"Larry!" A low, lethal voice cut through the air. Larry spun around to find Chris staring at him with eyes that could cut through steel.

Chris’s gaze was icy and merciless, a look Larry had only seen in the eyes of his father, Ethan Moore. It was the look that preceded the most brutal family punishments.

"If you lay a finger on her, I’ll ensure that everything you’ve built in this city crumbles to ash," Chris growled, each word saturated with menace.

Larry’s throat tightened. Ethan had always warned him: Never corner someone who has nothing to lose. At this moment, Chris looked exactly like that man—desperate and dangerous.

"A bold claim for someone surrounded by my men," Larry sneered, though his pace toward Amelia slowed. He studied her, realizing she wasn't his Molly. Molly was brave, but she was selfish; she would never risk her life for anyone. This woman, however, possessed a different kind of fire.

Amelia’s heart was hammering against her ribs, but she stood her ground. If the night was to end in tragedy, she would at least face it beside Chris.

"So, you’re the infamous Larry Moore," Amelia said, stepping forward with her arms crossed. "I expected a visionary. Instead, I see a man who uses shadows because he’s afraid of the light. No wonder Molly preferred a life without you."

Larry’s eyes darkened, his gaze raking over her with an arrogant, possessive intensity. "You’re far more interesting than she was. Perhaps I’ll keep you instead."

Amelia let out a cold, hollow laugh. She unzipped her jacket, revealing a complex arrangement of wires and canisters strapped around her midsection—a salvaged tactical device that looked terrifyingly functional in the dim light.

A collective gasp went up. Even Larry instinctively retreated a step.

"Amelia! What are you doing?" Chris’s voice cracked with disbelief and fear.

Ryder and the assistants were frozen. The woman they had once dismissed now stood before them as a fearless, desperate force of nature.

Amelia pulled a small, black device from her pocket, her thumb hovering over the activation switch. "I don’t care about your legacy or your feuds, Mr. Moore. But if I press this, the Moore family’s line ends right here, along with us."

In that moment, she was breathtakingly detached, a thorny rose standing firm in a lethal storm. Her madness was her shield.

Larry squinted, a strange mix of hatred and admiration flashing in his blue eyes. He slowly raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "Amelia, isn't it? You’re stunning. Leave Chris. Stay with me, and I’ll make you the queen of Celestria."

"I’d rather be a ghost than your queen," Amelia retorted. She took a step forward, her eyes locking onto his. "I’ll count to three. Either we all leave this valley together, or no one leaves at all."

Larry’s face twisted. He searched for a sign that she was bluffing, but all he saw was a woman who had reached her breaking point. "You’re insane..."

"One."

The surrounding guards began to back away, the threat of an immediate, catastrophic explosion overriding their loyalty to Larry.

"Two."

"Wait!" Larry shouted, the desperation finally bleeding into his voice. He realized that if she was even half as crazy as she looked, his life was seconds away from ending.

"Three is a long way down, Mr. Moore," Amelia whispered, her finger tensing on the switch.

"Fine! Let them go!" Larry roared, waving his hand frantically at his men.

The wall of black suits parted like a receding tide. Amelia’s heart finally skipped a beat as the immediate pressure lifted, but she didn't lower her hand. She walked toward Chris, her steps slow and deliberate.

Every step felt like a lifetime. Her back was soaked with cold sweat, and her legs were trembling, but she didn't let her mask slip until she reached Chris’s side.

Chris met her with a look of intense heartache. He didn't say a word, simply guiding her into the car as he ordered the driver to floor it.

As the Bentley sped into the darkness, Amelia saw Larry’s shadow in the distance, a silent promise of future vengeance. She leaned into Chris’s arms, the adrenaline finally leaving her body and leaving a crushing exhaustion in its wake.

"Don't move," Chris’s voice was hoarse as he helped her settle into the seat. "I can’t believe you did that. Where did you even find that... that thing?"

Amelia closed her eyes, tears finally streaming down her face. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the remote—a simple, broken garage door opener she had found in the debris by the road.

"It’s fake, Chris," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I found the canister set in the trunk of the car—abandoned, wires cut. It was just a prop. I just... I had to make them believe."

Chris pulled her close, his heart racing against hers. He had faced armies and corporate wars, but nothing had ever terrified him as much as seeing Amelia risk everything on a lie to save him.