2025-06-11 05:21:03
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Chapter 298: Fractures and Healings!
“Sam, wait!” Hailey’s voice called behind Samantha quickening in step. “Please, stop!”But Samantha didn’t slow. Not until Hailey’s hand closed around her wrist, yanking her gently but firmly to a stop near the end of the corridor.Samantha turned, her eyes glistening, her lips trembling between rage and heartbreak. “Let me go, Hailey!” she snapped, pulling weakly against her grip. “You don’t understand! I came all the way here to check on him — to make sure he was okay — and the first thing I see is that woman kissing him like I never existed!” Her voice cracked, raw and wounded. “It hurts, Hailey. God, it hurts.”Hailey’s expression softened, her own heart twisting at the sight of her friend breaking apart. “Samantha… I know. But listen to me,” she said gently, her fingers still holding tight to Samantha’s hand. “You can’t jump to conclusions, not right now. You saw what you saw, but you don’t know how it happened.”Samantha blinked through her tears, shaking her head. “I saw enou
Chapter 297: Echoes of the Old War!
“I came because the world’s shifting again,” Vaughan said, lowering himself into the armchair across from Copper’s whiskey table like he owned the place. “And you, old friend, are standing right in the center of the storm. The boy — Jackson Hart. The Flameborn. The Empire. The CIA’s shadow wars. You’ve built yourself a fine mess.”Mr. Copper’s hand hovered over his glass, fingers trembling slightly before he set it down. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Vaughan,” he said, voice low but steady. “And if you came here to gloat, you can leave the same way you came in.”Victor Vaughan chuckled — that deep, cynical sound that always made Copper’s skin crawl. “Oh, come now, Copper,” Vaughan said, crossing one leg over the other. “You and I both know why I’m here. It’s not about the boy. It’s about what lies beneath him — what you’ve both been protecting for far too long.”Copper’s jaw tightened. “You mean Primis.”The name dropped between them like a thunderclap. For a long second
Chapter 296: The Ghost in Copper’s House!
Jackson’s chest heaved as he dragged in air, cold and sharp like glass splinters cutting through his lungs. His sheets were drenched, clinging to him, the rhythm of his heart hammering like a drumbeat against the silence of the penthouse suite.Bella was beside him. Her hand found his shoulder, steady, grounding, the warmth of her touch chasing away the last shreds of the dream. Her eyes searched his face — wide, worried, glistening with the faint reflection of the city lights beyond the window.“Jackson,” she said again, her voice low, urgent. “What happened? You were shouting.”Jackson swallowed hard, his throat tight, dry. He rubbed a trembling hand over his face, trying to steady his breathing. “It was… a dream,” he muttered. “Or maybe something more than that. I don’t know.”Bella sat beside him on the bed, watching as he swung his legs over the side. His bare feet touched the cold marble floor, and he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, palms pressed against his forehead
Chapter 295: The Heart of Atlas!
The elevator’s hum had long faded, but its echo still lingered in the hollow quiet of Sky Tower’s upper floor. Jackson sat slumped on the edge of the long glass table, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed between his hands. The half-empty glass of whiskey on the counter caught the light from the city below, its golden hue trembling with every shallow breath he took.The air was heavy with silence — the kind that pressed down until it became unbearable.He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there. Minutes. Hours. The anger had burned out, leaving behind only the bitter aftertaste of regret and exhaustion. Copper’s words looped through his mind, sharper each time they replayed: You can’t play both sides forever.He clenched his fists. Maybe Copper was right. Maybe he had gone too far. But what other choice did he have?Just then, the elevator chimed softly behind him — that same sound that had marked Copper’s departure not too long ago. The doors slid open with a hiss, spilling
Chapter 294: Philip's Niece! Jackson's Cousin!
I’ve seen that look before,” Copper murmured, his eyes distant. “That fire in his eyes — the kind that doesn’t stop until it burns everything it touches. He thinks he’s saving the world, but I know how this story ends. I’ve seen it.”Whitaker’s jaw tightened. “Philip’s mistakes were his own. The boy doesn’t have to follow that path.”Copper looked up sharply, his voice rising with the weight of everything he’d been holding in. “Doesn’t have to? He already is! The power, the secrecy, the damn stubborn pride — it’s all the same. And now Trey’s back in the shadows, the CIA’s falling apart, and half the city’s talking about ghosts and gods while the boy I swore to protect walks straight into a war he doesn’t understand!”The outburst hung heavy in the air. Even the bartender, halfway to the back room, stopped for a second before quietly continuing on, leaving the two men in silence.Whitaker folded his hands on the table. “So why call me?”Copper’s shoulders sagged. For a long time, he di
Chapter 293: The Ghost of Copper’s Past!
The low murmur of conversation and the soft clinking of glasses filled the dimly lit bar. A faint jazz tune played in the background, its melancholy notes weaving through the air like smoke. Mr. Copper sat alone in a shadowed corner, his glass of whiskey untouched, condensation forming lazy trails down the side.He’d been there for hours, but time had long since stopped meaning anything.He stared blankly at the swirling amber liquid, his mind trapped somewhere between anger and grief. Jackson. The name itself burned like acid on his tongue. The boy he had raised, protected, and believed in — now walking the same dangerous path Philip once did.He couldn’t understand it. Not after everything.Copper tilted his head back, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey that burned its way down to his chest. He welcomed the pain. It was real. Unlike the blur of emotions clawing through him since he left the Sky Tower.He let out a bitter laugh, rough and hollow. “So, that’s how it ends,” he mutter
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