2024-12-16 21:27:08Third Point Of View
Logan made the wildest decision he never thought he would have—agreeing to get married to a girl he'd just met. After the phone call, they agreed to meet at a nearby coffee shop to sign the contract, but Logan couldn't wave off the feeling of unease seeping into skin.
His gaze lingered on Sophie who sat from across him, sipping her coffee elegantly. She placed the mug on the round table, tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ears and leaned closer, “Relax.” she chuckled, pulling out a brown envelope from her bag, “It's just a year; there's nothing to lose. And also, you'll be five million dollars richer. I'm doing you a favor here.”
Logan rolled his eyes, tapping his feets on the ground impatiently. With each second that passed by, it felt like a hundred years. Images of Mr Lee chained to that sick bed kept flashing through his mind, robbing him of his peace. He weaved his hands through his hair, taking a long, steady breath, “can we just get this over with? I have a whole lot of things to do.”
“I don't have all day as well.” Sophie commented, pushing the contract towards him, “read it and sign it. It's our agreement for a year.”
“I only agreed last night, but you got a contract ready in less than twenty four hours. You really mean business.” Logan's deep voice rang out, as he flipped through the pages of the contract. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk when he stumbled against a particular line. He cleared his throat, reading out the phrase, “there's no such thing as consummating the marriage. You're not allowed to touch me, kiss me, hold me. We can only hold hands during social gatherings.”
Sophie nodded slowly, her face blank, “Do you have any problem with that?”
“You must think too highly of yourself. “ Logan dropped the bomb, calmly placing the contract on the table, “do you think I want a replay of what happened the last time? If I could turn the hands of time, I wouldn't have allowed you to lure me into your trap.”
“You're saying you regret…me?” Sophie snickered, her voice rising softly, “I'm really in no mood to argue. Read through the rest and tell me what you think about it.”
Logan's eyes brushed through the entire contract, his lips curling up from time to time. After a while, he pulled out his pen and signed, “I’m satisfied with the rules.” He then leaned back and crossed his legs, “Now that I've fulfilled my part of the arrangement, can I get my money now?” It sounded a bit weird when he blurted out the words, but he was willing to do anything to save the old man.
Sophie signed the papers and smiled brightly, “I'll transfer three million dollars to you, but first, we need to get some matching rings.”
“Matching rings? Are we engaged?”
“It's just something to make my family members believe we're truly couples.” Sophie replied, wrapping her slender fingers around the mug. It felt warm against her touch, calming her tense muscles. With the contract signed, she had no idea what to expect from Logan, but she was relieved she wouldn't get married to Mr Thompson.
“And after the couple rings? Is there something else I should know? I'm kind of in a hurry.”
“Important names of my family members.” Sophie took another sip of her coffee, “Apart from that, we're done here.”
“Alright, hit me with everything I need to know.”
For the past one hour, Sophie told Logan about everything he needed to know about the Riven family. It was hard to process, but after memorizing the names over and over again, Logan finally got the hang of it. Immediately Sophie sent the money to his account, he dashed out of the coffee shop and made his way to the hospital.
Logan rushed in, his collarbones peeping from his unbuttoned shirt. He approached the first nurse he saw, trying his best to speak calmly, “I need to see the doctor. I want him to proceed with the surgery.”
The nurse gave him a long, unsettling gaze, “I'll go get him.”
While the nurse walked away, Logan paced to and fro, touching his scar, as multiple thoughts rushed through his head like a tornado. A familiar white silhouette moved from the corner of his eyes and he sighed, facing the doctor, “I have the money, you can start the surgery.”
The doctor smiled, a smile that reached his eye. He was quite impressed by the young man standing before him. He tucked his hands in his pocket, “We'll start the surgery right away. “ he gave Logan a curt nod before walking away.
Throughout the whole night, Logan paced in the hallway, patiently waiting for the good news of the successful surgery. Minutes passed by, hours now, but the doctor hadn't stepped out of the OR. He inhaled a shaky breath, his thoughts running wild, “what the hell is going on?!”
At the same time, a nurse rushed out, followed by the doctor as well. He'd spent over six hours in the operating room, so he looked slightly exhausted, his face pale from standing for hours. Without thinking, Logan rushed towards him, “How's Mr. Lee?”
Silence.
The doctor took a while before responding, and Logan's heart turned cold, “can you fucking answer me?”
The doctor's eyes lit up, “the surgery was successful!”
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Chapter 37
That night, Logan sat alone in his room. The box sat open on his desk. Papers, medals, dog tags. He held a photo of a young boy—himself—dressed in a sharp cadet uniform, standing beside a man in military gear and a woman in a white suit.His parents.He didn’t remember their faces... but something inside him stirred.The laptop screen glowed. The drive was decrypted. A terminal popped up, asking for a passphrase.He stared at the blinking cursor..Then, slowly, he typed:Cipher-Delta-29The screen accepted it.Dozens of folders unfurled across the desktop—videos, files, audio logs. As Logan clicked the first video, his own face filled the screen.A younger Malachi. Sharper. Deadlier.“Field Report #027: Malachi Volkov, Codename: Cipher. Operation: Hammerfall. If this log is recovered, and I’m dead, then the bastard finally won…”Logan leaned in.The man on the screen continued:“But if I’m still alive, if I ever see this again, that means I survived what they did to me. And if that’s
CHAPTER 36
'Third point of view'The apartment door creaked open slowly under Logan’s hand. The scent of sandalwood and old books hit his nose immediately—a familiar, almost comforting smell that now felt like a mask for the lies that had been buried here. The apartment was dimly lit, the afternoon sun filtered through dusty curtains. Mr. Lee sat alone at the small kitchen table, a cup of tea trembling in his hands.Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, Logan hadn’t really taken time to pay him a visit. He had always made excuses that his wife’s family had not really afforded him enough time to visit. But after what happened tonight, after the incidence with Mr. Steele and the shocking photograph of himself in military uniform he had suddenly had the time that he never seemed to have.The moment Logan walked in, Mr. Lee looked up, startled. "Logan?" He called, a hint of surprise and expectation in his voice.“No,” Logan said firmly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind
CHAPTER 35
The safe house was tucked between two abandoned warehouses on the edge of the city’s industrial district, surrounded by rusted fences and the scent of burnt oil. Max parked the car in the shadows, motioning Chloe to keep her head down as they approached the reinforced steel door. A series of coded knocks later, they were inside.The interior was dimly lit, sparse but secure—concrete walls, heavy locks, and a bank of monitors linked to external cameras. Chloe didn’t waste time. As soon as the door clicked shut, she dropped the journal onto the table and turned to Max.“Mr. Buma told me everything.”Max arched a brow as he shrugged off his coat. “Everything?”Chloe nodded. “Canon Forte wasn’t just a side project. It was the endgame. Biological and psychological manipulation, complete obedience. It was never about weapons or war—it was about control.”Max ran a hand through his hair. “That lines up with what I’ve been digging up. But there's more.”Chloe looked up sharply. “What more?”M
CHAPTER 34
The weight of the leather-bound journal in Chloe’s hands felt heavier than it should have. It wasn’t just paper and ink—it was history, secrets, and, most importantly, danger. She ran her fingers over the worn cover, her mind already racing with questions. The old man’s words still echoed in her ears."Because it’s already too late."Chloe swallowed hard and flipped through the pages. The journal was filled with names, dates, and locations, but her eyes were drawn to a single phrase repeated in different entries—Red Canon of the Canon Forte.She glanced up at Mr. Buma, who watched her with weary eyes. "Tell me what you know. What exactly was Canon Forte? Was it also part of the blood moon?"Mr. Buma sighed, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. "Canon forte was indeed an extension of Red Blood. A final phase. The real reason behind everything we did."Chloe frowned. "Final phase of what?"Mr. Buma hesitated. Then, he pulled a chair and sat down, gesturing for Chloe to do the same. "Ye
CHAPTER 33
The streets were quieter than usual as Chloe left the train station, the conversation with Max still replaying in her mind. The weight of the folder in her hands felt heavier than it should, as if the information inside carried something more than just words—something dangerous.Sliding into the back seat of her car, she barely acknowledged the driver, a middle-aged man with a thick beard and sharp eyes that flicked toward her in the rearview mirror. His silence was almost unsettling, but she didn’t care."Drive," she ordered, her voice clipped.The car rumbled to life, rolling away from the abandoned station. The shadows stretched long across the pavement, the streetlights flickering weakly as if struggling to stay alive.Then, her phone vibrated.She tensed, pulling it from her coat pocket. A blocked number.For a moment, she hesitated. Then, she answered.“Ms. Chloe,” a deep, raspy voice greeted her.She felt her pulse spike. That voice—it was familiar, yet distant, like an echo fr
CHAPTER 32
Across the sprawling city, in a dimly lit office that smelled of old paper and burnt coffee, Detective Max sat at his desk, absently tapping his fingers against the thin file marked “CONFIDENTIAL.” The ticking of the clock on the far wall was the only sound accompanying him in the late hour, a relentless reminder that time was slipping away.Three days.That was all the time Ms. Chloe had given him to find something—anything—on a man named Logan.Yet after hours of combing through databases, sifting through every Logan recorded in New York's system, Max was no closer to an answer than when he’d started. There were plenty of men with that name, but none matched the peculiar details Chloe had given him. Logan wasn’t just an ordinary man. He fought like a trained operative, moved like a shadow, and disappeared just as easily. That alone set him apart from the rest.Max rubbed his temples, pushing away the headache forming at the base of his skull. His once steaming cup of coffee sat cold
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