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"Your brother's got six hours."
The man across the table didn't blink when he said it. Didn't smile. Just slid a folder toward me like he was passing the salt.
I kept my hands flat on the scarred wood. "What?"
"Leo Carter. Twenty-six. Last seen leaving the Red Line station four days ago." He tapped the folder. "Want to see the photos, or you good?"
My stomach dropped. I reached for the folder. He caught my wrist.
"Uh-uh. You don't get to look until you agree to listen."
"Let go."
"Sit."
I was already sitting. But I stopped pulling. His grip wasn't tight, just there. Warm. The kind of warm that made you realize how cold the rest of the room was.
He let go. Leaned back. The chair creaked under him.
Kane Voss looked like someone had taken a corporate headshot and dragged it through a building fire. Suit jacket torn at the shoulder seam. White shirt open at the collar, no tie. Scar tissue ran from his jaw down into the collar, pale and puckered. The kind of scar that didn't come from a car accident.
People called him a recluse. A freak. The Voss family's broken heir who only came up from the old district when the board made him.
I called him the guy who had my brother.
"What do you want?" I said.
"A wife."
I laughed. Couldn't help it. "Wrong girl."
"Right girl. Right timing. Right bloodline." He pushed a second folder across. Thicker. "Open it."
I did. My mother's face stared up at me from a twenty-year-old hospital badge. Dr. Lena Carter. Clearance Level 7. The hospital logo in the corner wasn't the one I knew. It was older. Embossed in red foil.
EmberSaint Medical. The private wing they shut down before I was born.
"Where did you get this?"
"Your mom worked in the deep labs. Gene research. Experimental trials. She signed an NDA that outlived her." Kane tilted his head. "You look like her."
"So?"
"So her name's on a list. A very old, very specific list. And you're her daughter." He leaned forward. "That makes you useful."
"Useful how?"
"Marry me. Tonight. Before midnight. I'll give you Leo back, plus fifty thousand to cover his medical bills and your rent."
I stared at him. "You're insane."
"Probably." He didn't sound bothered. "But I'm also the only person in this city who knows where your brother is right now. And in six hours, the people holding him are going to stop being polite."
My throat went tight. "What people?"
"The kind who don't leave witnesses." He stood. Walked to the window. The glass was cracked in one corner, taped over with packing tape. Outside, the old district sprawled in rust and shadow. "You've been looking for Leo for four days. You filed a missing person report. Called his friends. Checked the hospitals. Nothing."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I've been watching you." He turned. "You're a reporter. You dig. You ask questions. And three weeks ago, you started asking the wrong ones."
I stood up. "About what?"
"About the tunnels. About the disappearances. About why the city keeps losing people near the old station." His voice dropped. "About me."
I had been. I'd pitched the story to my editor twice. Got shut down both times. "Not enough evidence," she'd said. "Just rumors."
But the rumors had teeth. Three people gone in two months. All last seen near the Red Line. All with families who swore they'd never run off.
Leo had been looking into it too. He'd sent me a voicemail the night he disappeared. Excited. Scared. "Evie, I found something. Call me back."
I never did. I'd been on deadline.
"You took him," I said.
"No. But I know who did. And I know why." Kane crossed back to the table. Pulled out a contract. Twenty pages, bound in black. "Sign this, and I'll get him out. Don't, and you'll be identifying him at the morgue by morning."
I grabbed the contract. Scanned the first page. The words blurred. Marriage. Twelve months. Non-disclosure. Shared assets. Termination clause.
"This is real," I said.
"Legally binding. You'll be Mrs. Voss by 12:01. Photographer's already paid. Officiant's downstairs."
"Why?"
"Because I need a wife on paper to unlock my inheritance. And I need her to have your mother's name in her bloodline to unlock something else."
"What else?"
"That's page twelve."
I flipped. Page twelve was half-redacted. Black bars covered most of the text. But I caught three words. Genetic clearance required.
"What the hell is this?"
"Insurance. Protection. A key." Kane pulled a pen from his pocket. Clicked it. Set it on the contract. "You don't need to understand it. You just need to sign it."
"And if I don't?"
He checked his watch. "Then at 12:01, your brother's body gets dumped in the river, and you spend the rest of your life wondering if you could've saved him."
My hands shook. I pressed them against the table. "You're bluffing."
"Try me."
He wasn't bluffing. I could see it in the way he stood. The way he didn't look away. Kane Voss didn't make threats. He made promises.
I picked up the pen. "If I do this, I want proof. I want to see Leo. Tonight."
"Done. Sign first."
"How do I know you'll keep your word?"
"You don't." He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "But you're out of options, and you know it."
I hated him. Hated the way he stood there, calm and sure, like he'd already won. Hated that he was right.
I signed the first page. Then the second. My hand cramped by page eight.
Kane watched. Didn't move. Didn't speak.
When I got to page twenty, he took the contract. Flipped to the last page. "This one's different."
I looked. The final page wasn't printed. It was blank except for a single line at the bottom. A signature line. And below it, a small square outlined in red ink.
"What's that?"
"Blood seal. Old contract law. Proves you're who you say you are." He pulled a silver pin from his pocket. Thin. Sharp. "Hold out your hand."
"No."
"It's part of the deal."
"You didn't say anything about blood."
"I'm saying it now." He stepped closer. "You've come this far. Don't stop."
I held out my hand. He took it. His fingers were rough. Scarred. He pressed the pin to my thumb. I flinched.
"Don't pull away," he said.
He pushed. The pin bit. Blood welled up, dark and fast.
Kane guided my thumb to the red square. Pressed it down. Held it there.
The paper hissed.
I jerked back. "What the hell?"
Smoke curled up from the contract. Thin. Gray. The blood square glowed for a second, then went black. My thumbprint burned into the page like a brand.
Kane let go. Rolled up the contract. "Done."
"What just happened?"
"You're legally mine. Congratulations, Mrs. Voss." He headed for the door. "Officiant's waiting. Let's go."
"Wait." I grabbed my bag. "Where's Leo?"
"Close. You'll see him after the ceremony."
"That wasn't the deal."
He stopped. Looked back. "The deal was you sign, I get him out. I'm getting him out. But first, we finish this."
"Why?"
"Because the people who took him are watching. And if they see you walk out of here unmarried, they'll know the contract failed. And Leo's worth more dead than alive to them."
I followed him into the hall. The building was old. Narrow. The walls smelled like rust and damp concrete. No elevator. Just a stairwell that spiraled down into the dark.
Kane took the stairs fast. I stayed close. My thumb throbbed. I looked at it. The puncture was small, but the skin around it had turned gray. Like ink spreading under the surface.
"What did you do to me?" I said.
"Nothing permanent."
"That's not an answer."
He didn't answer. Just kept walking.
We hit the ground floor. The door opened into a chapel. Tiny. Candlelit. The officiant stood at the front, a woman in a gray suit with a book in her hands. No guests. No flowers. Just Kane, me, and a photographer in the corner with a camera that looked older than I was.
"Stand here," Kane said. He positioned me in front of the officiant. Stood beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him.
The officiant opened her book. "We'll keep this fast. Repeat after me."
I repeated. The words blurred together. Love. Honor. Sickness. Health. I didn't mean any of it.
Kane's voice was steady. He didn't stumble. Didn't hesitate.
When the officiant said, "You may kiss," Kane turned to me. Leaned in.
I stepped back. "No."
He stopped. "It's part of the ceremony."
"I don't care."
He studied me. Then nodded. "Fine." He turned to the officiant. "We're done."
She closed the book. "Signed and sealed. Congratulations."
The photographer's flash went off. Once. Twice. I blinked away the spots.
Kane took my hand. His grip was firm. He pulled me toward a side door. "This way."
"Where's Leo?"
"Downstairs."
The door opened onto another stairwell. This one went down. Deep. The air got colder with every step. Wetter. I smelled salt. Metal. Something else. Something animal.
"What is this place?" I said.
"The old city. The part they built over." Kane's voice echoed. "The part that's still alive."
We hit the bottom. A tunnel stretched ahead. Brick walls. Flickering lights strung on wires. The floor was slick. I stepped carefully.
A figure moved in the shadows ahead. Tall. Broad. Holding something.
Kane stopped. "Wait here."
"Like hell."
I pushed past him. Ran toward the figure.
It stepped into the light.
Not Leo.
A man. Older. Scarred face. Holding a gun.
He raised it. Pointed it at my chest.
"Mrs. Voss," he said. "Welcome home."
Behind me, Kane swore. Grabbed my arm. Pulled me back.
The man smiled. "She's bleeding already. Good. That'll make the test easier."
He cocked the gun.
"Run," Kane said.
The shot rang out before I could