2025-04-07 10:44:44Nolan's eyes narrowed.
He could see Evelyn laughing and talking with Zahir Malikyan. But it wasn’t just a polite conversation—it was different. Her body language was playful… too playful. She tilted her head, touched Zahir’s arm lightly, and even whispered something into his ear. Then, Evelyn leaned closer and smiled in a way that made Nolan’s stomach twist. It was the kind of smile she used to give him when they were in love. The kind that held a spark. But now, that spark was aimed at another man. Nolan’s hands tightened around the bouquet and the necklace case. His heart began to race, his chest was growing tighter with every passing second. And then it happened. Zahir took Evelyn’s hand. He leaned in close, whispered something to her—and she nodded. Without looking back, Zahir Malikyan gently led her away from the crowd, pulling her toward a quiet exit at the far end of the hall. Nolan froze. The lights of the gala still flashed around him. Laughter and music filled the air. But all of that faded. His mind screamed with confusion. Why is she letting him touch her like that? Why is she leaving with him? Fueled by disbelief and growing pain, Nolan began moving fast—walking past tables, past smiling faces, past powerful people who didn’t know what was happening to him inside. As he moved, the bouquet in his hand began to lose petals. One by one, the soft red petals floated to the floor, unnoticed by Nolan but noticed by others. He bumped into a man in a grey suit. “Hey, watch it!” the man snapped. “Who carries flowers around like that in a VIP occasion such as this?” “Is he a florist?” another guest laughed, sipping champagne. “Looks like he’s about to make a delivery to a birthday party!” A woman in a long golden gown stepped back with a frown. “Do you know who this is bumping into us?” “I don’t,” a voice muttered. “Maybe someone from the serving team…” But Nolan didn’t stop. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at them. His only focus was the exit. He pushed open the doors and stepped into the quieter hallway behind the gala room. It was dimly lit, lined with private rooms for VIP guests. He paused for a moment, his ears were sharp. Where are they? And then… he heard it. A faint sound. Movement. A whisper of clothing. A soft laugh. It came from one of the nearby doors—slightly open. Nolan walked toward it, slow and careful. His chest felt heavy. His grip on the bouquet and necklace was tight. He reached the door. His hand trembled as he pushed it open. What he saw inside made his world collapse. There, in the soft light of the room, was Evelyn. She was in Zahir Malikyan’s arms. Her blouse was already halfway down, revealing her bare shoulder and more. Her hands were wrapped around his neck. They were kissing. Not a friendly kiss. Not a mistake. But a deep, romantic, passionate kiss. The kind Nolan hadn’t felt from her in months. Time stopped. The flowers slipped from his hands. The box holding the necklace fell and hit the floor with a soft thud. Nolan felt his heart shatter inside him. A pain he had never known before swallowed him whole. His wife. The woman he had fought for, loved, supported greatly, and honored was with another man. Nolan stood still, his heart was pounding. For seven long seconds, he just stared. A soft laugh escaped Evelyn's mouth. A sound Nolan hadn’t heard in a long time. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Then, without thinking, he called out her name. “Evelyn?” His voice cracked with pain. Evelyn froze instantly. Her eyes darted to the side. She gasped and quickly pulled away from Zahir, adjusting her blouse in panic. Her lips trembled. Her eyes widened. “Nolan…” she whispered. “Wait, please—this isn’t—” Nolan took a shaky step forward. His face was twisted in hurt and anger. “How could you?” His voice was heavy, broken. “Evelyn, how could you do this to me?” Evelyn rushed toward him, reaching out to calm him. “No, no, Nolan, please listen! It’s not what you think! This... this is just a friendly...” she said, trying to touch his hand. Nolan pulled back, his voice was rising with every word. “What do mean friendly? You think that makes it better? You think I didn’t see what I saw? You were kissing him! You let him touch you! You left with him!” Tears formed in Evelyn’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was confused, I—” Suddenly, Zahir Malikyan stepped forward. “Khalaas!” he snapped, his voice was deep and full of warning. “Do not raise your voice at her. Ana a’oulak—don’t shout at Evelyn. If you do that again… I swear, you will regret it.” Nolan’s blood boiled. He turned sharply to Zahir. And before anyone could stop him— SLAP! Nolan’s hand struck across Zahir Malikyan’s face, loud and sharp. Gasps filled the hallway. Nolan didn’t care. He didn’t care about the man’s power. His title. His money. Not tonight. “Who do you think you are,” Nolan said through clenched teeth, “to tell me how to speak to my wife?” Evelyn's eyes widened in shock and horror as she understood the gravity and consequence of what Nolan had done.
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FIVE MILLION REASONS TO RUN
Three days had passed since the folder appeared. Three long, restless days.Nolan hadn’t eaten much. He hadn’t slept right. His mind had been buried in code and paranoia.He had gone deeper than ever into the Blockchain market, studying every move, every shift, every whisper in the network.He watched as other hackers took Lord Atherton's offer. And he watched them vanish—silent logouts, ghost accounts, blacklisted IPs. Just... gone.But he didn’t touch the folder.He kept his promise to himself.He didn’t click.Now, as soft blue morning light poured into the small vents near the bunker ceiling, Nolan leaned back in his old office chair. The glow from the screens around him no longer felt like pressure—they just felt like light.He stretched his arms above his head, bones cracking slightly. A long sigh escaped his chest.“That’s it,” he whispered. “I’m done for today.”He saved a few final logs, closed some private browser tunnels, and powered down two of his older machines.The bunk
THE GLOWING CAGE
Right inside Nolan's secret bunker, the folder glowed on Nolan’s screen:NATIONAL FUND — PRIORITY ACCESSIt looked harmless. Just another file. But to Nolan, it was like a burning ember—bright, hot, impossible to ignore.He didn’t touch it.Not yet.His fingers, were usually fast and sure as they typed across his keyboard, now hovered in mid-air. Frozen. Hesitant.His gut—the place where his instincts usually spoke loud and clear—was quiet. Worse than quiet. It was tied in a tight, painful knot.He sat in his command room, the place he had built with his own hands. A dark, humming space filled with glowing screens and the quiet buzz of machines. Wires twisted across the floor like living things, connecting everything together. This was the heart of the Ghost Network—a secret system Nolan had built alone, line by line, byte by byte. It was his weapon, his creation, his answer to the powerful digital regime that ruled their world. Specifically the Blockchain market.Now, the regime w
A BYTE OF BAIT
The cameras were rolling.Reporters filled the press room like bees in a hive, buzzing with questions. Notepads flipped open. Camera flashes exploded. Some stood on tiptoe just to get a better view of the man who was about to speak.At the podium stood the Minister of Finance—short, sharp-eyed, and polished to perfection. His navy-blue suit looked like it had been pressed between glass. His round glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose. When he opened his mouth, the room fell silent like someone had cut the power.“Today,” he said, his voice smooth but strong, “we launch the most powerful economic initiative in our nation’s digital future.”The words bounced across the walls like thunder.“The National Digital Opportunity Fund—a groundbreaking initiative worth over 300 billion dollars—is not just about money. It’s about rebuilding the future from the code up.”He let that hang for a beat.“This program will support decentralized startups, offer zero-tax crypto incentives, fu
GHOST NETWORK BREACHED
He murmured, his deep voice was barely above a whisper.“Precisely,” Nolan said, nodding slowly. “This isn’t just spying. This is a declaration. They want me to know I’m vulnerable… that they can reach me—anywhere, anytime. And this isn’t a normal hitman style, not entirely. Too… personal. Too taunting. Too haunting.”Just as the word “haunting” left Nolan’s lips, the lights in the room—and the entire mansion—flickered, then plunged them into pitch-black silence.In one fluid motion, Anya’s hand flew to the pistol holstered at her side, her stance shifting into combat readiness. Her eyes scanned every shadow, every flicker of movement in the darkness. Boris stepped forward, placing his massive frame between the door and the rest of the room. His breathing slowed, his muscles coiled like a spring. Mr. Jethro didn’t move from his seat, but his shoulders straightened, and his eyes narrowed—his body language was now more alert than ever.No one spoke. No one dared.Outside the meeting r
THE SILENCE SCREAMS
Nolan stared at the screen. We see you. The words burned into his thoughts.His hands trembled. The footage had shown him in every room—his study, his kitchen, even his bunker. That wasn’t just a security breach. That was a message.Someone had been inside. Someone skilled enough to leave no trace.The lights flickered again. He looked up fast, eyes scanning every corner. Was it a power issue—or were they watching right now?The walls felt closer. The silence louder. His lab, once a safe place, now felt like a lie.He had swept his chamber, his lab and his balcony. He even asked some of the enforcers within his mansion to scan the area countless times. Nothing. No hidden devices, no signs of entry. And yet, the chip had proof. Clean, perfect video. From impossible angles.How did they do it? How long had they been there?He felt cold. Not from fear—but from the truth hitting him hard: he wasn’t alone. He hadn’t been for a while.This was more than spying. It was control.Nolan clenche
WE SEE YOU
Finally, with a deep breath, Nolan carefully lifted the box. It was surprisingly light, almost empty. He brought it inside, placing it gently on a clean, white cloth on his desk. He used a tiny, specialized pry tool to unseal the edges. The lid lifted with a soft click, revealing its contents. There was only one thing inside: a single, small, black data chip. It looked like a standard memory chip, but Nolan knew better than to trust appearances. This was clearly encrypted, likely with a level of security that would stump anyone else. But not him.He picked up the chip, feeling its cool, smooth surface against his gloved fingers. His mind raced. "If they wanted me dead," he thought, "I’d already be dead." This wasn't about killing him. This was about something else. A message. A warning. A declaration. But from whom? Elias Thorne? The Phantom Syndicate? Or someone else entirely? The questions swirled in his mind, each one leading to another dead end. Yet, there was a strange s
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