The Prague FlightThe farmhouse living room turned into a war room by sunrise. The coffee table was buried under maps, satellite printouts, and Lydia’s scribbled notes. Bella sat cross-legged on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, scrolling through Prague street views like she could spot the son through the screen. She hadn’t slept much, but her eyes were sharp, focused. Every few minutes she’d glance up at me, give a small nod, like she was saying we’ve got this.I stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, watching the team work. Marcus was on the phone with a contact in Europe, arranging private transport. Rico was packing gear in the dining room—rifles, suppressors, medical kit, extra ammo, and yes, a Tupperware of leftover flan he swore was “essential morale.” Nadia sat at the table with Lydia, pointing out weak points on the estate blueprint.“The main gate is guarded by two men,” Nadia said. “They rotate every four hours. The east wall has a blind spot—old i

Chapter 53: The Estate Gates. Prague’s old streets gave way to narrow country roads as we left the city behind. The van’s headlights cut through the dark, catching glimpses of frost on the fields and the occasional deer eyes flashing in the trees. Bella sat beside me in the back row, vest snug under her jacket, Glock holstered at her hip. She hadn’t said much since we left the airstrip. Just stared out the window, thumb tracing slow circles on her stomach like she was reassuring the baby—or herself—that we were still in control.Marcus drove. Rico rode shotgun, checking the map on his phone every few minutes. Nadia sat across from us, hood down now, face pale in the dashboard glow. Lydia was in the third row, laptop balanced on her knees, running final checks on the estate’s security grid.The radio crackled. Lydia’s voice filled the cabin.“Two kilometers out. Thermal still shows one signature in the northwest room. No change. No additional heat anywhere on the grounds. Gate’s unma

Three months had slipped by in a strange, fragile peace. The farmhouse had become our real home not just a hideout, but a place with routines, laughter, and the slow, steady rhythm of waiting for the baby. Bella’s bump was unmistakable now round and proud under loose sweaters. She moved slower some mornings, hand always resting on her stomach like she was in constant conversation with the little one inside. We’d settled on names Elena for a girl, Alexander for a boy and she’d started filling the nursery with soft blankets, tiny clothes, and the mobile of stars that spun gently above the crib.The empire ran itself mostly. Stock steady. Security division pulling contracts faster than we could staff them. Investors finally calm. Dragomir’s ghost had faded to whispers. Viktor Junior had vanished like smokeno trace,. Nadia’s sister Mara was in treatment, funded quietly from the frozen accounts. The team had scattered a little—Rico back to occasional jobs, Lydia working remote, Marcus sta

: The Vale Reckoning The boardroom air felt thick after Katherine walked out. No one spoke for a long beat. The eleven remaining members shifted in their chairs, folders open, eyes darting between me and the empty seat she’d left behind. Harold Grayson cleared his throat first—old-school loyalty, the kind that doesn’t bend easy. “Damian,” he said, voice gravelly, “we need to address this. The exploit is real. The backdoor is real. If it leaks.....” “It won’t leak,” I cut in. “Because we’re fixing it today. And we’re fixing the narrative. Katherine didn’t bring this to protect the company. She brought it to break it. To take it. She bought votes. She planted fear. She used a vulnerability that’s been in the system since before I took full control—and she waited until now to weaponize it.” I looked around the table. “Every one of you has seen the reports. The division is profitable. Contracts are up 22% quarter-over-quarter.

The Final Boardroom The boardroom lights were dimmed low, the way they always were for late-night emergency sessions. Only the glow from the wall screens and the city skyline outside kept the room from being completely dark. Twelve chairs. Eleven filled. Katherine Vale’s seat empty again. This time no one pretended it might be filled. I walked in at 11:47 p.m. Black suit. No tie. Marcus at my shoulder. Lydia with her tablet. Rico stayed downstairs—visible, quiet, waiting. The board members looked up when I entered. No standing. No greetings. Just tired eyes and tense shoulders. Harold Grayson spoke first. Voice rough from too much coffee and too little sleep. “Damian,” he said. “We’ve seen the logs. The second backdoor. The firmware trigger. Katherine’s name is all over it. Payments. Emails. Timestamps. She didn’t just know about the exploit. She built the second layer. She waited. She triggered it. She almost burned everything.” Elena Chen leaned forward. “The stock recovered