Ames Digital headquarters.Neo walked in. First time since the story broke. Since his identity became public.Employees stared. Whispered. Some smiled. Some looked nervous.He made his way to Adam's office. Knocked."Come in."Neo entered. Adam stood. Extended hand."Neo. Good to see you. How are you holding up?""Better than expected. The truth being out—it's actually easier than hiding.""I'm glad. And—and congratulations. On the legal stuff. Becoming Neo officially. That's—that's meaningful.""Thanks. It felt right. Noam died. Neo lives. That's who I am now."Adam sat. Gestured for Neo to join. "So. We need to talk. About the company. About—about what happens now that everyone knows who you are.""Yeah. I figured.""The board's been asking. Investors are curious. Media wants statements. And I—I need to know. What do you want? How do we move forward?"Neo leaned bac

Three weeks later.The trials began.Douglas Carver. Cassandra Carver. Mark Carver.All facing attempted murder and conspiracy charges. Federal court. Manhattan.Media circus. Cameras everywhere. Reporters camped outside the courthouse.[Carver Family Trial Begins: Attempted Murder, Insurance Fraud, Conspiracy][Douglas and Cassandra Carver Face Decades in Prison for Plot to Kill Son-in-Law][Mark Carver's Attorney Argues Mental Incompetence; Prosecutors Push for Full Accountability]Every outlet covered it. Every day. Wall-to-wall.Neo didn't attend. Didn't watch. Didn't need to.'The law's handling it. I provided evidence. Testified when asked. But I don't need to be there. Don't need to watch them suffer. Don't need—anything from them anymore.''Just—justice. Legal. Final. Without my involvement.'But he got updates. From Axel. From contacts in the DA's office.Day

Three months later.Neo walked through Midtown. Coffee run. Simple errand. Lyra wanted the overpriced stuff from that place on 5th Avenue.Autumn air. Cool. Crisp. Leaves turning.He liked this. Walking. Being normal. No security detail. No entourage. Just—a guy getting coffee.'Two years ago I was hiding. Terrified someone would recognize me. Now I'm public. Known. And I—I can just walk. No fear. No paranoia. Just—existing.''That's freedom. Real freedom.'He turned the corner. Almost ran into someone coming out of a store."Sorry—"He looked up.Alina.They froze. Eye contact. Recognition immediate.She looked—Different.Generic clothes. Target or Old Navy. Faded jeans. Plain sweater. Hair tied back. No makeup. Face—Scarred. Asymmetrical. Healed badly from Damian's work.She was holding shopping bags. Retail uniform underneath the jacket. Name ta

Two weeks after the all-hands meeting, Neo and Lyra sat in their penthouse. Morning coffee. Planning."I want to do something," Neo said. "With the money. Something that actually matters.""Like what?""A foundation. Helping people who've been through what I went through. Abuse survivors. People rebuilding after trauma. People who need a second chance."Lyra set down her cup. "That's—that's incredible. Tell me more."Neo pulled out his laptop. Started typing. "I'm thinking three focus areas. First: abuse survivors. Domestic violence. Family trauma. People escaping situations like—like what the Carvers did. Legal support. Housing. Therapy. Everything they need to rebuild.""Second?""Small business recovery. People who lost everything. Bankruptcies. Failed ventures. Give them capital. Mentorship. A real shot at starting over. Because I know what it's like to rebuild from nothing.""And third?""Education

Neo woke up hours later, slowly. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but the light filtering into the bedroom was that soft, pre-dawn gray. He felt rested, genuinely rested, for the first time in what felt like forever. His mind wasn't immediately running threat analysis or financial projections.He reached out an arm, searching for Lyra beside him.Empty space. The sheets were cool where she should have been.‘Wait. Where is she?’ Neo’s eyes snapped open, a flicker of the old paranoia—threat, vulnerability, exposure—crossing his face.He pushed up onto an elbow, searching the room. No Lyra.But then, he felt a soft, warm pressure settle around his cock. A wet, insistent heat.Neo groaned, the sound muffled by the pillow. ‘Ugh. Seriously? I must be dreaming. It feels too good to be real.’The sensation intensified, a gentle, rhythmic tugging. The wetness was incredible, the soft friction sending immediate, intense pleasure stra