2025-11-06 04:29:36The porcelain mask instantly broke in the middle. Alexander's eyes fell upon the crayon sketch that was affixed to the wall of the war chamber. A black ghost with two white slashes for eyes and a flowing cloak. Below: GHOST DADDY, written in shaky purple characters.
His knees gave way. The mask broke against the concrete floor of the deserted metro tube and fell from his fingers. Like ice, shards flew everywhere.
Tatiana grabbed his elbow. "Alex?"
He was mute. Tears formed a film behind the drawing. When he listened, Mira's little fingers had caught the tilt of his head and the curve of his scar.
Grayson knelt beside him, needle piercing skin where a bullet had brushed his bicep. "Take a breath, supervisor. Prioritize stitching above disintegration.
Alexander's tone sounded gravelly. "I was drawn to her."
"Yes." Grayson tied off the suture, bit the thread. "The child is talented." as well as memory.
Drone telemetry, flickering satellite feeds, and Benjamin's Senate gala live-streaming in a corner all contributed to the battle room's hum. With her legs crossed and her scarlet soles flashing, Victoria Langford leaned back against a steel table. She wore a black pantsuit cut sharp enough to draw blood, blonde hair tied in a bun that screamed boardroom predator.
"Emotional," she purred as she drank coffee from a broken mug. Benjamin's Senate seat and ten million dollars. I'll pay that for the girl's location.
With shards crunching beneath his boots, Alexander raced forward. "You believe you can put my daughter up for auction?"
Victoria remained unflinching. "I believe I can give birth to her before dawn. Your decision.
With a Glock at her side, Tatiana moved between them. "Where is she?"
"Be safe. For the time being. Victoria put down the mug. She belongs to Harrison Whitmore. Benjamin's son is a bastard. enjoys harsh play.
Grayson's needle hesitated. "Lucy Martin." The mole is her.
Alexander's head jerked in his direction. "Explain."
investigated her burner. Five minutes after we dropped Mira, a signal came in from the safehouse. Harrison's van pulled out at the same moment.
Tatiana's hold caused her knuckles to turn white. "I'm going to gut her."
Victoria grinned, slow. "First, ladies."
With his boots crushing porcelain dust, Alexander paced. We've had Lucy since Blackridge. Fed Benjamin's first-day intelligence
"Day 3," Victoria clarified. "I set her up. policy of insurance.
Grayson squinted his eyes. "You were on both sides?"
“Always.” She slid a flash disk across the table. "Coordinates." Anacostia Safehouse. Mira is being held by Harrison until Benjamin transfers the trust fund. She becomes collateral after that.
The drive was grabbed by Tatiana. "Why assist us?"
"Because I was promised a Senate seat by Benjamin." tried to pay in lead after that. Victoria's collarbone had a slight bruise that she touched. "Being cheated bothers me."
Alexander's pace ceased. When Benjamin is in a cell, you are given the seat. Not earlier.
Velvet over steel was Victoria's laugh. "Agree. However, the 10 million dollars cannot be negotiated.
Over his stitch, Grayson taped a gauze pad. At 0400, we struck the safehouse. Drone cover, breach and clear, flashbangs
Tatiana racked the slide and loaded a magazine. "I want Lucy to live." She talks, then she bleeds.”
Picking up a piece of the mask, Alexander rotated it in his hands. "This is what Mira drew before she ever saw me."
Softly, Tatiana remarked, "She heard stories." From the nanny. from me, when I believed she had fallen asleep.
Victoria shoved the table away. "The clock is ticking. Harrison’s twitchy. like trying out the products.
The shard wounded Alexander's palm as his fist clinched. Blood pooled and trickled onto the illustration. "He dies slowly after touching her."
Grayson gave him a brand-new mask, it was matte black and not made of porcelain. Phantom 2.0. Let's get going.
Alexander was drawn into the shadows next to the servers by Tatiana, who grabbed him by the wrist. With an eager taste of coffee and gun oil, her mouth met his. His palms were flat against the soft curve of her back as he slipped them under her jacket. She pressed closer, teeth scraping his lower lip.
"Return to me," she muttered.
“Always.”
Victoria cleared her throat. "Avoid foreplay. We need to save a child.
Alexander pushed away, mask sliding over his face. “Gear up.”
They moved quickly (rifles, vests, communications checks). Victoria was given a drone controller by Grayson. "You are an Overwatch pilot. Make money.
She grinned. "Avoid shooting me if I save your asses."
Tatiana put the crayon sketch inside her sweater and kissed it. "For good fortune."
Boots resounding, Alexander led them up the stairs of the tunnel. Above, the city waited, hungry and black.
He had a buzzing burner. Unknown figure. He read the text.
Lucy: Keep the package safe. Forward the bonus.
In his hands, the screen cracked.
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Chapter 190: Sealed Breath
In the sudden silence, the seed's pulse sounded like a silent thunderclap. It wasn’t a threat. It was true. There was a period at the end of a sentence, but it had rolled under the desk and was just waiting to be picked up. They didn’t speak. They merely stared at the little, black glimmer on the white sand. It was beneath the slide, or where the slide had been, but it was now only a metal curve protruding from the dune that had been washed by the sand. “We could leave it,” Alexander remarked, his voice scratchy. He wrapped a protecting arm around Mira, who was quiet, watching the seed with a child’s somber interest. “Bury it deeper. Forget it’s here.” “It would grow,” Tatiana responded, her own voice weary beyond measure. "In the dark." without anyone to observe it. What kind of story blooms in the dark, alone?” She thought about Benjamin, nurturing his hatred in seclusion. "A perverse one." A spiteful one. Thus, we demolish it. Right now. He took a step toward it, his foot sinki
Chapter 189: Death Fruit
The playground was eerily quiet. There was no longer any wind. The distant sounds of the suburb were gone. On the wood chips, it was just the three of them: Tatiana on her knees, a sobbing seven-year-old Mira clutching to her, and Alexander Harrington's elderly, breathless husk with a jar of his final sigh sitting on his ribcage. The floating orchard was gone. The sky was a neutral, flat blue. The golden swing lay neglected, its chains now dull and inactive. All that existed was this finale. CHAPTER 400. Tatiana stared at the jar. The label was final. Absolute. This was not feasible. It was a receipt. For all the struggles, loops, and love that had unavoidably brought us to this point. To a playground where her spouse died of old age in minutes, his life-force robbed to pay the mortgage of 215 destroyed tragedies. Mira’s small hands clutched her mother’s arm. “Is Daddy sleeping?” The innocent question was a knife. Tatiana said in a cracked voice, "No, sweetheart." “He’s… gone.” I
Chapter 188: Sky Swing
The fruit was a gut-punch of recollection made tangible. Tatiana could hear the ghost of her own cry, feel the slick heat of Alexander's blood through her clothes, and smell the cordite and champagne from the gala. Trapped in that sphere of smoked glass, it was all there, a museum display of her biggest failure. To reach Mira, she would have to fly past it. Its proximity seemed toxic, a psychological radiation that threatened to suck her back into that moment, to make her feel the death that had defined so much of their war. Mira swung, heedless in her enchanted sleep, a trapped princess in a floating necropolis of horrible endings. This is his creation, Tatiana realized, hovering, her twilight wings beating the thin air. In order to trap her among the ruins, he enticed her up here. To remind me of the cost of every victory. Benjamin weaponized their own past since he was no longer able to prevail in a straight fight. She gazed from the Death Fruit to her daughter. A choice. Confr
Chapter 187: Swing Altar
The sight of their daughter, ankle-locked to a golden swing and soaring into the heavens with a puppet’s laugh, broke something in Alexander. The cool, strategic half of him was destroyed, leaving only raw, paternal terror. He yelled, "MIRA!" and lunged for the swing set. However, the swing was no longer fixed to the playground's typical A-frame. The cables stretched skyward, unimaginably long, vanishing into the cloud layer. The actual machinery was someplace in the heavens; the set was really a stand-in. Harrison-13 stood back, his hands in his pockets, gazing with a peaceful, inquisitive look, as if seeing an interesting science experiment. He was no longer the shy boy next door. He served a purpose. A plot device. Tatiana didn’t spend breath on shouts. She stared down at her own body, at the ripped bridal robe. She focused on the region between her shoulder blades, where the storm-cloud wings had erupted. They were gone, but the canal was burnt open. The phantom agony served a
Chapter 186: Priest Smile
The word “granddaughter” hung in the fragrant air of the false cathedral, a spider’s thread of possession. Benjamin’s smile returned, thinner now, harsher. The rebellious bride, Tatiana, was not in his line of sight. His sights were on the prize, the heir. Standing motionless in her maid of honor's gown on Mira-20. Benjamin reiterated, his voice a calming, toxic tune, "The story must go on." We transplant to another branch if one fails to produce fruit. The tree is alive. The orchard endures.” He extended a hand toward Mira. “Come, child. Take your mother’s place at the altar. Accept your legacy. After all, you have a birthright to it. Mira remained still. Her eyes were wide, fixated on Tatiana. She was the seventy-year-old female who had nibbled the apple from Chapter 1. She was aware of the price of legacy. Alexander discovered his voice, a rough rasp of sound. “You don’t touch her.” Benjamin’s gaze flicked to him, amused. “Or what, Alexander? Will you use your naked hands to de
Chapter 185: Gold Wedding
It was triggered by the taste. A circuit was finished when a synapse fired. The rented ranch house, the stormy backyard, the chain-link fence, all of it melted like a watercolor painting in the rain. The sensations from the fruit became reality. The aroma of myrrh and orange flowers permeated the thick, fragrant air of a large, packed room. The sensation of silk became the heavy, structured weight of a wedding gown on her torso. The organ's sound gave way to the grand, soaring sounds of Wagner's "Bridal Chorus." Tatiana blinked. In a vast, gothic church, she stood at the end of a long, red-carpeted aisle. Stained glass windows portraying not saints, but elaborate, abstract patterns of thorns and roses, reflect colored light on the stone floor. Hundreds of guests sat in pews, their faces a jumble of happiness and sorrow. All were dressed in impeccable, formal clothing. She was clutching a bouquet of white roses and black calla lilies. She looked to her left. Alexander stood there
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