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SEASON 2 : CHAPTER 300
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You never change, huh? Still acting like you’re above it all. Let me guess—you think we’re the joke?”Javier Everhart didn’t flinch. He simply tilted his head, fingers loosely wrapped around the stem of a half-empty water glass. His white t-shirt clung softly to his frame, worn but clean. Sneakers tucked beneath his chair. He looked entirely out of place in the room lined with velvet chairs and waiters in tuxedos, but he didn’t seem to notice.“I don’t think you’re a joke,” Javier said mildly. “You’re all exactly how I remember.”Marcus let out a bark of laughter and clapped Dean’s shoulder. “Did you hear that? I think this guy’s got selective memory. Or maybe poverty rots the brain.”“Maybe he hit his head on a ceiling fan in his box apartment,” Dean added.More laughter erupted around the table. Glasses clinked. Steak knives carved into wagyu, and wine bottles passed freely. Javier sat among them like a stranger dropped into a masquerade. No one cared to o
SEASON 2 : CHAPTER 299
Javier Everhart stood in the elevator, his posture relaxed as the floor numbers blinked downward. His white T-shirt hung loosely over his lean frame, paired with dark pants and worn sneakers—the same ones he pulled out from his trunk simply because they were comfortable. His jacket? Left in the car. There hadn’t been time. A last-minute issue at the office had held him back. He didn’t mind. He never did.The email about his high school reunion had arrived earlier that day, and though Javier wasn’t one for nostalgia, something compelled him to attend. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the simple fact that no one from that school had any idea who he had become. And he liked it that way.The elevator doors opened into the marbled lobby of the five-star restaurant. Plush carpeting stretched beneath his feet, golden lights reflecting off t
CHAPTER 298
The room was darker than sin.A chandelier of onyx glass hung above a circular table, where fourteen masked bidders sat. Each held a numbered paddle. On display was the night’s most valuable item: Project Sable—a hard drive containing proprietary neural research, capable of manipulating memory implants. Illegal. Dangerous. Worth billions.And tonight, Javier Everhart wasn’t here to bid.He was here to end it.Disguised as one of the bidders—paddle 09—he listened as the auctioneer began. “Opening bid: thirty million euros.”Paddle 04 raised a hand. “Forty.”Paddle 07: “Fifty-five.”Paddle 12: “Eighty.”The room vibrated with greed.And then—he spoke.“Two hundred million euros.”Gasps.Every head turned.The auctioneer choked slightly. “Paddle... 09?”Javier removed his mask.Half the room froze.The other half began texting frantically.Lucien Varros sat at the far end, his jaw tightening. He was older now—gray streaking his temples, but his smile was still venom in velvet.“So,” Luci
CHAPTER 297
Two Days Later – Tuscany, Italy. Lang Estate Masquerade Ball.The Lang estate sat atop the hills like a crown of marble and glass. From afar, it looked serene—vineyards stretching toward the horizon under a bleeding sunset, violins echoing from the grand hall, and gold-plated masks dancing under crystal chandeliers.Javier stood at the edge of the ballroom terrace, dressed in sharp black, his mask plain. He watched as the elite of Europe sipped wine and whispered secrets, unaware that the next explosion had already begun ticking.“Visual on Veronique,” Amara said through the earpiece. “North side of the ballroom. Red gown. Phoenix mask.”“Copy that.” He set his glass down.He passed guests laughing behind feathered masks—countesses, oligarchs, pharma tycoons. A man brushed his shoulder and muttered, “Watch where you walk, servant.”Javier didn’t even blink.They still thought he was no one.That was always their mistake.Veronique Lang stood beside a hedge of roses, holding court. Her
CHAPTER 296
Three Weeks Later – Geneva, SwitzerlandJavier adjusted the silk tie around his neck as he stepped out of the black Aston Martin parked at the curb of the Grand Beaumont Hotel. The doormen didn’t recognize him.Not yet.He moved through the lobby like a shadow in tailored grey. Marble floors, gold trim, laughter echoing from the ballroom beyond. A charity gala, hosted by the same bastards who once funded Sable’s cloning project. Tonight, they were raising money for “global ethics in biotechnology.”The irony almost made him laugh.Amara’s voice crackled in his earpiece.“Security team is minimal. No facial recognition system. You’re clear.”He gave a faint nod. “And our guest?”“Just arrived. Penthouse suite. Senator Kade.”Javier’s jaw tightened.Senator Horace Kade had publicly denounced the use of cloning—yet had secretly funneled over 20 million into Project Echo through offshore accounts. He was the first domino. Javier didn’t want him dead.He wanted him exposed.And humiliated.
CHAPTER 295
A low hiss echoed through the chamber as the containment pods began to drain, the viscous fluid sloshing out in heavy, rhythmic pulses. Tubes detached. Monitors flared to life. And from behind the glass, the shadows moved.Amara stepped back, gun raised, her voice cold. “Javier, tell me that’s not—”“Me,” he said grimly. “Or at least, what Sable thinks is me.”The first pod opened with a metallic groan. A figure stepped forward—naked, drenched, and eerily calm. He looked… identical. Same height. Same build. Same piercing eyes that had silenced boardrooms and enemies alike.Sable’s voice slithered in the air. “Meet J2. No childhood trauma. No compassion. No hesitation. Just instinct, strategy, and violence—all the things you’ve been suppressing behind that expensive suit and stoic restraint.”Javier stared at the clone. It blinked. Tilted its head. Studied him with a kind of curiosity that was far too measured.“You built a monster,” Javier said quietly.Sable shrugged. “I refined a we
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