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Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 138
138Dylan stormed through the dark alley, the cold night air doing little to soothe the boiling fury churning inside him. The world felt wrong, like everything was shifting beneath him. Betrayal hung in the air, suffocating him. His phone, clutched tightly in his hand, seemed almost like a lifeline, a tether to whatever thread of control he still had left.His thumb swiped across the screen, and he dialed Martin’s number without hesitation. He needed answers. His pulse pounded in his ears, and his chest tightened as the phone rang. Once. Twice. A third time.Then finally, the call connected, and Dylan’s blood ran cold at the sound of Martin’s voice.“Yeah?” Martin answered, a slight edge to his voice, but nothing that hinted at the urgency in Dylan’s heart.Dylan’s grip on the phone tightened to the point of pain, his knuckles white. “You better have a damn good explanation, Martin.”There was a brief silence on the other end. Dylan could hear the faint sound of shuffling—like Martin
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 139
139Grenville’s VengeanceDylan stood motionless for a moment, staring at the darkened screen of his phone. His heart pounded against his ribs, and his breath came slow and controlled, but his thoughts were anything but calm.Martin’s words echoed in his head.“This is bigger than you think.”Damn it.Dylan was no fool. He knew Martin better than most—knew his tells, his habits, the subtle shifts in his voice when he was hiding something. And Martin was definitely hiding something. Whether it was out of fear or something else entirely, Dylan didn’t know.But he’d find out.Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he scanned the alley for any sign of movement. The city hummed around him—distant sirens wailing, the occasional flicker of headlights illuminating the wet pavement. Shadows stretched along the brick walls, making the air feel heavier, charged with tension.His instincts screamed at him.Something was wrong.If Martin hadn’t betrayed him, then someone else had. And whoever it
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 140
140: The Waiting TrapThe night air clung to Dylan like a second skin as he approached the massive estate. The towering iron gates loomed before him, their intricate designs casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Beyond them, the house stood still. Silent. Too silent.Something was wrong.No guards. No movement. Not even the flicker of a light inside. This was not the setup Dylan had anticipated. He’d been expecting a fight—gunmen, guards, or at least a few hidden cameras—but all he got was silence. A silence so thick, it felt like it was pressing down on him, suffocating him with the weight of something sinister.Ezra’s warning echoed in his mind.“She’s waiting for you, Grenville. Don’t be an idiot—it’s a trap.”Dylan had known that before Ezra even said it. Seraphina was many things—vindictive, calculating, ruthless—but careless wasn’t one of them. And leaving her home unguarded? That wasn’t just careless.It was an invitation.A taunt.He sighed, rolling his shoulders, loosening
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 141
141Dylan stood in the middle of the courtyard, a smug grin on his face, as the twenty men surrounding him slowly closed in. The air was thick with tension, the kind that promised violence. But Dylan didn’t seem phased. He straightened his cuffs, smoothed the sleeves of his shirt, and took a slow, deliberate glance at each of them.“Gentlemen,” he drawled, his voice laced with sarcasm, “are we really doing this?”One of the brutes, a towering figure with a scar running down his face, stepped forward. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white from the grip. “You’re dead, pretty boy,” he growled, his voice full of venom.Dylan didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look impressed. “Dead?” He raised an eyebrow. “I must be doing something wrong, then. Because I’m still very much alive.”The brute’s face contorted with rage, his lips curling into a snarl. “You won’t be for long.”Dylan shrugged, unfazed. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” His tone was bored, as if he were having a conversation wit
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 142
142Two men came at him with knives, their eyes narrowing as they rushed forward, blades gleaming under the dim courtyard lights. Dylan didn’t flinch. His posture remained relaxed, almost too calm for someone in the middle of a fight. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.“Really? Knives?” he asked, almost bored. “Is this supposed to be intimidating?”The two attackers exchanged a quick glance, confusion flickering in their eyes. They clearly underestimated him.With the fluidity of a dancer, Dylan sidestepped the first man’s thrust, his movements smooth and precise. His foot swept low, taking the man’s feet out from under him. The man crashed to the ground, the knife clattering uselessly across the floor. Dylan stood over him, hands in his pockets, completely unfazed.“Oh, that had to hurt,” Dylan remarked, eyeing the man’s twisted leg with mock sympathy. “Should’ve stretched before this. But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll walk it off.”The second man lunged at him, but Dy
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 143
143The remaining three attackers were now visibly shaken, their movements hesitant as they exchanged worried glances. The biggest of them all—a broad-shouldered man with a scar down his cheek—stepped forward, glaring at Dylan with a mix of hatred and disbelief.“You’re not getting out of here alive,” the scarred man growled, his voice low and threatening.Dylan tilted his head, his smirk never faltering. “I beg to differ.”Without warning, one of the men bolted, clearly hoping to escape and warn Seraphina. But Dylan was faster. His reflexes were lightning-quick, and with a sharp motion, he reached for a knife at his belt, throwing it with deadly accuracy. The blade buried itself deep into the man’s shoulder. He screamed in pain, the sound echoing through the courtyard, and collapsed to the ground.Dylan turned his attention to the remaining three men, who now looked more like cornered animals than warriors. They were hesitating, clearly unsure of what to do next. The blood in their v
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 144
144Once inside, the atmosphere shifted. The heavy scent of floral perfume mixed with the subtle but unmistakable sting of cold steel. Dylan, still trying to shake off the effects of the blow to his head, was dragged across the polished marble floor by two men who seemed to take particular pleasure in his disorientation. His limbs were sluggish, his mind still clouded by the intense pain that rattled through his skull. But as the world around him began to clear, he could make out the shadows of high-backed chairs, gilded furniture, and velvet curtains that blocked out the moonlight, casting an eerie darkness on the grand room.They stopped before the center of the room, and Dylan could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on him. His pulse quickened. That feeling… her. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, too distinct, too sharp to be mistaken for anything else.“Seraphina…” Dylan muttered under his breath, his voice a mixture of irritation and disdain. His body still felt uncoo
Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 145
145 As Seraphina turned back to face him, her eyes glinting with something darker, he couldn’t help but let a smirk play at the corners of his lips. “You know, I’ve never liked the way you think you control everything, Seraphina. It’s one of the things that makes you so… predictable.” Her lips parted as though to speak, but Dylan cut her off, stepping forward with a sudden, fluid motion. He was fast, faster than any of them anticipated. He darted forward, just as one of the men tried to move to intercept him. The man was knocked aside with a single swift punch, landing hard against the marble floor. The other rushed at Dylan, but his opponent’s hesitation was all it took. Dylan ducked, then twisted the man’s arm behind his back before pushing him toward the far wall, knocking him out cold. For the first time, Seraphina’s gaze flickered, a hint of doubt creeping into her expression. “You’re still trying to fight me?” she asked, almost incredulously. Dylan, breathing heavily bu
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221: The Future in Flame “I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t.” Dylan nodded. “Then let’s burn the world down.” He typed the command. A loading bar began to climb. Lilith stepped up beside him and pulled a drive from her coat—sleek, unlabeled, humming softly. “My code’s on here,” she said. “It’ll mimic the framework of Ignis Core perfectly. I’ve even embedded some of your old code from before you joined Ash. They’ll think it’s legit. Familiar. But once it activates… recursive detonation.” She handed it to him. He plugged it in. The system blinked. Code spilled across the screen—lines upon lines of luminous, perfect deception. Lilith crossed her arms as she watched. “We’ve got one shot at this.” Dylan didn’t look away from the screen. “Then we make it count.” The lights dimmed for a moment as the system initiated a shadow crawl—spreading the false Ignis Core like a virus in slow motion. Unseen. Waiting. When it was done, Dylan stood back, eyes cold. “Now we wait for them
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220 Another pause. Then the faint sound of typing. “You want a paper trail?” “I want everything. Timeline?” “Standard turnaround is three days—” “Yesterday,” she cut in coldly. “I want to know everything.” The line stayed quiet for another beat, then the voice softened just a little. “Got it. I’ll be in touch.” Jane hung up before he could say anything else. She stood still for a moment, the city buzzing around her, oblivious. The ache in her cheek was fading now. But something else was forming beneath it. A plan. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She might not have been the mother Molly needed—but she was still the sharpest weapon in the room. And it was time to cut through the lies. **** “God, that hurt,” Jane muttered under her breath, wincing as she touched her cheek again. Jane exhaled slowly, tucking the phone into her coat. Her fingers were trembling slightly, but not from fear. Anticipation. She turned to herself, muttering quietly, “Let them play the her
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219 Jane was a good actress.Always had been.The tears never came when they were supposed to, and yet she could conjure them on command. A trembling voice, a haunted look, a furious, grieving mother storming into the middle of someone else’s crisis like she owned it—she wore the mask well. She always had.She could remember the first time she learned how useful a lie could be. She was ten, maybe eleven. Her father had forgotten to pick her up from piano class. Again. When she walked home alone, cold and soaked from the rain, her mother demanded to know why she hadn’t called.“I dropped the phone,” Jane had said. “It broke.”Not true. Not even close.But her mother had sighed, pulled her into a towel, and mumbled something about how her father never remembered the important things. That day, Jane realized that people didn’t want the truth. They wanted a version of it they could live with.Molly’s disappearance? Tragic, yes. Maddening, of course. But gut-wrenching?Not exactly.She fe
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218Her cheek was on fire.The skin throbbed beneath her fingertips, every heartbeat pumping more heat into the wound Lilith had left. Jane could feel the swelling already—tight and raw, as if a thousand needles were pricking her at once. Her ears rang from the sound of the slap, but louder still was the pounding of her own pride, screaming at her that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this end with her standing there, humiliated.No.Not like this.Not with Dylan between them, not with Lilith standing there looking like some righteous, self-important goddess. Not when her cheek was burning like it was trying to peel off her damn face.Jane’s eyes locked on Lilith—and without a second thought, without hesitation or grace, she struck.Her hand shot out fast and furious, an explosion of motion that cracked across Lilith’s face with a sickening sound. Her palm connected hard, and the impact shuddered down her arm like a jolt.Lilith’s head snapped to the side. Her hair, half-loose from the earli
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217Jane’s chest heaved, her breath coming fast and shallow. Her eyes burned—wild, furious, and unrelenting. She pointed a shaking finger at Dylan, voice trembling but loud enough to draw the attention of a passing couple across the street.“I left you, Dylan. You. Not Molly.”Her voice dropped, turning venomous and precise, like she was lashing each syllable across his face. “Both of you were the chains wrapped around my neck. You—some pathetic, broke, useless excuse of a man. A man with no future, no plan, no spine. Every day I spent in that house was like dying slowly. I did the right thing leaving. And guess what? I’m better for it. Stronger. Smarter. And soon, I’ll be a very rich woman. Not just locally. Not just nationally. Internationally. Bobby’s making it happen.”Dylan blinked, once, then twice. For a second he said nothing, just looked at her—really looked at her. At the expensive earrings, the glossy lipstick, the clothes tailored to perfection. All the glitter piled on to
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216 “I left Molly,” she whispered. “I left her behind. I thought she’d be better off without the mess I was making. I thought Dylan—God—he was supposed to protect her.” “I think he’s been trying,” Lisa said softly. “But he’s hiding something. Maybe a lot of things.” “And he brought Lilith into this,” Jane muttered. “Of course he did. Of course.” There was venom in her voice when she said Lilith’s name. Jane had met the woman twice—both times by accident, and both times left her with the distinct impression that Lilith was a wolf smiling in a fur coat. Jane’s breathing became shallow. She looked around her kitchen like she was searching for something to punch. The cabinets were too sturdy. The walls were too silent. “She’s just a little girl,” Jane said, her voice cracking. “She still calls bees ‘buzzies’ and thinks thunder means God’s bowling. How the hell could he keep this from me?” Lisa didn’t speak. “I’m going to find him,” Jane said suddenly, moving. Her voice was low and
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215Her hand slowly dropped from her cheek. “You’re talking about her like she’s a monster.”“She’s not,” Dylan said. “She’s human. But that doesn’t make her a mother.”A long silence stretched between them.Lilith said nothing, letting the space breathe, letting the weight of truth settle.Lisa looked at her, and for once, there was no bite in her voice. Just a raw kind of confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”Lilith looked back evenly. “Because you were too busy setting the stage.”Lisa’s lip trembled. “I didn’t know…”“No,” Dylan said, softer now. “You didn’t want to know.”He stepped past her then, toward the street, toward whatever came next. He was done with the confrontation. Done with the theater. There were more important things to do.Molly needed him.Lilith followed without a word, falling into step beside him.Lisa stood in the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by the remnants of her own performance—watchers gone, the spotlight faded.She was alone now.And the weight of
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214 Infact it was her shady car buyers and Dylan mistook them as people there to try to kill him. “Who are they?” Lilith asked. Lisa didn’t answer. She turned back to Dylan instead. “Don’t play dumb. Don’t pretend you’re in danger. You’re not the victim here. You never have been.” “Then what’s the show for?” Lilith asked. “I told you,” Lisa snapped. “People deserve to know what kind of man he is.” “People already think they know,” Lilith said. “You’re just hammering it in. Why now? Why here? What’s happening that you don’t want anyone to see?” Lisa’s jaw clenched. She took another step back. But Dylan had already started mentally mapping the exit points. The alley to their right. The cafe entrance. The fire escape four buildings down. He wasn’t just seeing Lisa anymore—he was reading the whole board. This wasn’t random. And the moment he’d seen her, standing there with her coat too perfect, voice too loud, eyes too bright, he’d known. It was all wrong. It wasn’t grief or
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213“She finally divorced you,” Lisa said, the words slicing the air like glass. Her voice was calmer now, but only because she knew she’d drawn blood. “Finally. And thank God she did. Jane is building a life now—a future. Something you would have ruined if she’d stayed. You dragged her down long enough.”The words settled over the sidewalk like ash. A few onlookers had stopped, heads turning, phones subtly raised. The city had its own rhythm—cars hissing by on wet asphalt, neon lights flickering in windows—but all of it dimmed under Lisa’s voice.Dylan stood frozen for a beat too long. His hands curled into fists, not out of anger, but restraint. His heart pounded like a war drum behind his ribs. He wanted to yell, to peel back her lies in front of everyone, to lay out the complexities of what had really happened—what Jane had chosen to ignore, what she had run from long before any betrayal.But he knew how this would look.Lisa always knew how to hold a stage. How to paint herself i
