All Chapters of The invisible Groom: Chapter 71
- Chapter 80
114 chapters
Chapter seventy-one
The air inside the safehouse shifted.Not with noise.Not with movement.But with the weight of the name Ethan had just spoken.Someone who wants me to come home.Lila stared at him, her pulse skittering like something trapped.“Ethan,” she said slowly, “are you telling me your mother is alive?”Hale and Riker exchanged a tense look—one that said they’d been waiting for Ethan to confirm this for a long time.But Ethan didn’t answer.He didn’t have to.His silence was the answer.Lila stepped back in shock.“You told me she disappeared. That the Cole Council ruled her dead.”“They ruled her dead because they wanted her gone,” Ethan replied evenly.“They never confirmed her body. No search. No funeral. No investigation.”Riker muttered, “Because they feared what they’d find.”Lila swallowed. “Which is…?”Hale answered grimly:“That she walked away from them—and took loyal soldiers with her.”THE TRUE MEANING OF THE BRANDRiker tapped the holo-screen to pull up the enhanced image again—t
Chapter seventy-two
Lila froze.Her lungs stopped working.Her heartbeat stalled.The room tilted around her, too quiet, too still.“What… what do you mean it wasn’t the first time I saw you?” she whispered.Ethan didn’t look away.He couldn’t.Because this was the moment he’d spent years avoiding.The moment his past would finally collide with hers.Hale and Riker exchanged a silent look and stepped back, giving them space—but staying close enough to react if the world cracked open.Ethan took a slow breath.Then he said the words that shattered the ground beneath her:“You saw me once as a child.”Lila stared at him.“N-no. I don’t remember ever—Ethan, I grew up in the Dawsons’ house, I never left the country, I—”“You didn’t leave the country,” Ethan said quietly.“But the Ghost Program did.”Lila blinked, confused.Ethan continued, voice level but strained:“Twenty years ago, the Ghost Program ran covert field assessments. Psychological tests on children. Harmless ones—or so we were told.”He paused.
Chapter seventy-three
The drive to District 7 was silent.Not the comfortable, warm silence that sometimes settled between Lila and Ethan—but a sharp, suffocating silence.The kind that wrapped itself around the throat and squeezed.Hale drove.Riker scanned every corner with restless eyes.Ethan sat beside Lila, jaw locked, body coiled like a loaded weapon.Lila didn’t realize she was trembling until Ethan’s hand slid quietly over hers.Warm.Grounding.Unsteady in a way she’d never seen from him.“You’re cold,” he murmured.“I’m scared,” she corrected.Ethan’s eyes softened for half a heartbeat.Then the Ghost in him returned.“You should be,” he said.“But not of them. Never of them.”Lila swallowed, nodding.THE FACILITYThey stopped before a massive, abandoned industrial site on the outskirts of District 7.Or at least—that’s what it looked like.Hale checked the coordinates again.“This is the place.”Riker grimaced.“I don’t like it. It’s too quiet.”Ethan stepped out first, scanning every shadow
Chapter seventy-four
The room vanished.The white walls blurred.The cold floor dissolved beneath Lila’s feet.All she could see—all she could feel—was the flickering image on the wall.Her eight-year-old self.Ethan’s eight-year-old self.Sitting in the same room.The same white facility.Side by side.Silent.Terrified.Branded children of the Ghost Program.“No,” Lila whispered.“No, that’s not real—my parents… they would never… I wasn’t— I couldn’t have been—”But her pulse hammered.Her knees weakened.A sharp, stabbing pain shot behind her eyes.A memory surged.Not a dream.Not an illusion.A buried truth slamming to the surface.THE MEMORYA cold room.A humming light overhead.A woman’s voice—sharp, irritated.“She shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t chosen for this division.”Another voice—deeper, colder, familiar.Slate.“Her father agreed. That’s enough.”Child-Lila—small, trembling, clutching the sleeve of a boy next to her.Child-Ethan—silent, jaw clenched, already learning not to shake even whe
Chapter seventy-five
For a full heartbeat, Lila couldn’t speak.She couldn’t move.Her father—alive, trembling, staring at her through the second glass room—looked nothing like the stern, prideful man she grew up with.This man looked broken.“Dad…?” Her voice cracked. “You—how are you—why are you here?”Riker leaned in to Ethan. “Marian timed this. She wants maximum emotional collapse.”Ethan didn’t answer.He couldn’t tear his eyes off Lila.Not when the ground under her was giving way.Lila’s father pressed his palm to the glass.“Lila… please listen. I don’t have long.”Ethan stepped forward instinctively.“We’ll get you out—”“No,” Mr. Dawson said sharply, eyes snapping to him.“You don’t understand. Once I speak, Marian won’t keep me alive.”Lila’s breath hitched.“Dad, stop—”He shook his head.“No. You deserve the truth. All of it.”The overhead lights dimmed.A hum filled the room.Marian wasn’t stopping him.She wanted this.She wanted Lila shattered.Mr. Dawson swallowed hard.“It began twenty
Chapter seventy-six
Red light flooded the corridor.The siren didn’t scream.It pulsed—slow, deliberate—like a heartbeat counting down.Ethan moved first.He pulled Lila back against his chest, one arm firm around her waist, the other already reaching for the concealed weapon at his side.“Riker,” he said calmly, “status.”Riker’s fingers flew over the console.“Facility lockdown. Internal doors sealing. External comms jammed. Marian’s running this through a Ghost-era override.”Hale swore under his breath.“She’s activating dormant protocols. Old ones.”Lila’s breath came fast.“Ethan… what does ‘activation’ mean?”He didn’t lie to her.“It means Slate forced the system to recognize us as an active unit.”Her fingers clenched in his jacket.“A unit… like weapons?”“Yes,” he answered softly.“But listen to me—being recognized doesn’t mean being controlled.”The glass holding her father suddenly darkened.“No—Dad!” Lila surged forward.The lights inside the cell cut out completely.A single line of text f
Chapter seventy-seven
The safehouse did not sleep.Even after the sirens died and the relay burned into silence, the air remained tight—charged with things unsaid.Lila’s parents sat stiffly on the far side of the reinforced room, untouched tea growing cold on the table between them. Her mother kept wringing her hands. Her father hadn’t spoken once since extraction.Ethan stood near the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled, posture still as stone.Riker watched the feeds.Hale watched the people.And Lila watched her family.“They’re lying,” Hale said quietly, not looking away from them.Lila flinched.“About what?”Hale finally turned.“About when they were contacted.”Her father’s jaw tightened.Ethan spoke without raising his voice.“Mr. Dawson,” he said evenly, “someone came to you before tonight. Not to threaten you.”Silence.“To negotiate,” Ethan finished.Lila’s breath caught.Her mother looked at her husband, panic flashing in her eyes.“Tell them,” she whispered. “Please.”Her father swallowed.“Th
Chapter seventy-eight
The safehouse went quiet after Slate’s transmission ended.Not calm.Not settled.Quiet like a blade held against skin.Ethan stood in front of Lila, unmoving, his body a barrier by instinct alone. Every part of him screamed to lock the doors, reroute the city, burn every path that led to her.Riker broke the silence first.“That’s not a negotiation,” he said flatly. “That’s a snatch-and-burn setup.”Hale nodded.“Slate doesn’t disappear. He relocates.”Lila’s parents sat frozen, pale and shaking. Her mother’s sobs had gone silent—fear swallowing sound.Lila stepped forward anyway.“I’m not walking into a trap blind,” she said evenly. “But I’m also not letting him decide my worth.”Ethan turned to her slowly.His eyes were dark—not with anger.With terror.Not the kind that makes men run.The kind that makes them destroy worlds.“You are not going,” he said.She met his gaze without flinching.“I already am.”The words landed heavy.Riker swore under his breath.“Ma’am, with respect—”
Chapter seventy-nine
Slate studied Lila like a puzzle he hadn’t solved yet.Not hungrily.Not cruelly.Cautiously.“You’re calmer than I expected,” he said, circling her slowly. “Most people shake when they stand where you are.”Lila didn’t move.“Most people don’t know why they’re here,” she replied.That made him pause.A flicker—brief, but real—crossed his eyes.“So,” Slate murmured, “you do remember something.”She held his gaze.“I remember enough to know you’re not afraid of Ethan.”Slate laughed quietly.“Oh, I’m afraid of Ethan.”He leaned closer, voice dropping.“I’m afraid of what he becomes when he stops believing he has a choice.”Lila’s pulse thudded.“That’s not why you brought me here.”“No,” Slate agreed. “I brought you because you’re the key he never knew he carried.”She exhaled slowly.“Then stop circling and say it.”Slate straightened.“When you were a child,” he said, “you spent six weeks in a medical wing you don’t remember.”Her chest tightened.“You had seizures,” he continued. “N
Chapter eighty
The alarms didn’t stop.They changed.From sharp warnings to a low, constant thrum that vibrated through bone and steel alike.Ethan felt it immediately.Not sound.Pressure.Like the building itself had drawn a breath.“Everyone move,” he ordered. “Now.”Hale didn’t argue. Riker didn’t question it. They trusted the tone in Ethan’s voice—the one he used only when instinct and experience screamed the same word.Too late.They moved through the service corridor as blast doors slammed down behind them, sealing paths they’d used seconds earlier.Lila stayed close, hand gripping the back of Ethan’s jacket, her steps steady despite the tremor in the floor.“What is that?” she asked.Ethan didn’t answer at first.Because he wasn’t sure how.Riker glanced at his tablet, face tightening.“Sir… systems are rebooting on their own. Old systems. Ones that shouldn’t even be connected to power.”Hale swore under his breath.“This place was built on top of something.”“Yes,” Ethan said quietly.“It w