Inside the weapons base, a floor down from the office, the tension is thick, and everything is already in motion. Kael moves with purpose, his mind constantly ticking as he checks over his gear. Each movement is deliberate, precise. Calm.

Deadly.

Jae stands beside him, his quiet efficiency a mirror of Kael's. Their actions are nearly mechanical, no words needed. Merlot is already armed, her jaw clenched tight. Her face is a mask of hard resolve, but Kael sees the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. The situation with her son is tearing at her, but she knows better than to question Kael's orders. Her place is with the Fourth's men, out of the line of fire, and she'll follow through because it's the only way to keep him safe. She knows it, even if it eats at her inside.

Samara, too, is gearing up, her movements focused. For the first time, she looks ready to get her hands dirty.

Catalina can't stop herself from watching Kael. He is a machine, each motion measured. Each click as he locks a gun into place, the soft rustle of ammunition, is a reminder of how dangerous this situation has become—and how far he'll go to protect his family and city and reign.

Then, Kael turns to Catalina, his gaze unwavering as he steps closer. His hands move with practiced ease as he straps a gun to her waist, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin. A vest follows, snug against her body. She flinches slightly at the cold metal against her chest, but she doesn't say anything. She knows she has no choice.

Her breath catches as he adjusts the straps, securing her tightly. "Just in case," he mutters, his voice low, almost too soft, but there's an edge to it—a promise. He doesn't want her involved in this, but he's not foolish enough to leave her unprepared.

Kael steps back, his eyes scanning the room. Merlot is already moving, but before she walks out the door, she pauses, her gaze locking with Kael's.

"I owe you my life," she says, her voice low, "but if my son is harmed..."

His voice is cold when he responds, "Lock my city down, captain."

Merlot doesn't say another word. She turns on her heel and closes the door.

As soon as she's gone, Kael's expression shifts. He turns to Samara, his eyes narrowing, his voice steely. "Cirillo's going to ask for him."

Samara blinks, confusion flashing across her face. "You just said he's secure."

Kael shakes his head, his eyes darkening. "I needed her placated. She needs to focus on her job, and if she knows he's safe, she'll stay in place and do what I need her to do."

His stepmother's eyebrows furrow. "You gave away his location. She'll betray us if she thinks for a second you'd give him up—"

"Merlot trusts me."

"Not until Catalina's involved. Merlot is a mother."

"Catalina won't be involved," Kael answers in a hard voice, his eyes narrowing. "Cirillo wants his son, but he's holding something else. He wouldn't step foot in my city without some kind of leverage. I need to deal with that first. Whatever it is, he thinks he has the upper hand."

Jae steps in and asks, "So he'll negotiate for him. And what are we doing to do?"

"He doesn't have what he wants. Not yet. And until I know what leverage he thinks he has, I don't make a single offer."

Samara studies him, wary. "You think he's bluffing?"

"I think he's playing," Kael answers evenly. "He's holding something he thinks will force me to make a move."

Jae exhales. "So what's our play?"

Kael's voice is calm, deliberate. "We stall, and we make damn sure whatever card he's hiding doesn't stay in his hand much longer." To Samara, he instructs, "I need all the information you can get me."

Samara nods, already whipping out her phone. "I'm on it."

Catalina watches the exchange from the corner of her eye, her breath catching as the pieces fall into place. Kael's plan isn't just about surviving. It's about taking control—he's already orchestrated a careful dance.

The door to the base creaks open again, and a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

"Am I late?"

Chuck stands in the doorway, his figure slightly hunched but still carrying himself with determination, despite the visible pain from his injuries. His jaw is clenched, but his eyes are sharp, unwavering. He's already armed, a grim resolve set in his posture.

Kael's gaze cuts to his left. "Right on time. Chuck, hunt every single one of Mirkov's men and keep an eye on Merlot. I need his resources here dwindled down while he's negotiating with me. None of them are leaving my city alive."

Chuck straightens as much as his injury allows, his jaw tightening against the pain. His eyes meet Kael's with unshakable resolve, and he gives him a salute. "Fourth."

Kael's expression doesn't soften, but there's a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. A silent understanding passes between them.

Kael gives him a brief, almost imperceptible nod. Turning to his brother, he says, "Jae. Catalina is your priority. She is your reason for living, and she will keep on being your reason for living until Cirillo Mirkov is dead." His words are razor-sharp, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "You will not eat, you will not sleep, you will not take a single fucking step that allows anyone to get near her."

Jae nods grimly, his grip tightening on his weapon. "I'll guard them with my life."

That them wasn't a mistake.

Catalina steps forward, her voice trembling, alarmed and terrified. "Kael—"

"No."

"But—"

"No," he snaps, his tone cold enough to stop her mid-sentence. But then he exhales, his chest rising and falling heavily, as if the weight of his next words threatens to crush him. His eyes meet hers—burning, desperate, and raw.

"Catalina," he begins, his voice low and strained, cracking just enough to betray the storm roiling inside him, "I need you to listen to me. For once in your fucking life, please just listen to me. I cannot lose you. Do you hear me? I cannot have you in danger. I need to deal with this once and for all, and I need you out of the way and safe."

Her lips tremble, but no words come out. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, her heart shattering under the weight of his plea. The Kael she loves—the man who is always so steady, so unbreakable—now stands before her, his fear for her safety unraveling his composure.

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching for her cheek, but he stops himself, his jaw clenching. "You're my reason for all of this, Catalina. You. If something happens to you, I—" He chokes on the words, his voice breaking for the briefest moment before he gathers himself. "I need you to stay alive. For me. For our child."

Her breath catches at the acknowledgment.

It's all she needs.

She nods, and Kael exhales deeply. Her hand finds his, and the moment they touch, his grip tightens like a lifeline.

Tears silently streak down her face, her other hand protectively cradling her belly. "Promise me you'll come back."

Kael doesn't answer right away, his lips pressing into a thin line. He steps closer, his hand finally reaching for her cheek, brushing away the tears that won't stop falling.

"Stay with Jae. He'll take you to the safehouse," he murmurs, his voice quieter now but no less fierce. "I'll come back."

Her hand clutches his wrist. "Kael..."

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to hers for a fleeting moment. "I love you, meri jaan," he whispers.

And then he steps back, the moment over as quickly as it came. Kael turns to Jae. "Go."

Jae drags her away, her heart lodged in her throat as she leaves Kael. Catalina places her trembling hands on her stomach, whispering a silent prayer that Kael will return to her—them—whole and alive. 

*

The car speeds down the rain-slicked streets of Pont-Ciel, the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers the only sounds breaking the silence. Catalina sits in the backseat, her mind racing, heart still trapped in a storm of worry and fear. Jae sits next to her, his eyes scanning the street, his posture tense as always. Fields drives, his hands gripping the wheel with a cold certainty.

Catalina's fingers grip the hem of her shirt, trying to stop them from shaking. Kael's parting words echo in her ears: Stay with Jae. I'll come back.

She remembers thinking, when she kept her heart tucked away where Kael can never get it: And what if he leaves the house one day and never comes back? What if she's waiting for a dead man to come home?

Catalina whimpers, shutting her eyes.

Jae, sitting beside her, scan the dimly lit streets outside the window, his body a coiled spring of readiness. He hasn't said much, but his presence is an anchor.

"Jae," Catalina says, her voice a shaky whisper.

He glances at her briefly, his expression unreadable. "Stay calm, noona. I won't let anything happen to either of you."

Catalina believes him.

Until, suddenly—

A figure, up ahead. Catalina's eyes widen in disbelief.

Frankie.

She stands alone in the middle of the road, bathed in the harsh light of the headlights. The shadows carve deep lines into her face, and Frankie's eyes lock onto Catalina's, full of desperation. Her arms are raised, shaking uncontrollably, her face streaked with tears. She looks ready to collapse—and her lips move soundlessly, as if begging for help.

"Stop!" Catalina gasps, her voice breaking as panic floods her chest.

Fields swerves violently to the left, tires screeching against the wet pavement, slamming on the brakes. The car lurches to a stop just feet away from Frankie; Catalina's body jerks to the side, her heart leaping into her throat, while Jae's weight presses against her.

"Let me out!" Catalina shouts, hands gripping the door handle. She needs to reach her. She needs to—

"No!" Jae's voice is commanding, his hands gripping her wrists, pulling her back. "Stay in the car. It might be a trap."

Catalina's breath hitches, her body trembling with urgency. "That's my sister, Jae!"

Jae's grip tightens, his expression hard as stone. "Noona, don't. We stay here. Fields will deal with it. Trust me."

Fields, weapon in hand, steps out of the car. His posture is calm, but there's a dangerous tension in the way he holds the gun, pointed at Frankie. His voice, though steady, carries the weight of authority. "Stay where you are. Don't move."

Frankie's eyes widen, her body trembling. The air is thick with the silence of the moment, broken only by the sound of Fields's boots hitting the pavement as he advances slowly.

Catalina's heart races in her chest. Every instinct tells her to get out, to run to her sister. She tries to get past Jae, but he holds her firm, his hands like iron bands around her wrists.

And then—

Three gunshots and a terrified scream—Frankie—crack through the night, and Fields jerks backward, thundering to the ground, his bones making an awful, awful noise.

"No!" Catalina shouts, the guttural cry torn from her chest as she watches the blood spurt from his side, his body jerking from the impact. In that split second of shock, she puts into action all of her training and shoves Jae aside, throwing herself out of the car. She barely registers the pain of hitting him in the process, the urgency to reach Frankie consuming her.

Frankie stumbles forward, still crying, her trembling hands lifted in surrender, one with a gun—Frankie should never be holding a weapon, not at all—pleading. Catalina runs to reach her, arms outstretched to grab her.

"Get away from her!" Jae is right behind Catalina, his own weapon drawn instantly, his focus laser-sharp as he points it at Frankie. "Noona, she's armed! Get back! Now!"

Frankie—whose hands shook at the sight of blood, who was always rushed out of the room before she could witness the carnage Catalina grew up with—is standing there with a weapon in her hands, and Fields is dead.

Catalina stops. Trembling, her sister pulls her shirt up.

Frankie's lips tremble as she takes a deep breath, and then—without a word—she pulls aside her jacket, revealing a series of bombs strapped to her torso. The red numbers on the timers are flashing.

One hour.

Catalina freezes. Her heart seizes in her chest.

"Catalina," Frankie whispers, voice breaking, "help me."

"Get away from her! Now!" Jae shouts, his voice a strained growl. Catalina steps forward, her body a shield between them.

"Jae will help us," Catalina whispers, looking into her sister's terrified eyes. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What has she done? "It's okay, calm down. Put the gun down, and let me—"

"If he touches me I die! We all die!" Frankie cries out, the terror clear in the shake of her voice. "If I don't do what he says I die, the timer won't matter! Cata, please—"

"Catalina!" Jae screams.

She turns around and comes face to face with his gun, pointed straight at Frankie's head. His face is cold and calculating.

"I can't let her take you," Jae—Cerberus—growls, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Step forward towards me, now."

Frankie's tear-streaked face twists in horror, but she doesn't move. The bombs tick down, louder with every passing second. Catalina can feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her chest, suffocating.

With desperation clawing at her throat, Catalina stands in front of her sister.

Jae's eyes widen a fraction. "Noona."

"Jae..." Catalina whispers. "Please."

A broken, desperate sound rips from Jae's chest as he tries to refocus, panic crawling up his spine. "Fuck!" he howls. "Fucking hell, noona, why are you making me do this!"

"Jae, she's my sister."

"You're my family!" Jae screams, her name tearing through his throat, almost like a sob. "I need to protect you!"

He promised to guard Catalina with his life and that's what he's doing. Catalina shuts her eyes, her own face wet. "Jae, I need you to leave. She's going to die."

"You—"

His hesitation—his torment—is all Frankie needs.

The shot rings out. Jae stumbles back.

He stares at Catalina, and Catalina's heart stops. "No! Frankie, stop!"

"Stop moving!" Frankie wails. "He's making me kill him!"

The next bullet strikes Jae before he can raise his own weapon again. His body is slammed backward, crashing to the ground, his gun slipping from his grasp. Blood spreads across his shirt, soaking into the fabric.

Tears stream down Frankie's face as she lowers the gun, her whole body wracked with violent tremors. She looks like she's about to collapse, barely keeping herself upright. "Please...Catalina, Cirillo, he—"

The words hit Catalina like a blow to the gut. Her heart splits wide open, torn between the brother she considered now a son and the sister she's fought her whole life to protect.

"What?" Catalina breathes, her voice raw, her mind refusing to understand.

Frankie, sobbing so hard she can barely speak, thrusts a crumpled note into her hands. "You have to come with me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

From the ground, Jae's broken voice rasps out, weak and desperate, "Noona...run..."

Catalina unfolds the note with trembling fingers.

Family ties are indeed fragile. Handle what remains with care.
See you soon, dear Catalina.
- Cirillo Mirkov

The words blur in her vision, but she doesn't need to read them twice to feel the threat settle into her bones. Her chest heaves, every breath painful.

Frankie clutches at her arm like a drowning girl, her nails digging in, her face crumpled in horror and guilt.

Catalina's legs refuse to move. She stares at Jae—the boy who trusts her, protected her, and loves her—and the agony in his tear-filled eyes cleaves straight through her.

Her hand twitches at her side, aching to reach for him. "Jae," she croaks out, the word splitting against the lump in her throat.

He tries to crawl toward her, one blood-slicked hand dragging weakly against the ground, leaving a dark, gruesome trail. Every inch he moves is pure agony, and Catalina feels it like it's her own bones breaking.

Frankie's grip tightens. She's crying so hard she can barely stay standing. "Catalina. We have to go. Please. He's going to make me hurt you both or he'll blow me up and we all die."

Catalina shakes her head, salt spilling freely down her cheeks. Her heart screams at her to fight, to stay, to save him—but Cirillo's threat coils around her throat like a noose.

"Jae, I'm sorry," she whispers, forcing one foot to move, then the other.

It feels like ripping her soul in half. She has no choice. She has to believe Jae will make it out of this.

She stumbles after Frankie into the darkness, not daring to look back again.

Behind her, Jae's battered body drags forward one last desperate inch.

The night swallows them, heavy with the promise of a ticking bomb.

*

#ReignTheFourthWP