EMILY’S UNEASE Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that Leon was hiding something again. The calm mask he wore every morning, the precise tone of his voice, the way he left before dawn and returned long after midnight—it all whispered secrets.He said it was business.But Emily had lived enough years around men like Brandon to recognize when “business” was a lie wrapped in silk.This morning, Leon’s suit jacket still smelled faintly of gunpowder and night air. She noticed it when she picked it up to hang. Her hand froze midair, her heartbeat stuttering.Gunpowder. Not cologne. Not city dust.She dropped the jacket quickly and stepped back.For days now, she’d watched him move differently—measured, sharp, like a man expecting danger. And whenever she caught his gaze, there was something unreadable behind his calm eyes.That morning, during breakfast, she tried to sound casual.“Are you working late again tonight?”Leon didn’t look up from his phone. “Maybe.”“Where exactly are you wor

BRANDON’S TRAP The air in the Collins Group boardroom was thick with tension.Brandon stood at the head of the long glass table, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as reporters and shareholders filled the room. Flashing cameras bounced light off the chrome walls, giving the entire scene a predatory shine.Leon sat near the end of the table, quiet, expression unreadable. To anyone watching, he was just the family embarrassment — the jobless son-in-law who had no business sitting among corporate giants.But Brandon’s voice was loud enough to make sure everyone remembered it.“Ladies and gentlemen,” Brandon announced, spreading his arms dramatically, “today’s emergency meeting concerns the failed logistics deal that cost Collins Group nearly five million dollars.”Murmurs rippled through the room.He turned toward Leon, eyes sharp as blades. “And it just so happens that our dear Leon Gray was the one who recommended that supplier. Isn’t that right?”All eyes turned to Leon.He didn’t

EMILY’S CONFLICT The air in the boardroom was oppressive and heavy, as though each whisper was a knife.Emily sat stiffly at the long mahogany table of Collins Group Headquarters, her eyes unfocused as charts and projections flashed across the screen. Brandon was talking, but his words blurred into noise.All she could think about was the rain that had swallowed Leon the night before… and the echo of his last words: “If I don’t come back, don’t look for me.”Her fingers tightened around her pen until it snapped in two. Ink bled across her palm, dark and smudged, just like the confusion in her mind.She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Leon’s face — the sharp edge of his expression when he’d said he wasn’t the man she thought.And that voice… the hacker’s words — The Shadow of the East.It sounded like something out of a nightmare.But the fear in Leon’s eyes had been real. Too real.“Emily?”Brandon’s sharp tone yanked her back to the present. He was glarin

BRANDON’S DESPERATION The next morning, the Collins Group headquarters felt like a sinking ship.The storm had taken out half the city’s power grid overnight, but it wasn’t the blackout that had the boardroom trembling — it was the man pacing at the head of the table.Brandon Collins slammed a glass against the wall, shards scattering like bullets.“Fifty million dollars!” he roared. “Gone! Just like that!”No one dared meet his eyes.One of the senior managers tried to speak. “S-Sir, the accounts were hacked. Our digital firewall—”“Don’t you dare talk to me about firewalls!” Brandon bellowed. “We paid millions for protection, and now I’m the laughingstock of the entire financial district!”He grabbed a report from the table and hurled it across the room.Numbers — red, bleeding losses — stared back at him.Every transaction from the Collins Group’s overseas subsidiary had been rerouted through a shell company.A company that had just been bought out under a fake name.A name Brando

FIRE IN THE MIRROR The car tore through the highway like a phantom — a blur of black steel under the moonlight.Emily clung to her seatbelt, heart hammering as Leon steered with precision that looked almost inhuman.Bullets had stopped, but the echoes still rang in her ears.“Leon, what’s happening? Who are they?” she demanded, voice shaking.Leon didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with that same cold focus she’d seen the night of the gala — the night he’d crushed a man’s hand without blinking.When he finally spoke, his tone was flat. “We’ve been tracked. Someone accessed my old system and triangulated our movements. The hit wasn’t random.”Emily gripped the dashboard. “Your old system— you mean Shadowline?”He gave a small nod. “They’ve reactivated one of my dormant codes. The one that connects to my prototype server.”“In English, Leon!”His eyes flicked toward her, calm but dangerous. “It means someone just hacked into a part of me that should have been dead.”Emi