Inventory.
Clay’s entire body goes rigid.
“Last warning.”
Still calm, the woman slowly sets the syringe onto the cart.
“You think killing me changes anything?”
Honestly?
Yeah.
Little bit.
But Gabriel beats everyone to the answer.
“Yes.”
His voice is ice.
Pure ice.
The doctor finally recognizes him fully.
And for the first time—
her composure cracks slightly.
“Well,” she murmurs.
“That explains the breach.”
Gabriel steps closer.
I’ve never seen someone look more dangerous in my life.
Not yelling.
Not emotional.
Just done.
“You remember me?”
The doctor studies him carefully.
“Gabriel Petrescu.”
A tiny smile touches her mouth.
“You were difficult to condition.”
Hannah.
Petrescu.
Romanian.
