Exodus Gamble

The hum of Phoenix Tower's security feeds pulsed like a heartbeat—steady, relentless, and unblinking. Data flickered across Ava's screens, her fingers dancing over the console, cutting through encrypted layers like a blade through silk. The air smelled of overheated circuits, soldering resin, and the faint, sharp tang of sweat—the scent of work.

At the center of it all, Kael Voss's profile loomed on the main screen—sharp-jawed, cold-eyed, radiating unapproachable power.

Ava didn't look away from her screen as she spoke, voice clipped and brisk. "Alright. Phoenix Tower. Voss is holding a quarterly meeting with his board tomorrow. He arrives at 09:00. Private entrance, north side. Security's tight—face recognition, drones, armed detail."

Leah's eyes stayed locked on the screen, her jaw set. "How long is he inside?"

Ava's fingers tapped a rapid beat. "Two hours, give or take. Board meetings are routine—profits, projections, power flexing. He leaves through the skyport on the roof. If you miss him inside, you're out of luck. His air transport is sealed, armed, and takes off in under ninety seconds."

Leah's voice was steel. "Then I'll meet him before he goes in."

Ava shot her a skeptical look. "That entrance is a kill box. You walk up, they'll see you, scan you, and toss you out—if you're lucky."

Leah's lips pressed tight. "I don't need long. Just a conversation."

Ava arched a brow. "With Voss? He doesn't do conversations. He does leverage. So what's your angle?"

Leah's gaze burned, unwavering. "I'll make him curious."

Ava's smirk was sharp, wicked. "Yeah? And if he's not?"

Leah's voice dropped into something cold, certain. "Then I'll make him angry."

Ava exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Damn. I actually believe you." She spun back to her console, pulling up schematics of Phoenix Tower—security grids, heat maps, entry points. "Alright, listen up. Security has three layers. Outer perimeter: guards and drones. Inner checkpoints: face and bio scans. And the final gate—Voss's personal escort. His people? Ex-military. Alpha-grade."

Leah's lips curled faintly. "Then we go around the scans."

Ava smirked. "Thought you'd say that. Lucky for you—Phoenix Tower has an old maintenance system. Underground service tunnels. Off-grid, mostly forgotten." She zoomed in on a narrow underground passage beneath the building. "This will get you to the parking level under his entrance. Close, but not too close."

Leah nodded. "How tight is the surveillance down there?"

Ava cracked her knuckles, fingers already blurring across the keys. "Give me fifteen minutes—and it'll be blind."

She turned fully, her smirk fading to something serious. "This plan gets you to him. But getting his attention—that's on you."

Leah's eyes burned with cold fire.

"Oh, I'll have his attention."

Ava studied her for a beat, then let out a slow whistle. "Alright, then. We run at dawn."

Leah's voice was soft, lethal.

"Let's move."

The tunnel smelled like rust and stagnant water, the air thick with the metallic bite of old wiring and decay. Dim emergency strips flickered along the ceiling, casting a sickly yellow hue over cracked concrete and forgotten maintenance consoles.

Leah's boots hit the ground in quick, silent steps, the sound swallowed by the tunnel's oppressive silence. Sweat clung to her spine beneath her jacket, and every breath felt like inhaling dust and electricity.

Ava's voice buzzed softly in her ear through the comm. "You're in. Cameras are looping. Got you thirty seconds of invisibility if anyone's watching."

Leah's eyes flicked up to a barely visible lens above the bulkhead door. "Clean work," she muttered, pressing her hand against the cold metal and pushing forward.

The door hissed open, and Leah slid through—

Into a cavernous parking bay.

A vast expanse of concrete and steel, lit by harsh white overheads. Sleek black vehicles lined the walls—VossCorp transports, armored and pristine.

Her heart pounded.

Voss would arrive here. Soon.

Ava's voice crackled in her ear, clipped and urgent.

"Leah—three hostiles. Outer ring. ETA twenty seconds. Take cover."

Leah's body moved before her brain caught up—diving behind one of the armored vehicles, her back pressed flat against cold steel.

Her breath slowed, muscles taut.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Unhurried.

"Area's clear," a voice grunted.

Another replied, sharp. "Voss inbound. We stay here until his convoy clears."

The third, a woman—cold and professional. "Orders are no interruptions. If someone moves—drop them."

Leah's teeth clenched.

The easy option—wait for Voss—just evaporated.

Ava's hiss in her ear: "Leah—get out. Now."

Leah's eyes narrowed.

And she smiled.

"No."

The guards circled the vehicle—

And Leah moved.

Low sweep—one down.

Sharp elbow—second staggers.

The third—Alpha-fast.

A punch clipped her jaw—blinding pain—

Leah hit the ground hard, stars exploding behind her eyes.

A gun barrel pressed against her temple.

The guard's voice—cold.

"You should've run."

Then—

A voice. Smooth. Sharp. Absolute.

"Lower your weapon."

The room froze.

The guard stiffened.

Leah's heart slammed against her ribs.

She knew that voice.

Her eyes lifted.

And there he was stepped into the parking bay with the same lethal grace she remembered, a figure cut from ice and iron.

Tall. Broad. Wrapped in black. His coat swept behind him as he moved, shifting like a shadow that had never once known hesitation.

But it was his face—sharp, carved from angles too perfect to be accidental.

His eyes. Silver. Cold. The kind of gaze that calculated first, killed second.

Leah had never met him before this moment.

But she knew exactly who he was.

Kael Orion Voss.

Retired General. Billionaire. Corporate war strategist.

He had made his fortune in logistics, supply chains, owning the very lifelines that kept people alive. But before that, before he'd bought his empire, he'd bled for it.

The youngest General in Alpha history. A prodigy. A war machine in human skin.

Until he'd walked away.

Thirty-one years old. Discharged.

Now?

Now, he owned supermarkets.

Which should've been funny. But when you controlled food, trade, survival? You controlled everything.

And Kael never played a game he couldn't win.

Leah barely had time to process the weight of his presence before the guard at her back stiffened.

"Sir—"

Kael's voice dropped, soft and deadly.

"I said—stand down."

The tension snapped like a wire.

The guard's jaw clenched—then she stepped back.

Leah's breath burned. Every bone ached.

Then—

Kael's gaze locked onto hers.

Cold. Calculating. And—curious.

His voice, smooth as glass, sharp as a blade:

"You're not one of mine."

His silver gaze flicked over the scene—the two downed guards, the bruises blooming across her skin.

Leah, still on the floor, let her lips curl into something between a smirk and a snarl.

"No," she rasped. "I'm not."

Kael's gaze didn't shift. But something in it—glinted.

"Then who," he said, his voice soft and dangerous,

"the hell are you?"

Leah's blood pounded.

Her voice—steady. Sure.

"Leah Móu."

Her eyes burned into his.

"And I'm here to change your future."