Page 56 of Reckless Consequences

Alexander watches our interaction with clinical curiosity. “The beta bond shouldn’t be that strong.”

“Another Sterling miscalculation.” I step closer to Finn, protective instinct surging. “Your father’s understanding of designation biology has some significant gaps.”

“Apparently.” His assessment carries unexpected self-awareness. “There are many things father failed to predict.”

Including this conversation, I realize. Whatever Alexander expected from this confrontation, mutual recognition wasn’t part of the script. For the first time, I see him not as Sterling’s perfect soldier but as another experiment—one whose programming is developing unexpected variables.

“We’re leaving,” I state. Not a request. “You’re either helping us or hindering us.”

He studies me with the same intensity I might give a particularly complex encryption system. “Determination genetics. Mother’s contribution, not father’s.”

“Are you going to keep playing Sterling family analysis, or are we doing this?”

My hands fidget with the matryoshka doll, fingers working at the seam. It splits open, revealing... a tiny USB drive. Smaller than my thumbnail, carved with the same binary pattern as the outer shell.

Finn’s sharp intake of breath matches my realization. Not a weapon. Information.

Before I can process the discovery, facility-wide alerts blare through the intercom system. Red emergency lights bathe everything in blood-hued warning.

“Facility director arriving at main entrance,” an automated voice announces. “Security protocols alpha-one-seven activated.”

Alexander’s posture changes immediately, tension singing through every line of his body. His scent spikes with something primal—not quite fear, but something adjacent. His neck muscles tense, head tilting fractionally before he forces himself back to neutral. “He’s here.”

The words carry weight beyond their simplicity. He’s here. Roman Sterling. The architect of this nightmare. The man who put his twisted stamp on my DNA before I was born.

Our father.

“Now what?” I ask, pocketing the USB drive. “Your move, big brother.”

His gaze returns to the security feed—to Jinx and Ryker fighting their way toward us, to Theo coordinating evacuees, to Quinn’s team extracting test subjects. To my pack, who came for me despite impossible odds.

Something shifts in Alexander’s expression—a calculation reaching unexpected result.

“Central elevator shaft,” he says suddenly. “Maintenance access panel behind specimen storage. Security override code seven-nine-three-four-Fibonacci.”

Finn’s brow furrows. “Why would you?—”

“Because I was wrong.” Alexander’s admission carries the weight of mountains shifting. “This isn’t enhancement. It’s weaponization.”

The facility intercom crackles again. “Director Sterling proceeding to central laboratory. All security personnel maintain positions.”

Time’s up.

Alexander moves to the control panel, fingers flying across interface. “Use the drive Jinx gave you. It contains clean formula specifications—the original enhancement protocol without father’s modifications.”

“Why would Jinx have that?”

A ghost of a smile crosses Alexander’s face. “Who do you think has been feeding Mona intelligence for the past six months? We all choose sides eventually, little sister.”

“After the motel,” I say, touching the spot on my arm where his bullet grazed me. “You shot at us.”

“I aimed to miss,” he responds simply. “Needed to maintain cover. If I’d wanted you dead...” He doesn’t finish, but his meaning is clear. I remember his momentary hesitation before firing, the slight widening of his eyes when I chose Mona over the case.

The revelation hits like a system crash. My heart skips, breath catching, skin flushing hot then cold. Through our bond, I feel Finn connecting dots I’d missed, understanding falling into place.

“You could come with us,” I offer, surprising myself.

His laugh holds no humor. “Someone has to explain the security breach to father.”

---