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Rise Of The Phoenix: Dylan’s Rebirth 30
30Jane scoffed immediately, crossing her arms. “Dylan? Are you kidding me? He’s a nobody. A broke loser. No one would even care enough to blame him.”Lisa leaned back, swirling the deep red liquid in her glass, the candlelight from the expensive chandelier casting a golden shimmer across the room. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she murmured, taking a slow sip. “He may be worthless, but you were married to him. That gives him just enough connection to your success to make the story believable. You say he sabotaged you out of jealousy, and boom—you go from failed businesswoman to victim of a bitter, spiteful ex-husband. People love a good betrayal story.”Jane hesitated, her fingers tapping impatiently against her arm. The idea was tempting, but it wasn’t foolproof. “It’s risky,” she muttered, her voice laced with doubt.Lisa’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Everything is risky,” she said breezily, placing her glass on the table with a soft clink. “But the rewards? They could be huge. Sy
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31Jane tapped her screen, opening her social media app. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting the perfect post:Jane Cooper:"Betrayal cuts the deepest when it comes from someone you once trusted. After years of sacrifice, I was on the verge of securing the biggest deal of my career—until my ex-husband, Dylan, ruined everything out of petty jealousy. He couldn’t handle my success, so he made sure I lost it all. Some men just can’t stand to see a woman rise above them."She paused, rereading the words. They were strong, but they weren’t enough. She needed to twist the knife deeper. With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she continued:"And while I’ve been rebuilding from the damage he caused, he’s been doing just fine—thanks to Helen Nelson’s generosity. It’s funny, isn’t it? Some men will do anything to avoid earning their own way in life."Lisa let out a low whistle. “Savage. I love it.”Jane stared at the post for a moment longer, then, with a satisfied smirk, hit Post.The mome
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32 On the Other Side of the City… Mr. Nelson leaned back in his grand leather chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the mahogany desk. The city skyline stretched behind him, the lights twinkling in the night like scattered stars. He had barely hung up with Helen when he pressed a button on the intercom. “Charles,” he said, his voice cool but commanding. Within seconds, the heavy double doors swung open, and Charles Emerson, his sharp-eyed young butler, stepped inside. Dressed in a crisp black suit, the man in his early thirties carried himself with effortless precision. His neatly styled dark hair and piercing gaze gave him an air of quiet competence. He inclined his head slightly. “Yes, sir?” Mr. Nelson turned the phone screen toward him, showing Jane’s post and the firestorm it had ignited. “Get this post off the internet. Now.” Charles adjusted his cufflinks, scanning the words swiftly. “I’ll have my contacts work on it immediately, sir.” Mr. Nelson’s eyes darken
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33Lisa slammed her glass down on the table, ice clinking violently against the sides. “No way,” she hissed, snatching her phone back and refreshing the page over and over again.Jane leaned in, her expression darkening. “Try searching it up. Maybe it’s just a glitch.”Lisa’s fingers moved fast, typing keywords into the search bar. Nothing. It was as if their entire post—and the storm it had created—had never existed.Her jaw tightened. “This isn’t a glitch, Jane. Someone took it down.”Jane’s lips curled into a sneer. “Took it down? Who the hell has that kind of power?”Lisa exhaled sharply, setting her phone aside as she reached for her drink again. “I don’t know, but if Dylan had anything to do with this, then he’s got some serious connections.”Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please, Lisa. Don’t be foolish. Dylan? Powerful connections? The guy’s a joke. You really think he’s capable of pulling something like this off?”Lisa hesitated, the memory of that night at Jane’s place
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34The Next Morning…Sunlight streamed through the villa’s expansive windows, casting warm golden streaks across the polished marble floor. The air carried a serene stillness, disturbed only by the distant chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of leaves outside.Dylan stirred on the couch, his back stiff and aching from a restless night. Sleep had barely touched him—Jane’s betrayal, the online scandal, and the endless thoughts swirling in his mind had kept him awake. He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before finally pushing himself up. His throat felt dry.Water. I need water.As he took a step toward the kitchen, he heard heavy footsteps approaching.“Hey—”Before he could finish, a sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the air.“Stop right there!”Dylan’s head snapped up. Standing at the entrance of the living room were two of the villa’s security guards, both looking at him like he was a criminal caught in the act.The taller of the two, a broad-shouldered
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35The door creaked open.All three men froze.A small, sleepy voice broke the tense silence.“Daddy?”Dylan turned sharply, his heart twisting at the sight of his four-year-old daughter, Molly, standing at the top of the staircase. She was still in her pink pajamas, her curly hair a messy halo around her head, and she rubbed her eyes with tiny fists.The guards exchanged confused glances.Molly pouted, her little brows furrowing. “Daddy, why are you yelling?” She clumsily made her way down the stairs, her bare feet padding against the wooden steps.Dylan exhaled sharply, his frustration melting into concern. He didn’t want her waking up to this nonsense.“Molly, baby, go back to bed,” he said gently, forcing his voice to remain calm.But Molly was already making her way toward him. She latched onto his leg, looking up at the two guards with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.“Who are these men, Daddy?” she asked, blinking up at them.The younger guard stiffened, glancing between Dylan
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36Molly huffed, pointing an accusing finger at them. “I told you!”The younger guard stammered, his cocky attitude gone. “W-We didn’t know—”“You didn’t listen.” Dylan’s voice was sharp, his patience long gone.Helen’s eyes flashed with irritation. She crossed her arms and gave the guards a cold stare. “Apologize. To both of them.”The older guard’s jaw clenched, but he swallowed his pride. “Mr. Grenville we’re sorry.”The younger one hesitated, then turned to Molly, his face red with embarrassment. “Kid, uh—Molly—we’re really sorry. We were wrong.”Molly tilted her head, unimpressed. “You were mean.”The younger guard flinched. “Yeah… yeah, we were.”Helen nodded, then took a step closer. “Now beg.”Their eyes widened. “What?” the older guard blurted.Helen arched a brow. “Did I stutter? You almost threw your boss and his four-year-old daughter out of their own house. If you want to keep your jobs, you better start groveling.”The younger guard’s face paled. He exchanged a panicked
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37Dragonia’s ReturnDylan leaned against the sleek red Ferrari, his arms crossed as he watched Helen walk Molly into the school. His daughter turned back one last time, her bright eyes lighting up as she waved at him. He waved back, a warm smile on his face, playing the part of the doting father.But the moment Helen’s car disappeared down the street, his smile faded. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating glint. The playful father was gone.The man the world once feared had returned.He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an old phone he put there when entering the car. It was a simple, unassuming black device, one he hadn’t touched in years. A phone that was never meant for casual use. It carried only one purpose: business. His business.Dylan pressed a familiar number. He hadn’t dialed it in years, but his fingers moved without hesitation. Muscle memory.The line rang once.Twice.Then—A sharp intake of breath. The sound of a chair scraping
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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
