After several minutes, Kyle's bike rolled smoothly to a stop outside the neon-lit facade of the Nova Plex Cinema.
The scent of popcorn and the distant murmur of excited chatter spilled onto the sidewalk as Kyle and Kelly dismounted and stepped inside.
Kelly walked up to the counter, pulling out her phone. "Two tickets for Mad Max 7, pre-booked," she said, flashing the QR code.
The attendant scanned it and nodded politely. "All good. You may proceed, the film starts in seven minutes."
Kelly turned to Kyle with a smirk. "Shall we grab some popcorn first?" she suggested, already angling toward the concession counter.
Kyle chuckled. "Sure," He knew that for Kelly, the movie experience wasn't complete without something sweet to keep her mouth busy.
They made their way to the concession stand, grabbing a large tub of popcorn and two sodas. The buttery aroma filled the air as they headed into the theater, settling into plush seats just as the lights dimmed.
The next two hours blurred in a whirlwind of explosions, roaring engines, and adrenaline-fueled chases. But Kyle's full attention wasn't on the movie, it was on Kelly's face.
For him, the thrill of going to the cinema with her wasn't from the films, it was from her laughter and lively expressions. He basically enjoyed watching her more than the movie itself.
When the movie ended, the theater lights brightened, and they rose, stretching and laughing as they exited into the cool night.
Outside, the sky was already dark. And the city pulsed with early nightlife. They hopped back on the bike, and headed home.
By the time they reached their neighbourhood, the moon was up. Streetlights flickered along cracked pavement. People still milled about… stalls closing, kids on hoverboards, some men clustered at an open bar, watching formula one races.
Kyle pulled up in front of Kelly's house… a blocky duplex nestled beside a local clinic.
Kelly climbed off, pulling off her helmet. "Thanks for coming with me. Even though I had to force you." she snickered.
"Anytime." Kyle chuckled, smiling despite himself. "Though next time, maybe we can watch something with fewer explosions?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Kelly protested, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Kyle.
"Goodnight," Kyle replied
As Kelly turned and went into the house, Kyle waited until her door clicked shut, then pulled away, the silence of the night wrapping around him as he cruised the remaining blocks to his own house.
When he arrived home, he parked his bike back in the garage and walked inside the house. The house lights flicked on automatically, casting a soft amber glow. He went straight to his room, changed into grey joggers and a black tee, then headed for the living room.
He collapsed on the couch, finding the TV remote by feel, and pointed it at the entertainment unit. The holographic TV flickered to life, casting blue light across the room. He scrolled idly through the content feed, looking for a suitable channel.
Then his phone rang.
Kyle picked it up. The display showed a local prefix, but the number itself was unknown.
He hesitated, instinct telling him not to answer. But his curiosity, and the deep, professionally ingrained habit of always knowing who was looking for him, won. He answered the call.
"Yeah?" he said flatly.
There was silence on the other end for a while.
Finally, a deep, male voice cut through the static.
"Hello, Ghost."
Kyle frowned. He tightened his grip on the phone. "Who is this?"
"You can call me Dax," the voice replied calmly. "I got your contact from Bucky."
At the mention of Bucky, Kyle's face turned instantly serious. He sat up straight on the sofa, dropping his feet to the floor, listening with absolute, focused attention.
"Go on," he said.
Dax chuckled. "Good. I'm going to go straight to business. My crew and I need a driver for a job. A very specific job. And word is, you're the best there is in all of south London."
Kyle furrowed his brow, his mind already running risk assessments. "What kind of job is it?" he asked.
"That's classified until you accept the contract," Dax stated, the refusal firm. "But I assure you it's a normal heist. Nothing involving high-ranking corporate targets or anything that will bring the Metropolitan Anti-Terror unit down on us. Just standard stuff, and high reward,"
Kyle raised a brow. "How much reward we talking?"
"Five hundred thousand creds." Dax replied. "You in?"
Kyle inhaled slightly. Half a million credits. That was a serious amount of money, which meant the job wouldn't be simple. And it definitely wasn't going to be a standard bank robbery. There will be multiple risks and slimmer chances of escaping.
But Kyle was never a fan of easygoing jobs. Complacency killed careers like his. The adrenaline was one of the things he lived for.
"I'm in," he said, making his decision on the spot.
"Lovely," Dax replied instantly. "The job's tomorrow. I just texted you the address where we'll be meeting. Be there, eight PM sharp. I'll explain the rest of the details when you arrive. Don't be late. And don't bring your phone."
"Okay," Kyle confirmed.
Dax hung up without another word.
He tossed the phone on the couch and rubbed his face. Another getaway job had just been booked.
He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "How long do I got'a keep doin' this?" he thought. Then…
Tap! Tap! Tap!
A knock came at the door.
Kyle blinked, jolted from his thoughts. "Coming," he called out, pushing himself off the couch.
He opened the door to find a young man in a branded uniform standing on his porch, holding a familiar, square cardboard box.
"Evenin', mate. Pizza delivery for a… Kyle?" the guy said.
Kyle tilted his head in confusion. "I didn't order any pizza." he said sharply.
The guy checked his holo-pad to confirm. "Yeah. Says it's from a Carol 'Kelly' Freeman. Told me to tell you— uh…" He squinted at the message. "'This is for the noodles. Now we're even.'" he read out, looking genuinely confused by the message.
Kyle, however, instantly smiled. "Okay, I understand," he said, laughing softly, then took the heavy box. "Thanks, fam. Have a good night."
He closed the door and placed the large box on the coffee table. He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and returned to the living room.
He smiled to himself as he popped the tab on the soda and then lifted the lid of the pizza box. The scent of fresh basil and sizzling cheese was immediate and intoxicating.
"Oh, Kelly," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "What would I do without you?"
He took the first perfect slice, sinking back into the couch. He picked up the TV remote, scrolling until he found the channel showing his favorite late-night viewing: An old sitcom about a cartoon family with yellow skin arguing around a kitchen table.
Kyle found himself smiling around a mouthful of cheese as the dad character got electrocuted trying to fix the toaster. He spent the rest of the night eating pizza, drinking soda, and watching the animated sitcom family grapple with the simple, absurd problems of their world.
This was his own escape from reality.
...…..
The next morning,
Kyle woke slowly to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the thin curtains of his bedroom. The city's distant hum was a gentle reminder that life outside never truly paused.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched the stiffness from his muscles, preparing to start the day's planned activities.
But today, he wasn't planning on working in the garage.
Today was about her.
Once a month, for the last eight years, the syndicate that took his sister allowed him to visit her; a short, supervised visit, like she was some prisoner he had to schedule appointments with. It wasn't good enough… but it was still better than nothing.
He showered fast. The bathroom steaming up with the scent of cheap soap and metal pipes. After that, he put on a clean black shirt, denim jacket, and dark trousers.
"Another month," he muttered to himself, looking at his reflection in the cracked mirror. "I hope she's doing okay,"
He grabbed his keys and stepped out, closing the front door behind him.
Outside, the backstreets of Peckham were already alive. The air smelled of oil, smoke, and fried food. People were out… kids running, women gossiping on their balconies, and a couple of lads chatting about their favorite artists.
As Kyle started his bike, the hum of its engine cut through the street's chatter, enough for some teenage boys skating along the neighborhood to hear.
"Yo, Kyle!" one of the boys shouted from across the street, flashing a grin.
Kyle smirked beneath his helmet. "Morning, Reece. Keep outta trouble, yeah?"
The boy laughed. "You know me, bruv. I like to keep things jiggy,"
"Exactly why I said that." Kyle revved his bike and sped off, the laughter fading behind him.
The city rolled past in a blur… holographic billboards flickering above the streets, drones weaving through traffic, street vendors selling synthetic food on every corner.
As he sped further north, the atmosphere began to shift.
The deeper he rode into central London, the cleaner the air became; the skies clearer, the noise duller, the buildings taller and sharper, shining like obsidian towers. Holo-glass sidewalks shimmered under the sunlight. Every corner had automated sentries in chrome armor, scanning faces as citizens walked by.
This was New Kensington District; one of the richest sectors in London. A place where the elites lived, where the air was filtered twice before it even reached your lungs. The people here didn't hustle. They just existed, sipping champagne and pretending the rest of the world didn't suffer.
Kyle slowed down as he turned into a neighborhood that looked like paradise. The houses here weren't houses at all… they were mansions that sat back from the road like they were too important to be near the pavement. Some even had expensive-looking gates, with luxury cars sitting in the compound.
And here, instead of corner shops with metal grilles, there were actual cafés with outdoor seating. Even the trees looked healthier, like they'd been given better soil to grow in.
All of these reminded Kyle of how easy he used to have it, how he also used to live in a place like this.
He arrived at a grand estate, and pulled up in front of its towering silver gate.
A guard's voice crackled over the intercom as he spotted Kyle through the security camera. "Identify yourself."
Kyle flipped up his visor, letting the camera get a good look at his face. "It's Kyle. Kyle Fox."
"Oh, Kyle!" The guard's tone instantly shifted. "Been a while, lad. How are you?"
"Same as always, Ben," Kyle replied casually.
"Good to hear," Ben said through the comm. "Come on in."
The gates swung open with and Kyle drove in, engine ticking as it cooled.
Inside, the scenery was like another planet. Five large buildings stood within the estate's grounds, each exuding luxury and purpose. The environment was clean and fancy with water fountains and perfectly trimmed lawns.
This was where his sister lived.
Not in a cage. But in a garden of gilded bars. Kyle always felt a pang of bittersweet relief knowing his sister lived here… and not in a prison.
He parked his bike beside the first building and stepped inside. The building's lobby was spacious and elegant, bathed in natural light from the windows, with polished marble floors.
Approaching the reception desk, Kyle greeted the attendant. "Good morning. I'm here to see Karen Fox."
"Alright," The receptionist nodded politely. "Please have a seat while I call for her."
Kyle settled into one of the leather chairs by the window, watching as girls of various ages.. mostly teenagers, moved gracefully across the grounds.
Many of them wore pink or black ballet suits, while others dressed casually, chatting and laughing happily even though most were taken from their families or bought off.
And that was because this wasn't a prison. It was a school.
The House of Maidens… a supposed training ground estate doubled as a girls-only school focused on ballet and fashion.
This was apparently one of the syndicate's 'Legal Business'. And cruel as it might sound, it was a pretty brilliant strategy: Girls from broken homes or debt-ridden families, like Karen, were enrolled to become dancers or models, performing at events for billionaires and royalties.
Kyle found this strange at first, but Karen had told him it wasn't bad. That they were in fact fed, clothed, and even pampered. But Kyle had seen too much of the world to trust comfort that came with chains. He didn't believe the syndicate would be that generous.
But at the very least… Karen was safe. That was all that mattered.
After a short wait, the entrance doors opened. And a tall girl with long white hair tied in a ponytail stepped in, her curves accentuated by a black ballet suit. She had purple eyes like Kyle and looked incredibly beautiful and more mature than her age.
Kyle rose when he saw her, a smile breaking across his face.
"Kyle," the girl murmured, rushing into his arms.
Kyle caught her in a tight embrace."Hello, Karen," He pulled back to study her face. "You look gorgeous."
Karen chuckled. "And you look like hell. Have you been eating?" she asked in concern.
"More or less," Kyle replied with a wry smile.
"Come on, we have lots to catch up on," Karen said, leading him to the private room where they usually spent their time anytime he visited.
But before leaving the lobby, she turned to the receptionist. "Oh, Rose? Could you get us some food…the usual, please?" she said with a smile, then added: "Actually, make it a full spread, just the way I use to have it. My brother looks like he needs feeding up."
Rose gave a polite nod. "Of course, Miss. Right away." she said, already picking up her phone to place the order.
Kyle raised an eyebrow at Karen. "Since when do you order people around?"
Karen grinned. "I don't. They just respect me now that I'm a senior."
"Senior?" Kyle teased. "That sounded more like you're the one running the place,"
Karen giggled. "Maybe I am," she winked. Kyle laughed softly as they walked down the hall and entered the designated room.
The room was modest… two sofas facing each other with a low table between them, and a dining table in the corner.
Karen kicked off her ballet shoes and curled into the corner of one sofa like a cat. "So tell me about the garage. I'm sure you spend most of your time there, doing whatever it is you mechanics do," she chuckled.
"In fact, I bet twenty bucks you worked there this morning," she added with a giggle.
Kyle sank into the opposite sofa, with a sigh. "Actually, I took the day off. Figured you were more important than carburetors."
Karen laughed. "Wow. Mark this day on the calendar. Kyle Fox voluntarily not working." she teased, but her smile was soft, and Kyle could see how much his visits meant to her.
He smiled faintly. "So, you been good? They give you any trouble?"
"None," Karen replied. "I already told you, Kyle. It's not bad here. They treat us well."
Kyle frowned. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Still… I don't trust them." he said.
Karen smiled softly. "I know. But I'm fine, brother. Really. Don't worry so much."
Kyle sighed, leaning back. "I'll stop worrying when you're out of this place."
Karen's smile dimmed slightly. "Can't wait," she said quietly, her eyes distant.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Karen voiced out.
The door opened and two women in gray uniforms wheeled in enough food to feed a small army.
Kyle watched in stunned silence as they arranged dish after dish on the dining table… pasta, fruits, seafood, bread, wine, even desserts. It was a full-on buffet.
When the maids left, he turned to Karen. "Wait, hold up. You mean all that is for us?"
Karen smiled sweetly. "Well, yeah. You looked famished earlier, so I ordered us brunch. Or aren't you hungry?" she said already taking a seat at the dining table.
Kyle was stunned. He usually had meals with Karen anytime he visited, but none had ever been like this. Never.
"I am," he murmured. "But this is… a lot. It's like a royal banquet,"
Then he stood from the sofa and joined her at the dining table. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of trap? Are you going to get starved for this later?" he asked, watching her expression.
But Karen laughed, picking up a fork. "Don't be ridiculous, Kyle. We eat like this everyday." she said casually.
Kyle scoffed. "You joking," he muttered, his mind refusing to believe something like that was possible.
Karen shook her head. "No, I mean it. This is the kind of portion I'm given daily," she said.
Kyle's jaw dropped. "What?! Since when? The syndicate didn't feed you like this before, so why now?"
Karen chuckled. "This has nothing to do with the syndicate. It's just one of the perks of being a senior," she said smugly.
Kyle snickered. "What kind of seniority gets you this sort of treatment?" he asked in amusement.
Karen smiled faintly. "The kind you receive after spending eight years dancing in front of wealthy folks,"
Kyle exhaled, still trying to process it. He didn't want to believe the syndicate would be this benevolent, but at least he could trust his sister.
"You've really changed, you know that?" he muttered with a smile.
"Maybe," Karen said, putting a piece of meat in her mouth. "Or maybe I just grew up faster than I wanted to."
Kyle stared at her for a moment, she had truly grown… mature beyond her years in speech, poise, and presence.
They ate and talked for hours, catching up on each other's lives. Karen showed him new dance moves, her body moving in ways that made him understand why people paid money to watch ballet. She laughed at his attempts to copy her, nearly falling each time.
Hours passed, and by the time Kyle was ready to leave, the sun was setting.
Outside the building, Karen stood with him near his bike, the breeze catching her hair.
"So, I guess this is goodbye," Kyle said softly. "I'll see you again next month."
Karen smiled and hugged him. "Can't wait."
Kyle hugged her back, wishing he could spend more time with her.
"Um… Karen?" A voice suddenly interrupted their precious moment.
They turned to see a teenage girl with light blue hair in a ponytail, holding a black briefcase. She looked the same age as Karen and also wore a black ballet suit.
"Here's the thing you asked for." She continued, giving the case to Karen.
"Oh, right!" Karen said, taking it. Then she handed it straight to Kyle. "Here, it's for you."
Kyle raised a brow. "What's this?" he asked.
Karen smirked. "Why don't you open it and find out,"
Kyle clicked the latch open.. and froze. Inside the case were neatly stacked bundles of pound notes. It was more money than he'd seen in his entire life, stacked neat and crisp like casino chips.
His lips parted slightly. "Karen… where did you get this?"
Karen giggled. "Relax. I didn't rob anyone," she said. "I performed at the Queen's birthday recital last week, and that's my cut. Two million pounds."
Kyle almost forgot to breathe. "Two… million?"
"Mm-hmm." Karen nodded. "But I figured you needed it more. Two million isn't exactly useful to me in a place where I'm already given everything I need,"
Kyle was speechless. "I… I don't even know what to say."
Karen chuckled. "You could start with, 'Thanks, Karen. You're the best little sister in the world.'" she teased.
Kyle smiled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Thanks, Karen. You truly are the best little sister in the world."
Karen flashed a smirk. "I know," she said proudly.
Kyle exhaled, sealing the briefcase shut. "With this, we're closer to clearing the debt. Closer to getting you out of here."
Karen's smile faded a little. "Actually, Kyle… I was hoping you'd use it for yourself."
Kyle frowned. "What?"
Karen sighed. "Kyle, you've suffered enough because of me," she said softly. "I want you to live a better life. Buy yourself a house, or a car, anything,"
Kyle smiled and gently cupped her face. "Karen… the only better life I want is one with you out of here."
Karen's eyes softened. "I just don't want you to keep suffering for my sake. It's not fair,"
Kyle smiled faintly. "Life's not fair, but it isn't hopeless either. Things will get better," he said calmly. "I promised Dad I'd free you. I promised Quinn I'd finish what we started. And I will."
Karen frowned. "It's dad's fault I'm in this place,"
Kyle nodded. "Yeah. And he regretted it every day till he died. But he loved you, Karen. So do I. And I'm not stopping till I make it right."
Karen bit her lip, then smiled weakly. "Fine. Just… don't get yourself killed, okay? I still need someone to brag about to my friends."
Kyle chuckled. "Don't worry. My line of work's perfectly safe." he said. Then he leaned closer and kissed her forehead. "Take care of yourself, Karen."
"You too, bro." she replied with a smile.
Kyle turned and mounted the bike, putting on his helmet. He spared Karen one last glance before starting the bike and riding out of the estate.
As he drove off, Karen stood there watching until he vanished beyond the gates.
Then she turned to the blue-haired girl beside her.
"He's cute," the girl said, smirking.
Karen smiled faintly. "Yeah. And he's off-limits, Azure,"
The girl… Azure, rolled her eyes. "You can't stop me from wanting who I want," she teased.
Karen shrugged. "You can want whomever you want, Azure… just not my brother."
Azure sighed dramatically. "That's a shame. We could have made a cute couple,"
Karen laughed lightly, walking towards one of the buildings. "Come on. We'll be late for practice."
Azure hesitated. "Actually, we've been summoned by the Headmistress. Says she's got a mission for us." she explained.
Karen paused mid-step. Her entire aura shifted… her smile fading completely into an indifferent expression.
"I see," she said quietly. "Let's not keep her waiting then."
And as they walked away, the gentle, loving sister Kyle knew disappeared, replaced by something else entirely.
Something cold and merciless.
If only Kyle knew that his sister had become… a weapon shaped like a dancer.