2025-07-07 06:47:40The intercom crackled again. That same voice.
“We warned you, Derek. Stop chasing ghosts.”
Derek was already moving—grabbing the hidden pistol from the drawer, switching his monitor feed to security cameras. Every hallway was dark. But on Camera 07, he spotted it.
A figure, tall and familiar, standing in the elevator.
Impossible.
His uncle—James Dawson—had died in a car crash ten years ago. The body was burned beyond recognition. The funeral closed-casket. Derek had been fifteen.
And yet, here he was, staring back at him through a grainy feed.
Was it a trick? A voice mimic? Deepfake?
Or worse…
The elevator stopped on his floor.
Derek turned off the monitor and killed the lights. Silent as a predator, he moved to the shadows near the door.
Footsteps.
The distinct sound of Italian leather on marble.
Then a soft knock. Just three taps.
Then silence.
Then…
“I taught you better than to freeze, Derek.”
The voice was real.
He didn’t open the door. He whispered instead: “If you’re alive… why disappear? Why let them bury you?”
From the other side: “Because I needed you to grow teeth.”
Derek unlocked the door, hand on his weapon. The man on the other side stepped in slowly.
And there he was.
James Dawson. Older. Gaunter. A silver beard framing his hardened face. But unmistakably alive.
They sat in the dark.
James lit a cigar with a calmness that bordered on psychotic. “I watched you grow, kid. Saw you fall. Saw you get married. Even saw that leech you called a wife cozy up with your enemies.”
Derek didn’t speak. His world was still spinning.
“I had to vanish,” James said. “Your father and I—” he paused. “We discovered something. A rot inside Dawson’s legacy. Deeper than embezzlement. We tried to cut it out. But they came for us.”
“I thought your car crash was—”
“A message,” James said flatly. “They let you live. You were young. Useless to them.”
He leaned forward. “But now you’re not.”
Across town, Tahlia sat in a luxury suite she hadn’t paid for.
Miles Beckford lounged on the sofa, swirling red wine.
“I told you he’d ignore you,” Miles said, smirking. “He’s not the same broke boy begging for love.”
Tahlia was silent. She couldn’t get the look in Derek’s eyes out of her head. He was colder now. Sharper. Deadlier.
“He’s changed,” she murmured.
“Exactly what we needed,” Miles replied, rising. “Now that he’s exposed the board, they’re vulnerable. Your uncle Martin’s next move is already in place.”
Tahlia flinched. “You said no one would get hurt.”
Miles laughed. “Sweetheart, everyone’s going to get hurt.”
Back at the penthouse, James placed a leather file on Derek’s desk.
“Inside this are names. Offshore accounts. And something bigger — the real reason they killed your father.”
Derek’s hands shook slightly as he opened the file. Dozens of photos. A ledger. Transaction records. Hidden arms deals. Connections to corrupt government officials.
And then one photo caught his eye.
Tahlia.
Smiling beside Martin Cray… years ago.
“She was planted,” James said.
“No,” Derek muttered, shaking his head. “I chose her. She loved me.”
“She was sent to love you,” James growled. “And now that you’re rising, they’re pulling her strings again.”
Derek felt like the ground had opened beneath him.
“I don’t believe she’s part of it. Maybe… maybe she was used too.”
James narrowed his eyes. “Then test her. Give her a chance to prove her loyalty.”
Derek looked up. “How?”
James smiled grimly. “Lie to her. Feed her bait. And see who bites first.”
The next morning, Derek made his move.
He sent Tahlia a message.
Derek: “You’re right. We need to talk. Come over tonight. Alone.”
Then he told Wyatt to plant a fake document on his desk — one hinting at a massive upcoming acquisition in Dubai. A file worth millions to anyone watching from the shadows.
Now, he waited.
Night fell.
Tahlia arrived, all soft smiles and timid footsteps.
She sat across from him, nervously playing with her ring — the same one she once threw back at him during their fight.
“I meant it, Derek,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for everything.”
Derek watched her carefully. “Then tell me one thing. Did Miles know about the Dawson family’s offshore ventures?”
Her breath caught.
Just a second too long.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She lied.
Derek said nothing. He nodded slowly, stood up, and stepped out of the room.
James was waiting in the hallway, listening through a feed.
“She’s compromised,” James said.
But Derek’s eyes were colder than ever. “She’s mine to deal with.”
Cliffhanger Ending
The next morning, the fake Dubai file was missing.
And within hours, a leaked press statement hit global news.
“Dawson’s Assets Planning Illegal Expansion into Middle East — Insider Leak Claims.”
Derek stared at the headline.
Then at the surveillance feed.
It showed Tahlia.
Copying the file.
And calling someone under a blocked number.
But the voice on the other end?
It wasn’t Miles.
It was Martin Cray.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 21: Echoes of Betrayal
The chill in the room was nothing compared to the frost settling over Derek’s heart.He stood motionless, fists clenched at his sides, as the private investigator laid the final photo on the mahogany table. It was grainy, but unmistakable — Alina, holding hands with Sebastian Harrow, the same man who had tried to bankrupt Dawson Holdings six months ago. The same man who Derek had once punched during a hostile board meeting for threatening his family’s legacy.Now, that snake was back — with Alina.“You’re telling me this was taken two days ago?” Derek asked, voice low and dangerous.“Yes, sir,” the investigator nodded. “Outside the Langford Hotel. They spent nearly three hours inside.”Three hours.Derek’s jaw tightened until pain bloomed up his temple. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. For a moment, the world tilted and spun, and all the control he had fought so hard to regain in the last few weeks unraveled like loose thread.Alina. The one woman who had sworn she’d never betray
Chapter 20: The Edge of No Return
The flames devoured the southern wing of the Dawson estate like a beast unchained, and Derek Dawson stood still—his eyes reflecting the inferno, his mind miles away.Someone had betrayed him.Not just the system. Not just his enemies.Someone close.The fire wasn’t just a warning. It was a declaration. And whoever lit it knew exactly where to strike.The south wing wasn’t just part of the mansion. It held the family archives, the hidden vault his grandfather once called the cradle of the crown.Derek didn’t need to be told—it was gone.He barely noticed the blood trickling from his clenched fists. His jaw was tight. His phone buzzed on his hip, but he didn’t reach for it.He already knew.“You should’ve let me die poor,” he whispered under his breath, voice calm, deadly.Behind him, chaos reigned. Firefighters sprayed water over the crumbling structure, his security teams barked orders, and his assistant Michael stumbled toward him, ash covering his face.“Sir—sir! It wasn’t just the
Chapter 19: The Price of Power
Derek stood alone in the glass-walled war room, the city sprawling behind him like a restless beast. A million lights blinked across the skyline, yet the silence in his chest screamed louder than any storm. The empire his grandfather had left him wasn’t just made of steel and secrets—it was soaked in blood.“You can’t lead them all and save yourself,” Gabriel had warned him earlier that day.But Derek wasn’t trying to save himself.He was trying to redeem a name that had been drowned in scandal, betrayal, and fear.He clenched his fists. A confidential report lay on the mahogany table, still damp from the rain that soaked his coat when he raced back from the warehouse ambush.It was a setup.Not just the attack.The entire inheritance.Everything.He picked up the document, scanned the emblem again: The Obsidian Circle.A shadow network tied directly to his father’s mysterious disappearance and now—new evidence tied them to Victoria’s betrayal.His blood ran cold. The woman he once vo
Chapter 18: The Blood on the Crown
The cold wind that swept through the gates of Valemont’s royal estate didn’t rattle Derek Dawson. Not anymore.He stood at the edge of the courtyard, drenched in sweat and silence, facing the towering oak doors that led into the Hall of Ancients. Inside that room lay the last official document that would crown him—not just metaphorically—but legally, financially, and publicly as the rightful heir to the Ashbourne legacy. But as he took a step forward, his phone buzzed.It was Blake.BLAKE: Don’t sign anything. They’ve tampered with the succession file. It’s a trap.Derek stopped mid-stride. His fingers tightened around the device as the reality sank like cold lead into his spine. Blake never dramatized anything—and if he was warning him to hold off, then something bigger was unfolding.He quickly replied.DEREK: What do you mean tampered? Who’s “they”?BLAKE: It’s Adrian’s father. Charles Bishop. He never left the dynasty. He’s pulling strings from behind the scenes. He planted a new
CHAPTER 17: Return to the Lion’s Den
The rain hadn’t stopped for hours.Lightning forked through the night sky, illuminating the scorched remains of what used to be Derek’s safe house. A few feet away, a body lay curled in a fetal position. Blood diluted in puddles.It wasn’t just any body.It was the man who swore allegiance to the Dawson bloodline. Luca.Derek stood still, drenched and silent, as the raindrops hit his skin like needles. His face was blank, but his fingers twitched as he stared at the lifeless body of one of the few men he’d trusted.The betrayal ran too deep to be contained in words. Luca had been the first to warn him about the resurgence of The Syndicate. The same Luca who swore he’d burn for Derek’s cause.And yet… it was his encrypted comms device that had led the assassins to them.“Derek…” came a faint voice behind him.He didn’t flinch. He already knew who it was.Sophia’s torn blouse clung to her as she approached, her face streaked with dirt, blood, and grief.“He wasn’t the one,” she said. “We
Chapter 16: The Child Behind the Mask
Derek’s boots echoed against the marble floors of the underground chamber—deep beneath the Dawson estate, where the whispers of the dynasty’s darkest secrets were buried. He had followed the coordinates from the decrypted flash drive, which had been tucked inside the gold pocket watch his grandfather left behind.At first glance, the chamber seemed abandoned—just cold stone walls, decaying bookshelves, and a shattered mirror leaning against the far side. But the moment he stepped past the threshold, the mirror shimmered—not with light, but with movement.A boy. No older than seven. Shackled to a steel chair, head bowed, a crude mask covering half of his face.Derek’s pulse froze.He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not yet.“Who—” Derek took a cautious step forward. “Who are you?”The boy lifted his head.And Derek saw it.His eyes.The same storm-gray irises that haunted Derek in the mirror every day. That same troubled, knowing glare—the one he had as a child.No.It couldn’t be.But the
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