2025-06-20 06:29:22"Enough!" Rose snapped. "I’ll admit your medical skills are rare—maybe even once-in-a-century. But asking for NOVA4? Are you messing with us on purpose?"
She’d started to see Seth differently, but now it was clear—he was still the same arrogant, reckless guy who threw tantrums whenever things didn’t go his way.
"What, the almighty Tyrel family can’t handle it?" Seth shot back, clearly losing patience with her attitude.
"Do you even realize—"
"That’s enough." Bryan cut them off, his tone firm. "There might be a way. The Goldmaster Luncheon is tonight. It's only held once every five years."
"They’ll be auctioning all sorts of rare treasures," he continued. "If we’re lucky, NOVA4 might just show up."
Rose folded her arms. "Even if it does, we only have two invitations. How do we get him in?"
"You'll take Mr. Seth," Bryan said simply. "If there’s trouble, you’ll be there to help him."
Rose scoffed. "I’m the heir to the Tyrel family, and you want me to play assistant to him? That’s—"
"Why not?" Tyrel Sr. spoke up from the bed, voice steady. "Seth is talented, young, and carries himself with class. Honestly, I think he’s more than worthy of you."
"Grandpa!" Rose's voice rose in pitch, flustered and indignant.
"It’s settled," Bryan said, handing Seth one of the invitations with both hands. "Please, do what you can. If this works, I’ll make sure you’re handsomely rewarded—personally."
"No need to be so formal." Seth took the invite, expression unreadable. He turned toward Rose with a smirk. "I’ll be counting on your guidance, Miss Tyrel."
"Fake. Fraud." Rose’s fury finally boiled over. She couldn’t believe she was being treated like a bargaining chip. With a scoff, she spun on her heel and stormed out.
Bryan gave an awkward chuckle. "Apologies… Rose is a bit spoiled. Stubborn as hell too. I hope you won’t take it personally."
Seth offered a polite smile. “I’ve dealt with worse. Tea sounds great, by the way.”
***
Later that night, the city glowed under silver streetlights.
A sleek black car cut through the dark like a blade. Inside, silence reigned.
Seth leaned back, relaxed in a tailored blazer, all effortless charm and hidden swagger. Beside him, Rose looked like a sculpted ice queen flawless, cold, unreachable in her evening gown.
She didn’t look at him once.
“Nice night for an auction,” Seth offered, voice light. “You think the serum is really gonna show?”
No answer.
“Look, I know you’d rather be tied to a running horse than share a ride with me, but the silence is killing me.” He smirked.
That got her. She turned around with fire in her eyes.
“Do you even understand what’s at stake tonight?”
“High stakes bidding? Overpriced champagne? Socialites pretending to care?” Seth shrugged.
“My grandfather could still die!" She clenched her jaw. "If we fail tonight if the serum isn’t real or worse, it doesn’t exist then what?"
"Do I just smile and shake hands while he fades away in a hospital bed?"
"Just don’t screw this up, and I’ll be happy.”
“Noted,” he muttered, already turning away.
The car slowed, pulling up to the grand estate lit like a palace. Warm light spilled across the marble steps. Velvet ropes lined the walkway, photographers snapped.
Rose took a breath and stepped out first, every inch the Tyrel heiress.
Seth followed, but paused when he saw the slight shake in her hands.
“Try to relax,” he said softly. “You’re shaking.”
“You know, I hate people like you", She spun on him, voice tight "Trying to use every opportunity they get, to climb up the ladder".
"But you need to remember, we can give you everything—or fucking take it all away!"
"Now shut up and do what I've told you."
For the first time, he didn’t offer a joke. Before he could answer, someone called, “Miss Tyrel!”
Rose turned instantly, face breaking into a practiced social smile. “Charles! You made it.”
Seth watched her glide away, then glanced at the mansion.
He melted into the crowd like a shadow, snatching a glass of wine from a passing tray with the ease of a seasoned pickpocket.
The server barely blinked before he vanished.
The auction hall opened before him massive, opulent, drenched in silent tension and wealth. Seth rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles.
He didn’t care about the suits or whatever they had to sell, except maybe the serum.
He was the real puppet master tonight.
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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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