The crystal tumbler caught the dying light as Ethan lifted it to his lips, the liquid burning a path down his throat.The expensive whiskey felt wrong in his mouth—too smooth, too rich for someone who felt hollow inside.Beside him, the half-emptied bottle of Macallan sat on the side table next to his father’s favorite chair.From the mansion’s grand balcony, Ethan watched the city spread out below him.All those people down there, living their normal lives while having no idea about the forces controlling them from above.Just like his father, he never knew what was coming.Ethan’s grip tightened on the glass until his knuckles went white. The grief should have been driving him crazy by now. It should have pushed him to hunt down Viktor and tear apart The Shadow. That’s what Lara and Marcel wanted—complete destruction, total revenge.But Max had told him, “Don’t let the pain blind you to what actually needs to happen. You’re the King of the World now, not just a son who lost his fat

Theo had revealed without hesitation the location of The Ghost’s residence, from which he claimed to have escaped, and here they were.However, the mansion was empty. No furniture remained, not even the built-in fixtures. Light switches hung from exposed wires, their covers missing. The hardwood floors bore the faint outlines of where heavy furniture had once stood. Even the light bulbs had been removed from their sockets.In the kitchen, cabinet doors gaped open.“Professional job,” Ethan muttered. He was amazed at how the residents had just disappeared completely, leaving nothing behind.He’d expected this, of course. If he were in The Ghost’s position and knew that his escaped prisoner might lead enemies to his doorstep, he would have done exactly the same thing. Clean house, burn bridges, vanish like smoke.Ethan wasn’t sure if this had really been The Ghost’s home all along, but one thing was clear: whoever lived here knew way more than just about The Order and Ethan’s identity

The silence in the chamber stretched like a taut wire ready to snap. Ethan’s eyes bored into Lara’s face, searching for tells, for micro-expressions that would reveal the truth behind her knowledge.“So you’ve been trailing me,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “For how long?”Lara scoffed harshly. “Don’t try to change the subject. It’s her, isn’t it?” Her voice cracked slightly as emotions she’d been suppressing finally broke free. "Jessica is the reason you’re rejecting me.” She pointed to herself, her face full of disbelief and hurt.She let out a harsh laugh. “Now I get why you told me who you really were yesterday. I was so confused about it until right now.”She moved closer to him, staring directly into his eyes.“That’s your plan, isn’t it?” she said. "You wanted me to let me know that since everyone now knows your connection to Mr. Aurelius had nothing to do with me, I should—“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​But Ethan wasn’t interested in her feelings right now. The fact that she k

Ethan chuckled again, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, not the deaths themselves. What I find impressive is The Ghost’s strategy.” His fingers stopped drumming as he looked at each face around the table. “He really means to prevent The Order from returning to power. And this… this was perfect execution.”“Your Highness,” Clara said, confusion clear in her voice, “how can you speak so calmly about this? These people died because of us.”“Because they believed in us,” Dr. Richter added, his voice shaking slightly.“For all we know,” Crane said, his voice low and urgent, “this could be the work of The Shadow’s remnants. They’re convinced you orchestrated Nicolas’ betrayal to break their organization. This is their payback.”“No,” Theo shot back immediately, speaking up for the first time during the meeting.All eyes turned to him. He straightened, his gaze locking with Ethan’s for a brief second before scanning the room. "None of their surviving members have that kind of intel on our op

A cold chill, sharp as ice, raced down Jessica's spine. Without thinking, her fingers stopped moving. Her brain recognized danger and chose compliance over rebellion.She forced her head to lift, her eyes traveling up from the black shoes, past a well-tailored dark suit, until her gaze landed on his face. He was unfamiliar. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features that looked like they’d been carved from stone. His dark eyes studied her with the cold efficiency of a predator sizing up its prey.Fear gripped her chest, but she forced herself to push it down. Years of journalism had taught her to stay calm under pressure, even when every instinct screamed at her to run.She cleared her throat, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. "Who are you?” she demanded, her voice tighter than she wanted. Her eyes swept around the small group that had gathered around her. Three men in total, all dressed in dark clothing, all watching her with the same unsettling intensity.“