile vanished completely.

Lucian went still as stone.

Adrian’s voice was deadly quiet.

"Whose child?"

Elias looked down at the screen again.

Then said the sentence that changed everything.

"The file lists Lucian Calloway as the father."