The Don's Dangerous Addiction

A gunshot cracked through the air.

Before Avery could react, a hand shoved her head down. She was yanked into someone's chest, hard.

The bullet hit the spot where she had been standing. Wall chips scattered everywhere.

She looked up. It was Dominic.

His chin pressed against the top of her head. His gun was already in his hand. He fired at the dark figure on the windowsill.

His arm locked around her waist, so tight it almost crushed her bones. His other hand moved fast to the gun at his hip. In the span of a turn, he had already fired.

The figure grunted. The bullet grazed his arm. He stumbled but didn't back off. He pulled a smoke grenade from his pocket and slammed it to the ground. White smoke billowed everywhere, stinging their eyes.

When the smoke cleared, only a few drops of blood remained on the windowsill. Dr. Greene was gone too.

Avery gasped for air. The sting on her cheek grew sharper.

Dominic looked down at her. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a glass cut."

Her eyes landed on the floor. A small metal pin lay among the glass shards.

She bent down and picked it up.

It was the logo from her parents' lab.

Something that should have disappeared seven years ago.

"What is that?" Dominic's voice came from beside her.

"The logo from my parents' lab." Her voice tightened. "It was all destroyed seven years ago."

Dominic took the pin, looked at it, and put it in his pocket. He pulled out his phone.

"Drake. Track down the figure who just escaped. And take a team to the hospital's underground storage. Get Julian out."

A pause on the other end.

"Boss. We already went to the storage. It's empty. Just a pen and a note. 'If you want Julian, meet at the abandoned pier.'"

"Got it. Get the car ready."

He hung up.

Avery's fingers clenched. That pen was the adult birthday gift she had given Julian. He never went anywhere without it.

She said she was going with him to the pier. Dominic looked at her and said coldly, "Don't slow me down."

The abandoned pier. The air smelled of rust and seawater. Shipping containers formed a maze.

Drake kept his voice low. "Boss. Target is in warehouse three. Six men. Armed."

Warehouse three. The door was open. Inside was dark.

Julian sat on a chair. His hands were tied. Tape covered his mouth. A man stood next to him, his back to them.

"Finally." The man turned around.

Dominic moved half a step in front of Avery.

"Let him go."

The man smiled. "Mr. Kessler. You came alone?"

"My men are outside."

"You brought them, but you won't let them in." He stepped forward. "Because you know that if you start shooting, this woman's brother dies."

Dominic didn't answer. His gun stayed fixed on the man.

"Leave her here." The man looked at Dominic. "You take your people and go. She stays. The kid lives."

"No."

"Then the kid dies here today." He pressed the gun against Julian's temple and looked at Avery. "Your choice."

Avery's fingers tightened.

Dominic lowered his voice, close to her ear. "Don't move."

The man waited a few seconds. He pressed the gun harder. "I'll count to three—"

"Let him go." Dominic's voice cut in. "You want her, not him. He's useless to you."

They stood frozen. Neither moved.

Dominic kept his gun raised.

"Your men are in the warehouse. Mine are outside. You can't get out. Right now, you only have one card to play."

He paused. "But if you play it, you're not getting out either."

The man stared at him. He didn't speak.

Outside the warehouse, footsteps closed in from all sides. Then a gunshot rang out from above. Short. Precise.

The man's wrist took the bullet. The gun flew from his hand and hit the ground.

He grunted. Julian broke free.

Julian stumbled. His knees hit the floor with a dull thud. He didn't cry out. He just pushed himself up and crawled toward Avery with everything he had.

His hands were still tied. He moved on his knees, one push at a time.

Dominic lunged forward, kicked the gun away, and pressed his own against the back of the man's neck.

"Mr. Kessler." The man clutched his wrist and looked up. "You're slower on the trigger than you were seven years ago."

Dominic's finger hesitated.

"Seven years ago on that boat, you weren't like this."

The man glanced at the smoke, then back at Dominic. "Wenger said you were broken. Looks like he was right."

Drake's men flooded in. They pinned the man down.

Dominic holstered his gun. He didn't say anything. His right hand hung at his side. The bandage was completely red.

"Take him away."

Avery knelt beside Julian. She tore the tape off his mouth and cut the ropes.

The moment Julian's hands were free, he started scratching the inside of his left arm. His nails dug into his skin. Avery grabbed his hands. He didn't react. His eyes stared at nothing.

"Let's go." Dominic had already called his men to take Julian. "We'll talk back at the villa."

Back at the villa, Avery helped Julian inside and sat him on the couch.

As soon as his hands were free, he started scratching his left arm again. Avery held him down. He didn't react. His eyes were empty.

Dominic crouched down. He turned Julian's left arm over and looked at it.

The scar wasn't long. Its edges were clean. Not from an accident.

Raised lines marked the surface, like someone had used a fine tool to carve into the skin.

"That's not from a needle," Dominic said, frowning.

"Someone carved it on purpose. Wenger's people like to mark their subjects. 030. That was the project number for your parents' lab subjects."

Avery stared at the scar. Project 030 again.

But she never expected to see it carved into Julian's skin.

Julian's hands slowly stopped. They dropped to his sides. His eyes were still vacant, but his lips moved. No sound came out.

Then Dorothea walked over. She quietly slipped her hand into Julian's.

Julian's fingers twitched. Then they slowly opened.

In his palm was something. Crumpled. Damp. But still whole. A folded piece of paper.

Dorothea looked down at it, then handed the paper to Avery. She didn't say anything.

Avery unfolded it.

It was letterhead from Dr. Greene's office. A line of unfinished writing, the ink messy, like it had been left in a hurry.

"D—the next target isn't her. It's—"

The rest was torn off.

She stared at the line. Her fingers tightened.

Dominic took the paper from her and looked at it. "Greene's handwriting. He ran before he could finish."

"Who's the next target?" Avery's voice wasn't a question.

Dominic didn't answer. He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. "I'll find out."

He turned and walked quickly toward the study. But Avery noticed him brace himself against the hallway wall. His knuckles went white. Then he let go just as fast.

Julian fell asleep. The doctor gave him a sedative.

Avery sat on the couch, clutching the pin in her hand. Her mind was a mess.

She thought about everything at the warehouse. The scar on Julian's arm. The fire that killed her parents.

A crackling sound filled her ears. Flames.

Smoke poured through the crack in the door. Her father stood in front of her. His mouth moved. She couldn't hear what he said.

She curled up in the corner of the couch, holding her head. Her whole body shook.

A sharp clink came from the coffee table.

Dominic had set a glass of water in front of her. He crouched down so his eyes were level with hers.

"Done crying?"

She didn't answer. Tears were still on her face.

"Wenger is still out there. The truth about your parents is still buried." He looked at her. "You're just going to curl up here and cry?"

"I've been carrying Wenger's drug, watching his backer, for three years without breaking. What about you?"

Avery looked at him. His eyes were cold. No warmth at all. But the hand at his side was clenched into a tight fist.

She picked up the glass and took a sip.

"I'm not wallowing." Her voice was still hoarse. "But you're right. I have people to protect."

Dominic stood up. He gave a small nod.

Avery stood too. She looked at the bandage on his hand.

"Tomorrow, we start real treatment. We're throwing out Wenger's methods. We do it my way. No toughing it out. No stopping the meds."

He looked at her. "Fine. Your way."

He paused. "We're even."

Avery looked at him and smiled. "Even."

Just then, the doctor walked down the stairs. He held a lab report in his hand.

"There are traces of a neuro inhibitor in the patient's blood. Not standard medication. The kind that interferes with short term memory and subtly controls behavior. This doesn't look like normal treatment. It looks like the continuation of a long term experiment."

Dominic looked at Avery. "Is this connected to what Wenger gave me?"

"The ingredients are similar, but this one is more targeted. Designed specifically for adolescent nervous systems."

After the doctor left, Avery opened the USB drive. She pulled up the numbered list.

"You're 047. Julian is 030. I'm Candidate A," she said.

"I've been going through my parents' records these past few days. This project started as legitimate research. Trauma intervention for C-PTSD. It could have saved so many people."

She paused.

"But someone turned it into something else. Wenger was just the executor. The person behind him wants the experiment to continue."

Dominic looked at the screen. He didn't say anything.

"They don't want a treatment plan," he said. "They want a tool to control people."

Just then, a noise came from upstairs.

Avery ran up and pushed the door open. Dorothea sat on the carpet, drawing. Nothing seemed wrong.

But the drawing showed a long, narrow hallway. At the end, a closed door. A star shaped mark sat on the door.

Next to it, a string of numbers. 030.

"Dorothea. What are you drawing?"

Dorothea looked up. Her eyes didn't blink.

"Mommy. When 030 doesn't behave, he gets locked up."