2025-02-18 19:11:30The sound of the collapsing building still pounds in my ears as I run. My breath is fast and sharp, cutting through the cold night air. The backpack slams against my back with every step, the laptop inside pressing against my spine. The Oath isn’t just trying to scare me—they want me dead.
The city around me is a maze of flickering streetlights, old brick walls, and neon lights reflecting in puddles from last night’s rain. I dart through the alleyways, my boots barely making a sound on the wet pavement. Behind me, shadows move together. No rushing. No wasted steps. They know me. They know how I fight. I push harder. The alley ahead gets narrower. The walls close in. I jump over a chain-link fence, my muscles burning as I hit the ground hard on the other side. I twist as I land, pulling out my Glock 19 and firing two shots at the closest shadow. One body drops, but I don’t have time to check. They keep coming. A figure lunges from the side. A punch slams into my ribs. Wrong move. My body reacts before I even think, twisting with the hit to absorb the impact. I hook my arm around his, then drive my elbow into his throat. He gurgles, stumbles back. I don’t stop. I grab his wrist, twist it hard, and use his own weight to pull him off balance. Before he can react, I slam my knee into his face. Two down. The third is already moving in. I barely get my arm up to block a strike aimed at my head. The hit numbs my entire forearm. He’s fast—too fast. I kick his legs out from under him, but he rolls and recovers quickly. Too quickly. I know that move. We were trained the same way. The thought barely registers before he attacks again. A fake left, a real swing right. It’s predictable. I should dodge. But I’m slower than I should be. Pain explodes in my jaw. His punch connects hard. My vision blurs—just for a second, but that’s all he needs. His boot slams into my ribs, sending me into the alley wall. My skull hits the brick. Focus. I grit my teeth, shift my weight, and push off the wall, launching myself forward. He doesn’t expect it. I slam my fist into his throat. He gasps, staggering back. Before he can recover, I grab him, spin him, and slam his head into the wall. He slumps. Three down. But there are more. My body screams at me to stop, but I can’t. I wipe blood from my lip. My mind races. Who sent them? The government? Julian? Someone else? One thing is clear—these men weren’t here to capture me. They fought with deadly precision. Their strikes were meant to kill. This was an execution team. I need to get out. I slip through another alley, scanning the street. Cars rush past, headlights flashing. My pulse pounds in my ears. A black SUV sits at the curb. Dark windows. Engine running. It’s a trap. I don’t care. I sprint into traffic, dodging a honking sedan, and yank the SUV’s driver-side door open. The driver—a man in tactical gear—barely has time to react before I slam my fist into his nose. Blood sprays. He slumps forward. Unconscious. I grab his vest and shove him onto the pavement. The second I hit the gas, I know I made the right move. The SUV screeches away. In the rearview mirror, more agents rush from the alley. They were waiting. I don’t slow down. The city lights blur past as I weave through traffic, my muscles tight, my thoughts racing. This wasn’t random. They knew exactly where to find me. And worse—they fought like me. A cold knot tightens in my gut. If they were trained the same way I was, that means only one thing. The Oath isn’t just hunting me. They created me. And now, they want me erased.
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CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
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