Three weeks after Rebecca’s funeral, a package arrived at the house. No return address. Just Lex’s name written in neat handwriting.Sophia brought it inside. “Should we call the FBI? Could be dangerous.”“Everything is dangerous.” Lex took the package. Shook it gently. Heard something small moving inside. “But it does not feel like a bomb.”He opened it carefully. Inside was a small box. And a note.The note read: “Mr Andrews. We found this at a pawn shop in Seattle. Records show you sold it three years ago. The new owner saw news reports about recent events. About your family. About Rebecca Kane’s death. He wanted you to have this back. Free of charge. He said some things belong with their rightful owners. He also said to tell you he is sorry for your loss. A grandmother who dies protecting her grandchild is a hero. He hopes this brings you peace.”Inside the box was the watch. Marcus’s watch. The eighteenth birthday gift Lex had pawned when he was desperate for money.Expensive. Sw

Lex walked back inside the destroyed house. Every step felt heavy. The message echoed in his mind. One month. Final fight. Winner takes all.Sophia stood in the hallway holding Hope. The baby was finally sleeping. Exhausted from crying. From fear. From another night of violence.“What did he say?” Sophia asked.“Alexei wants to fight me. One on one. One month from now. If I win, the Volkov family leaves us alone forever. If he wins, we all die.”“And if you refuse?”“Then he hunts us forever. Never stops. Never quits.”Sophia sat down on the stairs. The house around them was full of bullet holes. Broken glass. Blood stains. Their home was destroyed. Again.“I am tired,” she said quietly. “So tired. Every time we think it is over, something else happens. Someone else comes. I just want it to stop. I want to live without fear.”“I know.”“Do you? Because it feels like you keep choosing to fight. Keep choosing danger. Keep choosing anything except walking away.”“What are you saying?”“I

Emma Thompson was seven years old now. She loved soccer and drawing and books about dinosaurs. She had friends at school. A best friend named Lucy. A teacher she adored named Mrs Patterson.She knew nothing about Lex Andrews. About Sophia Sterling. About the violence and pain that came before her memories began.To her, Michael and Sarah Thompson were just her parents. The people who ran the bookstore. Who made her lunch? Who tucked her in at night?Normal. Boring. Perfect.Michael stood behind the counter of Thompson’s Books and Coffee. The store was quiet this morning. Just two customers are browsing. Rain fell outside. A typical New Zealand winter day.Sarah was in the back organising new inventory. Emma was at school. Life was peaceful.The door chimed. A customer entered. Man in his forties. Well dressed. Expensive coat. He shook rain from an umbrella and looked around.“Good morning,” Michael said automatically. “Can I help you find something?”The man approached the counter. Sm

Michael walked through the safe house. Guards lined the hallways. Weapons visible. Eyes watching his every move. This was a fortress. A place designed to keep enemies out.Or keep prisoners in.They led him to a room on the second floor. Large. Well furnished. Windows overlooking the city. And sitting in a leather chair by the fireplace was Yuri Federov.He looked exactly like his photo. Older now. Grey hair. Deep lines in his face. But his eyes were sharp. Alert. Dangerous.“Alexander Kane,” Federov said in accented English. “You look like your mother. Same eyes. Same stubborn expression.”“You look like a man who abandoned his daughter when she needed him most.”“Yes. I am that man. I do not deny it. Do not apologise for it. I made choices. Those choices had consequences. Rebecca paid the price.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”Michael remained standing. “I am not here to talk. I am here for the device. The kill switch. You give it to me. I leave. Simple.”“N

Michael stared at his phone. The message glowed in the darkness. Thirty-six hours. A stranger wanted information. Secrets. Things only he knew.What secrets could he possibly have that anyone would want? Marcus’s files were already released. The Kane empire was destroyed. Victoria was in prison. Dimitri was dead.What was left?He typed back. “What information do you want?”Three dots appeared. Someone typing. Then the message came through.“Marcus had a vault. Physical location. Hidden. Contains original documents. Evidence that was never digitised. Never released with the Kane Files. You know where it is. Your father told you before he died.”Michael’s blood went cold. That conversation. In prison. Three weeks before Marcus died from a heart attack.Marcus had grabbed his hand through the bars. Whispered something Michael thought was rambling—confusion from medication.“The place where you were happy. Where mother sang. Where light came through colored glass. That is where truth liv