2026-02-02 08:00:32The reply came at 2:17 a.m. Derick was awake. He hadn’t slept. Not because of racing thoughts—those were gone, but because sleep felt like surrender.
And he was done surrendering. The motel clock clicked softly as the email loaded.
Unknown Sender: ''You don’t sound desperate. That’s good. But understand this, once you step through, you don’t step back. Confirm if you accept.''
Derick stared at the screen. A knock echoed in the room next door. Laughter followed. Someone living loudly. Someone careless. He typed.
Derick Hale: Define “step through.”
The response came faster than expected. ''You disappear. Legally. Digitally. Socially. What replaces you is designed, not inherited.''
Derick leaned back in the chair. Designed. His phone buzzed. Maya again. He let it ring. It buzzed a second time, then stopped. A message followed.
Maya: Stop this silent treatment. It’s pathetic.
Derick didn’t reply. He switched the phone to airplane mode and slid it into the drawer. Then he typed again. ''What does it cost?''
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. ''Everything people can use against you. Name. History. Attachments. You don’t kill them, we make them irrelevant.''
Derick exhaled slowly. And you? he typed. ''What do you get?''
The answer took longer. ''Access. When the time comes.''
That was vague. Intentionally so. Derick smiled. ''Send the terms.''
The reply included an attachment. No logos. No letterhead. Just text. He opened it.
NON-DISCLOSURE OF EXISTENCE AGREEMENT
By proceeding, you acknowledge: Derick Hale will cease to exist in all functional systems. Any attempt to reclaim said identity will be considered a breach.
A replacement identity will be issued, contingent on compliance. Emotional liabilities are your responsibility. We do not protect you from yourself.
At the bottom, a single line blinked: Type ACCEPT to proceed.
Derick didn’t hesitate. He typed it. The screen went black. Then a new window opened. Upload current identification.
Derick pulled his wallet from his pocket. Driver’s license. Debit card. Photos tucked behind receipts. Proof of a life lived loudly enough to be remembered.
He fed them to the scanner one by one. Upload financial records. Done. Upload communication history.
He paused. Messages from Maya. Old jokes. Arguments. Voice notes. He selected all. Deleted.
Upload biometric confirmation. The webcam light flicked on. Derick stared into the lens.
''Do you understand that the person you were will no longer be reachable? Friends may look for you. Family may not recognize the absence immediately.''
Derick thought of his mother. Her unanswered calls. The way she always knew when something was wrong. He typed: Yes.
The screen froze for a second. Then: Final confirmation required. State your reason.
Derick’s fingers hovered over the keys. He didn’t write about betrayal. Or anger. Or Maya. He typed: To never be spoken to like I am disposable again.
The system processed. A loading bar crept forward. Then, Identity retired.
Derick sat back. Something in his chest loosened. Not relief. Release. His phone vibrated in the drawer. He ignored it. Another email arrived.
You will receive instructions at dawn.
Derick closed the laptop. Outside, rain started to fall. Soft at first. Then harder. He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling as water streaked down the window like erased lines.
Morning came quietly. No alarm. No urgency. Derick woke to the sound of a car door slamming outside. The room felt unfamiliar already, like it belonged to someone else.
His laptop chimed. New Message.
Good morning.
From this point forward, you answer to:
The text paused, as if savoring the moment.
ETHAN BLACK
Derick read it twice. Ethan. Black. No softness. No past. A knock sounded at the door. Derick stood instantly. Another knock. “Motel management,” a man called. “Routine check.”
Derick approached the door, cautious. “What kind of check?”
“Payment verification.”
Derick opened the door halfway. A man in a gray jacket stood there. Mid-forties. Calm eyes. No clipboard. “I paid last night,” Derick said.
“I know,” the man replied. “I’m not here for that.”
Derick’s muscles tightened. “Then what are you here for?”
The man smiled faintly. “To make sure you understand the rules.”
Derick studied him. “You’re not management.”
“No,” the man said. “I’m confirmation.”
Derick stepped back, allowing him inside. The man closed the door behind him. He didn’t sit. “You’re Ethan now,” the man said. “Say it.”
Derick didn’t respond. The man’s eyes sharpened. “Say it.”
“I’m Ethan,” Derick said.
“No,” the man corrected. “Derick says that. Ethan believes it.”
Derick met his gaze. “I’m Ethan Black.”
The man nodded. “Good.”
“What happens next?” Ethan asked.
“You learn,” the man said. “How people move. Where they lie. What they fear.”
“And Maya?” Ethan asked.
The man tilted his head. “She no longer has leverage over you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
The man smiled thinly. “Revenge isn’t immediate. It’s structural.”
Ethan absorbed that. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“You won’t need it,” the man replied. “But you can call me Jonas.”
Jonas walked to the window. Looked out at the street. “She’s calling lawyers,” Jonas said. “Friends. Anyone who’ll listen.”
“She always needed an audience,” Ethan replied.
Jonas turned. “And you?”
“I’m done performing.”
Jonas studied him. “Good answer.”
He pulled a small device from his pocket and placed it on the table. “A phone,” he said. “Encrypted. No history. No trace.”
Ethan picked it up. It felt heavier than it should. “You will receive tasks,” Jonas continued. “Small at first. Observation. Decisions.”
“And if I refuse?”
Jonas smiled. “Then Derick Hale resurfaces. Briefly.”
Ethan nodded. “Understood.”
Jonas moved toward the door. “One more thing,” Ethan said.
Jonas paused. “You said you don’t protect me from myself.”
“That’s correct.”
Ethan’s eyes were calm. “Good. I wouldn’t trust you if you did.”
Jonas smiled genuinely this time. “You’re adapting faster than most.”
He left. The door closed. Ethan stood alone. The name settled in his chestm not heavy, not light. Exact. The encrypted phone buzzed.
Unknown: Task One.
Ethan frowned. The phone buzzed again. ''You’ll learn more watching than acting.''
Ethan grabbed his jacket. Across town, Maya stood in the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. “He just vanished,” she said. “No calls. No messages. Nothing.”
Victor’s voice crackled through the speaker. “That works in your favor.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” Maya replied. “It feels… wrong.”
Caleb sat at the table, tapping his fingers. “Maybe he finally accepted it.”
Maya looked at him. “You think so?”
Caleb hesitated. “Yeah. Probably.”
Outside, a car idled across the street. Inside it, Ethan Black watched the house that used to be his. Lights on. Curtains open. Life continuing without him.
Maya laughed at something Victor said. Ethan didn’t react. He simply memorized the way she touched her glass when nervous. The way Caleb avoided eye contact.
The way comfort made people careless. The phone buzzed. Good, the message read. You’re paying attention.
Ethan’s reflection stared back at him in the windshield. Derick was gone. And the city, still unaware, had just met someone quieter.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 9 — WHEN GHOSTS BLEED
The engine growled as Ethan pushed the car past its comfort. Red lights blurred into streaks. The city bent around him, familiar roads turning sharp and narrow as he cut through traffic with ruthless precision.He didn’t use sirens. Didn’t need them. Fear cleared paths faster than authority ever could. Jonas’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Teams are five minutes out.”“Too long,” Ethan replied.“You’re not equipped for direct engagement.”Ethan turned hard onto Maya’s street. “I’m equipped for inevitability.”Silence followed. Jonas knew better than to argue now. Ethan parked three buildings down, engine still running.He stepped out, jacket unzipped, movements unhurried. Anyone watching would mistake him for another late-night passerby. That mistake would cost them.He crossed the street, eyes scanning reflections, windows, parked cars, puddles of old rain. The building loomed ahead, lights dark except for one apartment on the third floor. Maya’s.The front door was ajar. Eth
CHAPTER 8 — THE PRICE OF BEING HEARD
Lucas liked to talk when he felt safe. Ethan had learned that years ago, back when Lucas still borrowed money and promised repayment with dramatic sincerity.Now, safety looked different. It was confidence inflated by victory, by the belief that Derick Hale was dead and buried. That belief made men sloppy.The feed played silently on the wall. Lucas paced his apartment, phone pressed to his ear, drink in his other hand. His laughter was loud, careless.The kind that came from thinking the storm had passed. Jonas watched Ethan from the corner of his eye. “We can mute the audio if you want.”“No,” Ethan said.Jonas nodded to a technician. Sound filled the room. “…telling you, man, it’s clean,” Lucas said. “No body, no mess. Guy just cracked. Happens all the time.”Ethan’s jaw tightened, just a fraction. Jonas leaned closer. “You recognize the voice on the other end?”Ethan listened. The voice was distorted, filtered, but the cadence was sharp. Professional. Curious. “No,” Ethan said. “B
CHAPTER 7 — ECHOES PEOPLE CAN’T EXPLAIN
Ethan didn’t leave immediately. That was the first deviation. He stood just outside the building, under the wash of white security lights, letting the city’s night air cool his skin.The rooftop’s laughter still echoed faintly above him, distorted by glass and height. The phone vibrated.Unknown: You were instructed to exit.Ethan typed with one hand. ''I did. I just didn’t vanish.''A pause. ''Careful.''Ethan slipped the phone into his pocket and stepped into the street. He walked instead of driving. That was the second deviation.The city rewarded walkers with truths drivers missed, arguments spilling out of bars, quiet deals in shadows, the real rhythm beneath curated noise.Ethan moved with the crowd, head down, posture unremarkable. His reflection appeared in a shop window. Adrian Cole looked comfortable. That disturbed him.A familiar voice cut through the air behind him. “Hey.”Ethan didn’t turn. The voice came closer. “Adrian.”He stopped. Caleb stood a few feet away, jacket
CHAPTER 6 — A FACE THAT DOESN’T EXIST
The file arrived at 4:03 a.m. Ethan was still under the overpass, engine off, city noise muffled by concrete and distance. The encrypted phone vibrated once, no warning, no urgency.He opened it. Identity Packet — ACTIVEA face appeared first. Not his. Mid-thirties. Clean haircut. Forgettable in a way that felt intentional. The kind of face people remembered only after it left the room, and even then, vaguely.Name: Adrian ColeOccupation: Independent logistics consultantHistory: Plausible. Boring. Verified.Digital Footprint: Eight years. Clean.Social Access Level: ModerateFlags: NoneEthan scrolled. Bank accounts. Rental history. Travel stamps. A handful of photos at networking events. Smiling beside people who didn’t matter. “Adrian Cole,” Ethan murmured.The phone buzzed. Unknown: Say it.Ethan didn’t hesitate. “I’m Adrian Cole.”Good.Tonight, you’ll attend a gathering, Invitation already sent.Ethan frowned. To who?The reply came with a location pin. His old world. Maya’s wo
CHAPTER 5 — WHEN SHADOWS MOVE
The SUV stayed two car lengths behind him. Not close enough to be aggressive. Not far enough to be coincidence.Ethan merged smoothly into traffic, posture relaxed, hands steady on the wheel. Speed didn’t change. Breathing didn’t change. Panic was loud, and he had already buried loud things.The encrypted phone vibrated once. Unknown: Confirm tail.Ethan checked the rearview mirror casually, like any bored commuter. Headlights. Same grille. Same patience. Confirmed, he typed.Good. Don’t lose them.Ethan’s lips twitched. So this was the lesson. He turned left at the next light. The SUV followed. Right turn. Followed.Three blocks later, Ethan slowed just enough to let a taxi slide between them. The SUV adjusted instantly. Professional.The city stretched out around him, late-night Lagos energy still alive. Street vendors closing up. Music bleeding from open windows. Neon signs flickering like tired eyes.Ethan didn’t rush. He let the SUV believe it had control. The phone buzzed again.
CHAPTER 4 — WATCHING WITHOUT BEING SEEN
The house hadn’t changed. That was the first thing Ethan noticed. Same porch light flickering like it always had.Same wind chimes Maya insisted were “calming.” Same white curtains that never quite closed all the way. Comfort preserved. Like nothing had happened.Ethan sat in the parked car across the street, engine off, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. The encrypted phone lay face-up beside him, dark and silent. Observe. Do not engage.He watched Maya move through the living room, phone pressed to her ear, pacing in slow circles. “No, Victor, I don’t care how it looks,” she said, voice faint through the glass. “I want to know where he is.”She stopped pacing. Listened. Scoffed. “Don’t tell me to be patient. He doesn’t just disappear.”Ethan tilted his head slightly. She still believed she mattered enough to be chased. Caleb appeared from the hallway, rubbing his face.He took the phone from her hand.“Victor,” Caleb said, lowering his voice, “look… if he’s gone, isn’t that
You may also like
THE UNDERESTIMATED HEIR
Victor Amos Regannez71.7K viewsUnderrated Son-In-Law
Estherace107.6K viewsTRILLIONAIRE ON TOP
Sweet savage222.5K viewsRejected Billionaire
Drew Archeron133.4K viewsThe Son-in-law
Karven ash814 viewsHouse of Alister: The Hidden Heir
Jessica Sage531 viewsThe Absolute Son-in-law And The Ten Rings Of Power
Jericho Chase8.2K viewsKing of War's Dominance
Calendula9.2K views