2025-11-11 16:47:14Chapter 6 – Crossed Paths
The Hunt estate was built to silence emotion. Every corridor gleamed with power — polished marble, tall mirrors, and chandeliers that reflected nothing but the cold perfection of its owners. The scent of cedar and old money lingered in the air, masking the faint trace of fear that always came with living among predators. Liam Hunt moved through the hall like a shadow, every step calculated, every glance unreadable. To most of the world, he was the ideal heir — calm, efficient, ruthless when necessary. But beneath the quiet rhythm of his footsteps, something had begun to fracture. He stopped before a wall-sized portrait of the Hunt family. In the painting, Emma stood beside him, her smile faint but real — the only warmth in the entire frame. His gaze lingered on her eyes, painted in shades of gold and gray. The artist had caught the spark in them, the one that never learned to bow to power. “Still staring at ghosts?” The voice came from behind him — smooth, amused, poisonous. Liam turned slowly. His older brother, Damian Hunt, leaned against the doorway, a glass of wine in hand and a smile that never reached his eyes. The family resemblance was faint — Damian wore his cruelty like a medal; Liam wore his silence like armor. “You’re early,” Liam said evenly. “Father’s orders,” Damian replied. “The board meeting is tonight. He wants the heirs to show unity.” He took a slow sip, watching him. “Try not to look like you’re mourning someone who doesn’t exist.” Liam’s eyes didn’t flicker. “She existed. That’s more than I can say for most people here.” Damian laughed softly. “Still sentimental. Tell me, Liam — do you ever wonder if Emma just ran? Maybe she got tired of being the perfect Hunt wife.” “She didn’t run.” Damian tilted his head, studying him like prey. “Then who took her?” Liam didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The answer lived in the silence between them — in the family’s unspoken code, in the way Damian smiled too easily when the topic turned dark. Damian chuckled. “Keep playing detective, little brother. Just remember — the deeper you dig, the more graves you’ll find.” He left with a lazy wave, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance. When the hall fell quiet again, Liam reached into his coat and tapped his watch twice. A blue light flickered across the surface — the System Interface pulsed faintly, responding only to his biometrics. A new alert glowed at the corner of the display: > [Encrypted File Received: Origin Unknown] Content: “Do you still believe she’s dead?” Liam’s pulse didn’t change, but something sharp flickered in his chest. He exited the estate through the eastern garden, where the city lights shimmered in the distance like a promise and a threat. The night air was colder than usual — the kind of chill that carried memory. He drove into the city, the hum of the engine the only sound in the enclosed silence. The System projected faint blue threads on the windshield — traces of data patterns leading to an address on the outskirts. A warehouse. Abandoned on record, alive in signal. When he arrived, the building stood in the half-light, surrounded by wind and silence. He stepped inside, gun holstered, senses sharpened. Every breath echoed against steel and dust. A faint hum came from a corner terminal, its screen blinking with the same blue light as his watch. He approached, the System syncing automatically. The screen flickered — then stabilized into a live feed. Static hissed, then cleared. A woman’s voice — soft, steady, unmistakable — came through. > “You shouldn’t have come here, Liam.” For the first time in months, his composure faltered. “Emma?” His voice was quiet, too quiet. The feed distorted, her silhouette flickering in and out — hair slightly longer, eyes hidden by shadow. > “They’re watching. The family. You were never supposed to find this.” He stepped closer. “Where are you?” No answer. Just her breathing, shaky and real. > “Don’t trust the Hunt name. Not even your own. The System isn’t theirs anymore… it’s mine.” The feed cut off. The screen went black. Liam stood there, surrounded by the hum of machines and the pounding of his own heart. The calm returned, but it was fractured now, no longer perfect. He touched the screen once — a faint smear of dust and memory — before turning away. Outside, the night had shifted. The wind carried a whisper of rain, and the city lights looked sharper, hungrier. He walked back to the car without a word, the watch flickering again. > [New Directive Detected: TRACE — EMMA HUNT] Status: Active. Liam looked up at the skyline — a kingdom of glass and deceit — and finally let the faintest smile touch his lips. If Emma was alive, the game had just changed. And for the first time, he intended to break every Hunt rule ever written.
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FRAGMENTS OF HER VOICE
Chapter 10 – Fragments of Her Voice The city never truly slept, but the hour between midnight and dawn had its own silence — heavy, watchful, and secretive. Liam’s car sliced through the rain-slick streets, engine humming softly beneath the storm’s rhythm. He drove without headlights for most of the way, the route imprinted in his mind long ago. When he finally stopped, it wasn’t in the city’s wealthy districts or the Hunt estate’s glass towers. He parked in an alley, between two abandoned warehouses. The building ahead looked forgotten, its walls draped in vines and grime, its windows opaque with dust. To anyone else, it was another ruin swallowed by the city. To Liam, it was home base — the only place untouched by Hunt surveillance. He keyed in a code on the steel side door, and the biometric scanner hummed before clicking open. Inside, the space was dim, lined with old computer rigs and data servers stacked like tombstones. Blue light spilled from the monitors, casting long shad
THE GHOST SIGNAL
Chapter 9 – The Ghost Signal The applause from the Hunt family dinner still echoed faintly through the mansion’s corridors as guests began to leave, their laughter drifting like smoke. Liam stood by the balcony for a moment, watching the procession of cars vanish into the night. His expression remained carved from stone, but behind that calm exterior, his mind raced. The signal Ava triggered wasn’t random — it pulsed with purpose, like a heartbeat buried in code. He checked his watch. 10:47 p.m. The Hunt servers would begin their nightly data sync in thirteen minutes. That was his window. “Leaving so soon, Mr. Hunt?” Damian’s voice came from behind, casual but probing. Liam turned, perfectly composed. “Just some unfinished work,” he replied. Damian smiled — the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. “Even during family dinners, you work. Emma used to say you’d marry your job before you’d ever love anyone.” Liam didn’t flinch, though something cold coiled in his chest. “She s
ECHOES AT THE DINNERS TABLE
Chapter 8 – Echoes at the Dinner Table The Hunt mansion shimmered beneath golden lights, its marble pillars dressed in velvet and silver. Every chandelier was lit, every glass polished to perfection. From the outside, it looked like a celebration of wealth and harmony — but to Liam Hunt, it was a performance drenched in lies. He adjusted the cuffs of his black suit as he entered the banquet hall. The press cameras flashed, and guests turned to admire the family’s stoic son-in-law, the man whose expression never cracked. Damian stood near the head table, greeting the executives and diplomats who had come to celebrate the Hunts’ “New Partnership Initiative.” The name itself was a farce; Liam knew it was a cover. His gaze swept the room with military precision. Every table had its assigned guests — investors, tech representatives, a few politicians. But Liam wasn’t there to play the host. He was there for the Hunt system’s latest integration presentation, a digital showcase rumored to
THE DIRECTIVE
Chapter 7 – The Directive The city never slept — it only changed its mask. From the window of his car, Liam watched the skyline shift between light and shadow, glass and storm. The night had deepened, but the System’s blue thread still pulsed faintly across his wristwatch, leading him toward something that refused to be buried. He parked at the edge of the financial district, where glass towers rose like silent judges. Inside one of them — the Hunt family’s private data division — the real power of their empire lived. Not in money or land, but in information. Every secret, every deal, every betrayal ran through the Hunt servers like blood through veins. Liam entered using his personal clearance. The biometric scanner recognized his print, his pulse, his tone. The door hissed open. Inside, the room was dark except for the faint hum of hundreds of data cores. Streams of encrypted code drifted across transparent screens, like whispers of hidden lives. He didn’t turn on the lights. H
CROSSED PATHS
Chapter 6 – Crossed Paths The Hunt estate was built to silence emotion. Every corridor gleamed with power — polished marble, tall mirrors, and chandeliers that reflected nothing but the cold perfection of its owners. The scent of cedar and old money lingered in the air, masking the faint trace of fear that always came with living among predators. Liam Hunt moved through the hall like a shadow, every step calculated, every glance unreadable. To most of the world, he was the ideal heir — calm, efficient, ruthless when necessary. But beneath the quiet rhythm of his footsteps, something had begun to fracture. He stopped before a wall-sized portrait of the Hunt family. In the painting, Emma stood beside him, her smile faint but real — the only warmth in the entire frame. His gaze lingered on her eyes, painted in shades of gold and gray. The artist had caught the spark in them, the one that never learned to bow to power. “Still staring at ghosts?” The voice came from behind him — smoo
THE SYSTEM'S SHADOW
CHAPTER 5 — THE SYSTEM’S SHADOW The city was louder today. Engines hummed in the distance, horns bled through the traffic, and the streets shimmered under the afternoon sun. It was the kind of day that felt ordinary — but for Liam Hunt, every sound carried calculation. Every shadow had weight. He sat in his office on the twelfth floor of Hunt Innovations, staring at the data feed streaming across his monitor. The numbers weren’t random anymore. He could feel it — the pattern behind them. Ever since opening his father’s archive, the System’s presence had deepened. It no longer waited to be summoned; it moved with him, quiet and invisible. > [Equation Active: Probability streams engaged. Current stability — 96%.] He glanced at the reflection on his monitor — his own eyes calm, expression unreadable. “Let’s see what happens when we push the equation.” He stood and walked to the elevator. Employees moved aside as he passed, polite and cautious, as though his presence pulled at grav
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