Mr. Copper stood by the panoramic window of Sky Tower’s upper conference suite, his back stiff, his hands gripping the edge of the marble counter so tightly that his knuckles whitened. The skyline glimmered beneath him — cold, silver, and indifferent. Behind him, Jackson stood near the center of the room, his posture calm, deliberate, but the tension in his eyes betrayed the storm beneath.“I joined Project Atlas,” Jackson said finally, breaking the silence.The words fell between them like a crack of thunder.Copper turned slowly, disbelief flashing across his face before it hardened into fury. “You what?” His voice was low but sharp, each word a whip. “Tell me you didn’t just say that, Jackson.”“I had to,” Jackson began, but Copper cut him off, his tone rising.“You had to?” He stepped forward, his boots echoing against the floor. “Do you even know what that means?""Calm down Copper, and hear what I have to say." Jackson said, in an attempt to make him understand but Copper wasn

I’ve seen that look before,” Copper murmured, his eyes distant. “That fire in his eyes — the kind that doesn’t stop until it burns everything it touches. He thinks he’s saving the world, but I know how this story ends. I’ve seen it.”Whitaker’s jaw tightened. “Philip’s mistakes were his own. The boy doesn’t have to follow that path.”Copper looked up sharply, his voice rising with the weight of everything he’d been holding in. “Doesn’t have to? He already is! The power, the secrecy, the damn stubborn pride — it’s all the same. And now Trey’s back in the shadows, the CIA’s falling apart, and half the city’s talking about ghosts and gods while the boy I swore to protect walks straight into a war he doesn’t understand!”The outburst hung heavy in the air. Even the bartender, halfway to the back room, stopped for a second before quietly continuing on, leaving the two men in silence.Whitaker folded his hands on the table. “So why call me?”Copper’s shoulders sagged. For a long time, he di

Jackson’s chest heaved as he dragged in air, cold and sharp like glass splinters cutting through his lungs. His sheets were drenched, clinging to him, the rhythm of his heart hammering like a drumbeat against the silence of the penthouse suite.Bella was beside him. Her hand found his shoulder, steady, grounding, the warmth of her touch chasing away the last shreds of the dream. Her eyes searched his face — wide, worried, glistening with the faint reflection of the city lights beyond the window.“Jackson,” she said again, her voice low, urgent. “What happened? You were shouting.”Jackson swallowed hard, his throat tight, dry. He rubbed a trembling hand over his face, trying to steady his breathing. “It was… a dream,” he muttered. “Or maybe something more than that. I don’t know.”Bella sat beside him on the bed, watching as he swung his legs over the side. His bare feet touched the cold marble floor, and he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, palms pressed against his forehead

“Sam, wait!” Hailey’s voice called behind Samantha quickening in step. “Please, stop!”But Samantha didn’t slow. Not until Hailey’s hand closed around her wrist, yanking her gently but firmly to a stop near the end of the corridor.Samantha turned, her eyes glistening, her lips trembling between rage and heartbreak. “Let me go, Hailey!” she snapped, pulling weakly against her grip. “You don’t understand! I came all the way here to check on him — to make sure he was okay — and the first thing I see is that woman kissing him like I never existed!” Her voice cracked, raw and wounded. “It hurts, Hailey. God, it hurts.”Hailey’s expression softened, her own heart twisting at the sight of her friend breaking apart. “Samantha… I know. But listen to me,” she said gently, her fingers still holding tight to Samantha’s hand. “You can’t jump to conclusions, not right now. You saw what you saw, but you don’t know how it happened.”Samantha blinked through her tears, shaking her head. “I saw enou

“News?” Samantha repeated, her voice flat, though her pulse quickened. “What news are you talking about?”Don Lewis gave a soft, almost amused chuckle. “Oh, come now, Samantha. Don’t act difficult. You always were the stubborn one. I’m talking about Jackson, of course. Or haven’t you realized how deep he’s gotten himself this time?”Samantha wasn’t surprised as that was the first thing that crossed her mind when she saw that her father was the one calling. “Deep? Since when did you start caring about Jackson? Thought you were always looking for a way to bring him down? Or is there something you are not telling me” She asked.Being Don Lewis’ daughter, Samantha was already used to his kind of games and she knew what calls like this meant and how manipulative Don Lewis always sounded whenever he was on the phone—something she and her late brother, Jack were able to learn from him.“Oh, please,” Don said smoothly. “You think I wouldn’t know what’s going on when Project Atlas is practica