2025-11-26 15:39:55
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The Hand Inside the Flames
Dominic Vance didn’t like being ignored.He liked being obeyed.So when the monitors in his private control room flashed ALERT: STANFORD SITE PURGED, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth almost cracked.The room around him buzzed with panic, technicians typing frantically, screens flickering, AI nodes attempting to reconnect to the destroyed lab. But Dominic stood perfectly still, calm in a way that made everyone else even more terrified.A tall man in a gray suit approached him carefully. “Sir… the entire archive was wiped in less than eighteen seconds. Whoever did it knew your protocols.”Dominic’s eyes twitched. “Of course they did. It was Stanton’s system. And now his bastard son has access to what belongs to me.”He turned slowly, voice low and venomous. “Pull up every trace of Alex’s signature.”The nearest tech swallowed hard. “We’re trying, sir, but the purge scrambled”Dominic slammed his hand onto the console, causing the man to jump.“Try harder.”He was losing patience.He h
The Ghost in the Code
The drive from Boston to California felt endless.Highways blurred past in streaks of gray and gold as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. For the first time in days, Alex and Claire weren’t running, they were chasing.The rain had stopped somewhere around Chicago, but the air still felt heavy, like the calm before another storm. Alex drove in silence, the faint hum of the car engine filling the void. Claire sat beside him, laptop balanced on her knees, the glow of the screen painting her face blue in the dim light.“Any luck?” he asked, eyes fixed on the road.“Maybe,” she muttered. “Zephyr’s message wasn’t just a direction, it was an encrypted coordinate. I’ve been tracing it through old Stanton databases.”Alex shot her a glance. “And?”She hesitated. “The Stanford Archives your father used weren’t just academic. He built a private server beneath the engineering lab — off-record, unregistered. No one’s supposed to know it exists.”Alex frowned. “So how did Zephyr know?”Claire lean
Counter-strike
The storm hadn’t stopped by morning.Rain lashed against the windows of the safe house, a rented warehouse on the edge of the old industrial district. The place smelled of oil and metal, but it was off-grid, no cameras, no tracking signals.Alex hadn’t slept. He sat at a metal table littered with coffee cups, hard drives, and open notebooks, eyes fixed on the flickering screen of Claire’s laptop. Lines of code streamed down, tracing back through the remnants of Stanton’s old internal network.Claire walked in, hair damp, holding two mugs. “You look like you’ve been staring at that thing for hours.”“I have.” Alex’s voice was hoarse. “I keep thinking about what he said. Zephyr listens to me now.”She set the mug beside him. “You think Dominic’s bluffing?”“No,” Alex said quietly. “I think he’s already using it.”Claire took a sip of coffee, watching him. “Then we hit back first.”He looked up. “You have something?”She smirked, sitting down across from him. “Always. The good news? When
The Ghost of Zephyr
The drive north was quiet, tense, and wrapped in darkness.Highway lights cut across the windshield like flashes of memory, his father’s voice, the betrayal, the sudden inheritance. Everything that led him to this moment.Claire drove while Alex sat in the passenger seat, laptop open, eyes scanning the encrypted map coordinates again. “We’re close,” he murmured. “It should be right past the ridge.”“Stanton Research Facility,” Claire said softly. “Your father’s old playground.”Alex glanced out the window. The city lights had long vanished behind them, replaced by dense woods and endless black. The rain started again, thin and cold, whispering against the glass.They turned onto a narrow dirt road. The car jolted over broken asphalt until a faded sign came into view, half-buried in weeds:STAN— RESEARCH FACILITY. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.The rest of the letters had been burned away.Alex stepped out first, the wind biting at his face. “We’re here.”Claire joined him, flashlight in h
Project Zephyr
The next morning broke gray and heavy, like the city itself knew secrets were about to rise from the dark.Alex didn’t sleep. The anonymous call kept looping in his mind, each word sharper than the last: “Dig too deep and you’ll end up where he did.”He stared at the computer in his penthouse office, the file Claire had sent him flashing on screen. PROJECT ZEPHYR: CONFIDENTIAL.At exactly 7:00 a.m., Claire entered, holding two coffees and a laptop under her arm. Her hair was tied back today, all business, no warmth. “You’re up early,” she said.“Didn’t sleep,” Alex muttered, eyes locked on the file. “You said Zephyr was one of my father’s ghost projects. How deep does this go?”Claire sat beside him and opened her laptop. “Deeper than you think. I traced the money. Stanton Industries wasn’t the only one funding it. There’s another investor. Private. Hidden behind layers of offshore companies. My name shows up again and again, Dominic Vance.”Alex’s jaw tightened. “And who the hell is
The Shadows Behind the Throne
The morning sunlight barely pierced through the thick glass of Alex’s new office. It was a fortress in the sky, sleek black walls, panoramic city view, and a silence heavy enough to make any man feel powerful or paranoid. For Alex Stanton, it was both.He stood by the window, coffee in hand, staring down at the pulsing veins of New York. Cars zipped below like silver ants, unaware that empires could rise and crumble in the hands of a single man watching from above.He had won, for now.The board had voted in his favor the previous night, naming him Acting CEO of Stanton Industries. It was a title that carried both prestige and danger, power made you visible, and visibility painted targets on your back.Claire entered quietly, the soft click of her heels echoing against the marble floor. Her presence had become a constant, steady, graceful, sharp as glass.“Not bad for someone they once called a nobody,” she said, her lips curving into a half-smile as she placed a file on his desk.Ale
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