Chapter Two
“Oh, look who is here?”.... Mireille Morreau, Elara’s cousin said, her voice loud enough to draw attention to Eli who had just walked into Elara's birthday party which was being held at Genevieve Morreau — Elara’s grandmother’s house.
Eli, who was tired due to the distance it took from his house to this place, and the only available car had been used by Elara sighed to himself, wishing that everybody would ignore him and he could spend time with his wife
“Darling!!! – I know you said I should wait at home for you and how you wanted to surprise me, but grandma threw this party and she said if I didn’t show up on time, we were going to have issues, that’s why I left.” Elara, who had noticed the commotion, said as soon as she reached Eli’s side.
“Oh! – pleeease – you do not owe this man an explanation.” Lucien Morreau, …. Elara’s uncle and Selva’s younger brother said, coming to stand beside Elara.
Unfortunately for Eli, Lucien was about to make an announcement, and a mic was in his hand, so all the guests heard the cruel words he had said to him.
“Uncle, he is my husband, so I owe him every explanation.” Elara responded, her face masked with pain and sadness due to the ugly way Lucien had just spoken to Eli, but in her heart she was joyful and happy about the embarrassment Eli was currently facing.
She had been happy to marry Eli at first, had been in love and wanted nothing more to spend the rest of her life with him, she had known about his situation then, but somewhere deep in her heart, she had believed things would change and Eli would become rich, but with each passing month, and Eli didn’t seem to improve in his finances, and her family had started to look down on her, even her mom had done nothing to hide her disappointment in her choice, Elara had started to detest Eli, and the love she had for him started to fade.
She couldn’t divorce him though, she did not want people to see her as a gold digger and someone who only married for money, so she had continued to pretend as the sad, helpless wife whenever her family insulted Eli and hoped in her heart, that this would chase him away and she could continue to uphold her good perfect persona, and all the insult would go to Eli.
‘Poor husband leaves loving wife due to shame.’ That would bring so many rich suitors to her, who would treat her nicely and try to gain her favour, because they would all believe she was so in love with her husband and she was suffering from immense heartbreak, thereby making it hard to win her heart.
“It doesn’t matter Elara, Hope you are enjoying the party?” Eli asked, a sharp pain cutting through his chest as he looked at his wife’s sad face.
“How could I enjoy the party without you here? —- I was thinking of coming to find you if you had not shown up.” Elara responded, burying her head in Eli’s shoulders as disgust passed through her face.
Eli felt happy immediately and wrapped his arms tightly around Elara, giving her a peck on her forehead.
Genevieve Morreau, Elara’s grandmother watched with displeasure at this show of affection from the podium on which she stood, she had hoped to use this event to look for suitable suitors that were worthy of her granddaughter, but how was she going to be able to achieve that when Elara was putting on a public display with Eli, clearing her throat, she reached for the mic.
“Gift giving will now commence, I would love to invite Elara to join me on this podium.” Genevieve’s voice rang out – sending a smile to Elara's face, she had been wondering how long she was going to need to end this hug, and her grandmother’s voice felt like a saviour in her torment. Elara lifted her head slowly, masking her happiness with sadness as she peered into Eli’s sad eyes. “I have to go now, babe– I will be back soon.”
“I am very certain Eli is not deaf, and he clearly heard your grandma call for you, so I see no reason he should have a problem with that.” Luccien Morreau said angrily, his voice so loud that the ever gossipy guest could hear.
“Unclee!! – Please!!” Elara turned to face her uncle, her face filled with sadness.
“Don’t get worked up, love.” Eli said to his wife as he turned her towards him, planting a light peck on her forehead, making Elara close her eyes immediately, like a girl flustered from shyness due to a kiss like that from someone she loved, but in reality she had closed her eyes immediately to conceal the disgust that had passed through her eyes at the thought of this poor man’s lips on her skin.
“I would love to ask Mr Eli to stop from keeping our guest waiting and allow the beautiful lady I had called to walk up here.” Genevieve said from where she stood, spitting Eli’s name like a curse and poison on her tongue, making the guest whisper harsh words against Eli among themselves, some of their voices not so much as a whisper.
Genevieve smiled from where she was, happy that what she had said was producing the reaction she wanted. She wanted the guest here to see that she had no regard for Eli and didn’t consider him her son-in-law, so they could approach Elara without restraint and try to win her heart.
Elara was her most favoured granddaughter, and she had been extremely annoyed when she learned that she had agreed to marry Eli, Elara was beautiful and could get any man she wanted, so had been confused as to why she would settle for Eli, therefore she had made it her sole purpose to rectify Elara’s mistake, and get her to marry someone that was truly deserving of her granddaughter.
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One hundred and forty - four
The farther Eli moved from the atrium, the quieter the world became.It wasn't peaceful—not like he was expecting it to be. It was muffled, like the building itself was holding its breath.Emergency lights washed the corridors in dull amber, stretching shadows long and warped along the walls. The distant echoes of shouting and boots faded with every step, replaced by the low hum of systems still running as if nothing catastrophic had just happened.Eli didn’t reduce his pace.His shoes whispered against polished floors as he moved deeper, turning corners without thinking, muscle memory guiding him through spaces he hadn’t thought to check until now - thinking he still has time, that Selene was still going to have time to show him more places. He laughed at the thought, his heart hammering against his ribs, it wasn't from the run– that wasn't enough to make his heart hammer the way it was—but from everything he’d left behind.Victor.Aiden.Nova.“N—Nova,” he whisper-shouted, voice cra
One hundred and forty - three
For a heartbeat after the words Subject V3 left Carlos’s mouth, no one moved.Not the executives frozen mid-panic.Not the mercenaries with their fingers hovering too close to triggers.Not even Victor, whose expression had gone unnervingly still.Then the murmurs started as the execs looked from one person to another, wondering if this was something they needed to know while trying to grasp what was going on around them.Eli inhaled slowly.Then he straightened to his full height.Blood still traced a thin line from his nose, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. He took one deliberate step toward Carlos, then another—hands open, posture calm, eyes locked forward.Carlos’s smile flickered.“Don’t,” Carlos warned lightly, adjusting his stance. The gun snapped back up, steady, professional. “Real bullets, Eli. This isn’t one of your boardroom bluffs. Take another step and I won’t miss.”To prove the point, he pivoted smoothly and fired.Two shots.A mercenary to Victor’s left dropped wi
One hundred and forty - two
Eli didn’t respond to what Victor had said, neither did he pay attention to the spread across his face.He simply walked.Straight past him.The movement was deliberate—unhurried, dismissive in a way that carried more weight than shouting ever could. Eli’s shoulder brushed the edge of Victor’s coat as he passed, eyes already scanning beyond him, toward the far corridors that disappeared into emergency-lit shadows.Victor’s smile faltered.Then his hand shot out.He caught Eli’s arm, fingers tightening just enough to stop him.“Where do you think you’re going?” Victor asked, voice light but sharp underneath. He tilted his head, glancing around theatrically. “Walking away? In front of all these people?” His brows lifted. “That’s a little… cowardly, don’t you think?”A ripple of unease moved through the gathered execs and staff.Eli stopped.He turned slowly, looking down at Victor’s hand on his sleeve as though it were something mildly offensive.Then he scoffed.“Cowardly?” Eli said, i
One hundred and forty - one
Eli’s hand hovered inches from the handle.The corridor was silent in the way he had expected, reminding him of how secured buildings always were —engineered quiet, layered with systems humming just beneath perception. The reinforced door loomed in front of him, matte black, anonymous, as if it had never been meant to draw attention. Yet everything about it did.The blood trail had ended here.The shadow—he was certain he’d seen it—had shifted just inside, a flicker of movement that suggested breath, weight, intent.His communicator vibrated.Once.It was sharp and insistent. A contrast to the silence.Eli stilled completely.He lowered his gaze to the screen. The name glowed up at him in clean white text.Carlos.For a fraction of a second, Eli lifted his head, eyes flicking back to the door.The shadow was gone.No movement. No distortion in the light. Just emptiness behind reinforced steel, as though the room itself had swallowed whatever shadow he had seen.Eli didn’t relax.He ke
One hundred and Forty
For a long moment, nothing moved.The monitors glowed steady green. The hum beneath the floor had returned to its normal pitch, almost comforting, almost mundane after the panic of the past hour. Outside the core, technicians leaned back, rubbing their eyes, exchanging looks that teetered between relief and disbelief.“It’s… done,” someone murmured, almost too softly to carry.“Done,” echoed another.There was a cheer, tentative at first. Then another, louder. Laughter followed, quick and sharp—the kind of release that comes after being inches from disaster. Hands clapped on shoulders. Backslaps. Voices overlapped, fragments of congratulations carried across the room.Eli didn’t move.He stood at the center of the core, communicator in hand, gaze fixed somewhere between the console and the ceiling. The room erupted around him, and he remained still, silent, an island of control amidst the chaos.Carlos nudged someone, whispering, “She… she did it. Firestorm held. It’s over.”“Yes,” th
One hundred and thirty - nine
Firestorm Protocol didn’t sound like much when it activated.It didn’t trigger any alarms. No cinematic countdown. Just a sequence of confirmations sliding across the glass walls—authorization chains snapping shut, external links severed, entire regions of Aurelius infrastructure going dark in a disciplined, pre-planned collapse. A controlled burn.The room felt it anyway.Lights dipped, then stabilized. The low hum beneath the floor shifted pitch, deeper now, like the building itself had braced.Nova didn’t waste the moment.She moved.Her bag hit the central console first—unzipped in one smooth motion, contents spilling with deliberate precision. No flashy hardware. No oversized rigs. Just layered tools: a hardened tablet, two slim encrypted drives, a fiber tap, gloves she didn’t bother putting on yet.She pulled the tablet free and slid into the central chair like it had been waiting for her.“Okay,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “You bought me silence. Let’s use
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