The Contract Ex-Husband of Wealthy Widow

Chapter 24: Darma's Fury

"Damn, they're here already?" Raka whispered, his burner phone pressed to his ear. On the other end, Elena’s voice sounded tense. "Forget how. They’re there, Raka. Now!"

The apartment walls vibrated. A loud explosion echoed from the floor below, followed by the sound of shattering glass. They don't exactly knock, do they? Raka swallowed hard, his heart racing like an engine spinning out of control. That fear was back—cold and lethal—but this time, it was laced with rage. This is only the beginning of the chaos I’ve created.

"Run, Raka! Now!" Elena commanded. "Your office at Chronos is already surrounded too. Do not go back there."

Raka scanned the temporary apartment, which now felt like a death trap. He had already packed a small backpack with the essentials. He heard heavy footsteps in the corridor, drawing closer. Darma wasn't playing games. And he hadn't come alone.

"Lena! Where is she?" Raka asked, his voice catching. He needed more than just a warning.

"She’s already there," Elena replied, "behind the scenes. She’s going to help you. I’ve already mapped out an evacuation route. Don’t panic."

A massive blow struck Raka’s apartment door. The hinges groaned hideously. There was no more time. Raka grabbed the handle of the rear emergency exit Elena had pointed out to him. He slipped out into the dark emergency stairwell, the pounding on his front door growing deafening.

He sprinted down the stairs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. At every turn, he imagined Darma waiting for him. Was this the Architects' plan? To make me run like a rat in a maze? His paranoia was reaching a breaking point.

A few days later, Raka was living on the run. The city felt like a giant cage. He moved from one safe house to another, all provided by Elena’s network. Every gust of wind, every shifting shadow, made his heart leap. He knew Darma and his men were like hounds, sniffing out his trail.

In one of the grimy hideouts—a small flat with barred windows—Raka watched a news broadcast. Ms. Thorne’s face appeared on the screen, undergoing intense interrogation by the authorities. The woman looked completely shattered; her eyes were red, her hair disheveled. Raka felt a strange sense of empathy.

"How does it feel, whistleblower?" Lena’s voice crackled in his earpiece, her tone cheerful, as if she were watching a comedy. "Seeing your ice queen Ms. Thorne finally melt?"

Raka snorted. "She’s just a pawn, Lena. Just like I used to be."

"True," Lena replied. "But the Architects won't care. To them, she’s become a liability. They’ll toss her out like trash." There was a brief pause. "But Darma... he is beyond furious. You’ve made his life a little more... interesting."

"By 'interesting,' do you mean 'he wants to strangle me to death'?" Raka asked, remembering Darma’s punch.

Lena chuckled. "Exactly! He’s been looking for you in every rat hole in this city. He’s even started sniffing around us. The Ghost network."

Raka froze. "What? He’s hunting Ghost? How?"

"Precisely. The Architects are putting immense pressure on him. They don’t like media surprises. They know this isn't just the work of one man," Lena explained. "Darma knows there’s something bigger behind all this. And he suspects there’s a 'ghost' playing behind the scenes."

Raka felt a chill. Was Lena in danger too? He felt a strange pang of concern. This invisible woman, with her dark sense of humor, had become a sort of ally—even a friend.

"You need to be more careful, Lena," Raka said, his tone serious.

"Oh, sweetheart, I’m always careful," Lena replied, her tone turning flirtatious. "I’m a ghost, remember? I’m much harder to catch than a handsome ex-executive like you."

Raka felt his cheeks flush slightly. Sweetheart? In the middle of all this chaos, Lena could still make him feel... a little awkward. It was absurd, but also a slight relief.

"Listen, Raka," Lena continued, her voice returning to business. "The Architects are shifting their focus. Darma and his team are now also tracking unusual digital signals that could lead to our trail. That means the pressure on you has eased slightly, but it doesn't mean you're safe."

"Does that mean I have a window?" Raka asked. He knew what he had to do.

"A window for what? Sending another love letter to Julianna Vance?" Lena chuckled. "You know, I’m starting to think you’re falling for her."

Raka flinched. Falling in love? He hadn't even thought about it. But Julianna... that woman. Her intelligence, her courage at the press conference, even her reclusive personality. There was something drawing him in. Something that made him want to protect her, beyond the requirements of the mission.

"Don't be ridiculous," Raka shot back, trying to sound indifferent, but he knew Lena could read his voice. "I just... feel responsible."

"Of course," Lena mocked. "A knight in shining armor, covered in bruises from Darma. How heroic."

"Then what? We just let the Architects destroy Julianna?" Raka asked, his anger rising again. He couldn't forget Bianca’s desperate face, or Mrs. Anya’s stoic gaze. Julianna would not be the next one. Not if I can help it.

"Elena has already thought of that," Lena answered. "Julianna Vance has shown she has a fighting spirit. She needs direct support, Raka. But the Architects have already made her a primary target. Darma is undoubtedly watching her every move."

"So, we contact her?" Raka asked.

"Not us. You," Lena said. "She trusts you, Raka. That little note of yours already planted the seed. Now it’s time to water it."

Elena contacted Raka through a secure channel. "Julianna Vance is showing incredible nerve, Raka. She is an invaluable asset to us. But she is also in grave danger. Darma will try to silence her, perhaps even before the Architects can bring her under control."

"I know," Raka said. "I have to see her. I can't leave her alone."

Elena was silent for a moment. "It’s dangerous. But perhaps necessary. Lena can help you find a gap in her security. But remember, Raka, this isn't a simple mission. This is a fight for her soul, and the Architects won't let her go easily."

Raka pictured Julianna Vance. Her sharp eyes. Her fragile yet burning determination. She didn't deserve this. A strange impulse—not just from the mission, but from something deeper—pushed Raka forward. He could no longer run from Darma. He could no longer hide. He had to face the Architects head-on.

"I’m going to see her," Raka said, his voice thick with resolve. "Tell her to be ready. Tell her I’m coming."

Lena’s voice returned to his earpiece. "Are you sure? This is high risk. Darma could already be waiting there."

"I don’t have a choice," Raka replied. It was no longer about choice. It was about necessity. He felt a strange surge in his heart—a mix of worry and a desperate urge to protect her. Maybe Lena is right. Maybe I am a bit of a romantic.

Elena nodded on the phone screen. "Very well. Lena will find the safest meeting location. She’ll give you detailed instructions. Don’t make a mistake, Raka. Julianna Vance’s life—and perhaps the future of us all—depends on you."

Raka looked out the window at the city, magnificent yet treacherous. He knew the Architects would do anything to stop them. Darma would be an inevitable shadow. But in the midst of that chaos, Raka felt hope. A hope tied to Julianna Vance.

"Of course. I’ll see her," Raka repeated, more to himself than anyone else.

This was no longer about escaping. This was about stepping forward, into the fire. However, deep inside, a more profound question nagged at him: Was this meeting just for the mission, or was fate leading him toward something much more... personal? Raka knew he had to meet Julianna, not just as an ally, but as someone who could no longer ignore his feelings.