THE TRASH SON-IN-LAW'S ULTIMATE SYSTEM

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 — 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.