2025-06-19 22:24:45Seth drove his car through the city as fast as he could without causing a stir.
Although he told Lucas to get him a simple car, Lucas tended to overdo things sometimes.
His car could literally buy a small island.
Seth smoothly parked in a corner, he quickly came down from the car and walked into the mansion in the middle of the estate.
Although Seth preferred to dress simple and most times casual, he definitely felt out of place.
Everyone else he could spot either wore the most expensive clothes that money could buy or ceaselessly flaunted their wealth.
He scanned the room for someone who could point him toward the bride. His eyes landed on a short, wizened old man with a scraggly beard that almost reached his chest.
Mr. Kane Fidel, the housekeeper.
"I greet you, sir," Seth bowed slightly to the man.
Mr. Fidel scowled. "Who let this beggar in here?" He jabbed his cane towards Seth, who turned to find no one behind him.
"Are you referring to me, sir?" Seth asked, bewildered. He hadn't expected to be mistaken for a beggar. A servant, maybe, but a beggar?
'Perhaps I should take Lucas's fashion advice more seriously,' he sighed inwardly.
"Relax, buddy. I'm just here to wish Emily a happy marriage and well drop by—"
“Cut the act!” Kane snapped, his voice shrill. “I know who you are—Emily’s ex-fiancé. A useless loser!”
“You’re just scared no one will bankroll your sorry life once she’s married, so you showed up to make trouble, didn’t you?”
Seth’s eye twitched. He kept a low profile, but somehow that had turned into rumors about him being some gold-digging stripper.
Honestly, it was so absurd it was almost funny.
“Well,” Seth drawled, raising both hands in mock surrender, “looks like we’ve got ourselves a little misunderstanding. I swear, I didn’t come here to cling to Emily.”
“I’m just here to drop off a few… essentials. You do know about Emily’s condition, right?”
"Enough lies! We all know you're still bitter after the engagement was called off. We know what you want. Once you're alone with Miss Emily, you'll demand more money, won't you? Once a beggar, always a beggar!" Mr. Fidel roared.
A choir of laughter broke out as everyone laughed and pointed fingers at Seth.
The guards, hearing the ruckus, ran over to his direction.
But it was at that moment when the bride suddenly came down the stairs.
"What's all this commotion?" Emily called out, radiant in her wedding dress.
Gasps filled the room as she glided through the crowd, heads bowing in respect.
Even the man who stood by her side, her groom, didn't seem to match the aura which she possessed.
"Forgive me, miss! This filth crashed your wedding! He'll be removed immediately!" Mr. Fidel bowed to Emily.
Emily's gaze landed on Seth, and a smile touched her lips. "Seth?" She giggled.
Seth rolled his eyes before fixing on a benign smile. "Emily, long time no see." He waved casually.
"Repulsive!" Mr. Fidel sputtered.
"Calm yourself, Mr. Fidel," Emily said sharply, silencing him. She smirked at the man, her eyes roving over his tall frame.
"What brings you here? Upset about our broken engagement?" She smiled knowingly.
"No, no, no, not at all." Seth shook his head.
"I actually prefer it this way. Marriages are such a burden, don't you think?"
He grinned back, all teeth. He meant every word that he said.
But that didn't please Emily.
Her face twisted, going red with rage.
"Bastard!" She spat. "You're only here for a settlement, aren't you? I should never have associated with someone so poor!"
“I’m here on behalf of my mentor—to deliver some medicine,” Seth sighed. Maybe it was time he stopped flying under the radar.
“And I know this might be hard to believe, but I’m not exactly hurting for cash.”
Seth's fingers dove into his pocket, emerging with a small bottle.
"Here, the medicine you begged for." He extended his hand, offering the promised salvation.
All eyes locked onto it, and a single, burning question seemed to rise in unison—what hidden illness was Emily, the newlywed bride of a wealthy family, trying so hard to conceal? Did William know? And if he did… would he still want her?
The guests exchanged sly smirks, their gazes dripping with mockery as they looked the couple up and down.
Emily went ballistic—did he just imply she was crazy? At her own damn engagement party, in front of half the city’s elite? The bastard must be out of his fucking mind.
Emily's hand lashed out, a swift, brutal strike that sent the bottle flying. It spun through the air, landing on the hard floor with a jarring clatter, miraculously unbroken.
"Don't flatter yourself!"
"I Never asked anything from you, ever. How dare you twist the truth and accuse me?" she spat, her eyes blazing with venomous fury.
Something in Seth snapped. The playful mask shattered, replaced by a chilling coldness that radiated from his eyes.
"I offered you a lifeline, Emily," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"And you've rejected it with both hands. You've chosen death."
"Life and death are guided by destiny, and so shall your life be!"
He raised his voice, the words ringing with a chilling finality.
Emily’s eyes burned red with rage, "You son of bitch! Who the fuck gave you the guts to—"
"I did!"
A commanding female voice rang out from behind.
Emily turned around with an annoyed flick of her head, ready to snap at whoever dared to interrupt her mid-sentence—
Only to see Rose, dressed in a striking red gown, striding toward them with a stormy expression.
She wasn’t just walking—she was radiating fury, like a queen descending to deliver judgment.
Who the hell had the nerve to piss off the Tyrel family heiress?
Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard, guilt creeping in.
But the surrounding guests clearly misunderstood the scene.
"Wow, Emily really landed a great man—Miss Rose herself came to celebrate their engagement!"
"Right? With William by her side, Emily’s family is about to rise to the top!"
"And if Miss Rose is here to offer her blessings personally, that says everything!"
Emily’s eyes lit up at once. That’s it! That must be it—
Rose was here on William’s invite— to congratulate her!
She quickly ran forward, ignoring Seth.
"Ms. Tyrel!” She called, breathless, coming to stop in front of the woman and clasping her hands neatly even as they trembled.
“I greet you and thank you for gracing the House of Fidel with your presence," Emily bowed her head as respectfully as she could.
After all, Rose stood before her, the family with the most influence in this region.
But Rose Tyrel ignored Emily and all the others that had bowed to show her respect, walking past her like she wasn't even there and headed towards Seth.
"Why have you been ignoring me? Why aren't you answering my calls from your ear ring?" Rose demanded, clearly annoyed.
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Chapter 206: Structural Weakness.
Alex's POV Alex returned to the executive layers the way a ghost returns to a house that’s been renovated in his absence, the shape is familiar, the corridors still curve the same way, the access points still breathe open when he approaches, but the furniture has moved and the air smells like other people’s decisions.He had not been here since before the war ended.Not truly.Back then the place had been frantic, reactive, command rooms blooming like infections across the administrative floors, people running on caffeine and threat projections, emergency authority being stamped onto anything that could carry ink, now it was different, quieter, smoother, the panic had fossilized into protocol, every hallway padded with procedure, every door protected by three layers of justification before you ever reached a lock.This was where wars went when they were finished.Not to peace.To paperwork.Alex didn’t go to his old office.He went lower.To the infrastructural decks, where budgets w
Chapter 205: What Noel Sees.
Noel's POV Noel had followed convoys before.Government ones with polished armor and predictable escorts, corporate ones wrapped in false branding and private security, underground ones that pretended to be waste management while hauling sealed lives in reinforced containers, he knew the rhythms, the feints, the habits of men who believed movement itself was secrecy.This convoy was different, they had no insignia, no visible escort, no routes that made sense.Three vehicles, matte gray, unmarked, not armored enough to be military, not civilian enough to be ignored, they left a distribution depot that had been condemned eight years ago, one of those urban corpses that cities keep around because tearing them down costs more than pretending they’re dead, the depot sat at the edge of a reclaimed district where glass towers rose out of what used to be tenements, where parks were layered over old slums like green apologies.Noel had been tracking a minor evolved intake lead when the movem
Chapter 204: The Aide’s Office.
Seth's POVThe summons did not arrive through command channels.It did not pass through Alex, it did not appear on his operational board, it did not carry the formatting of military priority or executive urgency, it came quietly, threaded into a system notification that had nothing to do with meetings, a maintenance acknowledgment, a routine authorization update, a single embedded line that didn’t blink or escalate or demand attention, it simply stated that the President’s aide would see him at sixteen hundred, location attached, attendance expected.Seth read it once, then again, then closed the display without responding, already feeling the shift it created in the air around him, the faint sense that something had stepped closer without moving, he had ended a war, dismantled a revolutionary army, been elevated to a position most people never even saw from the outside, and yet this message carried mor
Chapter 203: The Weight of Old Men.
Seth's POVThe decision to go to General Cane did not arrive like inspiration, it arrived like pressure, subtle, constant, the kind that did not hurt at first but slowly reshaped whatever it rested against, Seth had spent the night after the confrontation with Virek pacing rooms that were designed to keep people seated, reviewing structures that were meant to be trusted, watching feeds that only showed what they were allowed to show, and through all of it ran the same awareness, power without anchoring corrodes into spectacle, momentum without counterweight becomes noise, and if he intended to take a country apart without letting it collapse inward, he would need someone who had already watched empires pretend they were permanent.Cane was not part of the new machine.That was exactly why he mattered.Arranging the meeting required layers of misdirection that would have once amused Seth, logist
Chapter 202: White Rooms and Quiet Wars.
Seth's POVThe room Seth chose was not underground.That mattered.Most of the spaces he used now were buried beneath layers of reinforced earth and dead signal zones, rooms designed for secrecy, for containment, for things that were not meant to be found again, but after leaving Virek, after feeling steel fade back into skin and the echo of that man’s pulse still lingering in his palm, Seth did not want another bunker, he wanted height, glass, distance from the illusion that depth meant safety.The conference room sat near the top of a private government tower, not one of the public ones, not the kind tourists took pictures of, but one built for people who preferred the city to look small, its walls wide and curved, windows stretching from floor to ceiling, sunlight pouring in without asking permission.He stood near the glass when the summons went out.
Chapter 201: Two Architects.
Seth's POV The invitation arrived disguised as protocol.Not marked urgent, not flagged hostile, not even routed through any of the newly militarized channels that had begun shadowing Seth’s movements over the past weeks, it came the way institutional traps always came, polite, reasonable, wearing the language of necessity instead of threat, a request for strategic consultation from a senior oversight director whose name carried just enough historical weight to make refusal noticeable.Virek.Seth read it once, then again, not because he needed clarity, but because he wanted to appreciate the audacity, the assumption still threaded through the phrasing that this was a conversation between administrators, not adversaries, that the world was still made of offices instead of fault lines.He accepted without modification.The room they gave him was not a briefing chamber, not a council hall, not one of the sealed operational theaters buried beneath the capital, it was smaller, circular,
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