Blood & Equations

Luca’s penthouse was a fortress of glass and steel, all sharp angles and surveillance screens. He tossed me a towel and a glass of bourbon.

“Drink. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’ve seen a monster, I’m looking at it right now.” I shot back.

He smirked, loosening his tie. “Same thing.”

I didn’t drink. Instead, I paced, the events of the night replaying in my head. “The Volkovs want your research. Why?” his voice broke through the silence.

“Power. Money. The usual reasons,” I replied, trying hard not to reveal too much. What’s to say that I can trust him? He, too, is in that line of business for the same reasons. Money. Power. He poured himself a drink, ice clinking. “But you already knew that.”

“Nope, just a hunch.”

He slammed his glass down. “Elena, I will protect you. Whether you like it or not, I’m on your side. But you need to stop hiding things from me.”

“When did I lie?” I lied through my teeth.

“Every time you open your mouth you tell me a lie. You say you like me, that I make you feel great. Profess undying love for me, then you block me. I know you are lying about this too. I know more than you think. You and I know they are not after some simple experiment.”

The words stung. What does that mean? Has he read my private research? When did I ever profess undying love? I simply said he was good in bed. It was an observation, OK?

“You’re working on Sofia Rossi’s old study, aren’t you? That’s why the Volkovs are after you. They were obsessed with your mother’s work.” He cleared, which made me breathe an internal sigh of relief. At least my private work is still private. That rules him out then.

But I still need to be careful, no need to arm him with more than he already knows. “Have you read her papers? I don’t doubt that they were obsessed with it. Her work could change everything—neural regeneration, curing Alzheimer’s.”

“Or creating super-soldiers,” he interrupted. “Depends on who’s holding the leash.”

I froze. “Is that what you want? To weaponize it?”

He laughed, low and dark. “I want you, Elena. The rest is collateral.”

The tense air eased between us. I hated how my pulse spiked when he looked at me like that—like I was an equation he’d solve, no matter the cost. But his response was perfect. I still don’t trust him. But he can hang around for now.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I said, turning away.

He caught my wrist, pulling me close. “You need a keeper.”

His lips brushed my ear, and for a heartbeat, I let myself lean in. Then I shoved him back. “If you kiss me I’ll punch you in the dick.”

“Really? Just now, I thought you were the one who leaned in. Weren’t you trying to kiss me?”

“Go to hell.”

He smiled. “Already there.”

The housekeeper showed me to my room, which happened to be right next to his. How thoughtful. I rolled my eyes.

I couldn’t sleep.

While Luca brooded over security feeds, I scoured the lab footage on my laptop, frame by frame. The sab moved with precision—avoiding cameras, erasing data, leaving no trace. Except…

There.

Paused at 02:13:47, the saboteur’s gloved hand hovered over a whiteboard. Scrawled in the corner, half-erased, was a string of numbers:

8-5-12-12-15

My breath caught. A simple substitution cipher.

A=1, B=2…

8 = H, 5 = E, 12 = L, 12 = L, 15 = O

HELLO

A message. For me.

My blood ran cold.

. . .

“You look like s**t,” Mia said, breezing into the penthouse the next morning with a latte and a lie.

I didn’t smile. “Why did the Volkovs mention you during the interrogation?”

She froze. “What?”

“Last night. The man said ‘Tell Mia she’s next.’ Why?”

Her latte trembled. “I… I might’ve borrowed some funds from their casino. For my consulting business.”

“Borrowed? Or stole?”

“Semantics.” She rolled her eyes. “Dramatic. I’ll pay them back.”

“With what?” I snapped. “They tried to kill us!”

“Relax, I’ve got a plan.” She hesitated, then pulled a flashdrive from her purse. "I might’ve also… hacked their servers. Found something you’ll want to see.”

The drive contained emails between Volkov higher-ups and a shadowy client referred to only as “The Architect.”

“They’re not just after your research,” Mia said. “They’re working with someone on the inside. Someone who knows your work better than you do.”

The screen blurred. No.