2025-09-19 20:21:44The dagger cut through the air with a whisper, gleaming under the blue flames. Gasps tore from the Council as death flew toward Ethan’s chest. But Ethan did not flinch.
His hand shot out like lightning, fingers snapping shut around the blade just inches from his heart. The sound of metal grinding against flesh echoed through the silent hall. The Council froze.
Ethan’s palm bled, crimson dripping down his wrist, but his grip did not loosen. He raised the dagger slowly, his dark eyes locking onto the hooded figure in the corner. “You’ll have to try harder,” Ethan said coldly.
The room erupted. “What, impossible!” one cousin cried.
“He caught it? With his bare hand?” another whispered in horror.
“Did you see his speed?” Aunt Sylvia’s eyes widened, fury mingling with disbelief.
The hooded assassin tilted his head, his voice low and amused. “So the rumors were true. You’ve been trained.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. No one was supposed to know. Richard sneered, though his eyes betrayed unease. “Trained? What nonsense is this?”
The Patriarch’s cane struck the floor. Crack. “Enough.” His voice rolled like thunder. His sharp gaze fixed on Ethan. “So… you did not waste your years among the commoners after all.”
Ethan’s silence was answer enough. The assassin chuckled. “Interesting. Very interesting. But strength alone will not save you.”
He stepped forward, shadows clinging to his frame like smoke. “The world outside this estate does not play by rules, boy. If you inherit, every hand will be raised against you. Every ally will turn snake. Every lover will be a blade to your throat.”
Vanessa’s face flashed in Ethan’s mind. The laughter. The humiliation. The sting of betrayal. His hand tightened on the dagger. “And what are you?” Ethan demanded.
The hooded man bowed mockingly. “A messenger. A test. But if you want answers…” His voice lowered to a hiss. “…come find me.”
And then, before the guards could move, he vanished. One moment there, the next, only smoke curling in the cold air. The Council erupted in chaos.
“This is outrageous!” Richard barked.
“He breached the estate!” a cousin shouted.
“Who sent him?” Sylvia demanded, her eyes darting nervously.
The Patriarch raised his hand, silencing them all. His gaze never left Ethan, who still stood bleeding, dagger in hand, breathing hard but steady.
“You caught it,” the old man murmured. “Just like your father once did.”
Ethan’s head snapped up. “My father?”
The Patriarch leaned heavily on his cane, his eyes unreadable. “Enough for tonight. The trial is done. The heir has proven himself.”
The Council erupted in protests, but the Patriarch’s voice cut them down. “Tomorrow, the world will know Ethan Cole. Pray you are wise enough to stand with him instead of against him.”
The torches dimmed, casting the hall in deep shadows. The Council retreated, muttering, eyes filled with calculation and fear.
Ethan remained where he was, his wounded hand throbbing, the dagger still clenched tight. His mind burned with questions, about the assassin, about his father, about the storm that was clearly coming.
As the hall emptied, the Patriarch stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Remember this night, Ethan. You think Vanessa’s betrayal was the wound that shaped you? No. This” he gestured to the bloody dagger “is only the first cut.”
Ethan’s eyes hardened, the weight of the seal heavy in his pocket. He was no longer the humiliated boy on his knees. He was something far more dangerous
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Chapter 20A– THE HEIR WHO VANISHED
The morning headlines hit like a pulse through the city: Breaking: Ethan Vale, heir to the Vale Conglomerate, missing after reported jet malfunction over the Atlantic.No crash site. No debris. No distress call. Just silence.The Vale Building became a fortress overnight. Security swarmed the marble lobby, reporters camped outside, and stock tickers flashed red across every financial network.Inside the executive boardroom, Margot Delane paced slowly, phone pressed to her ear. Her tone was measured, controlled, the sound of someone holding chaos by the throat.“No, there’s no confirmation,” she said. “Yes, the aircraft vanished from radar. We’re coordinating with Maritime and Aerospace authorities.” She paused. “No comment on succession yet. We maintain stability first.”She hung up, exhaled sharply, and turned to Arthur Vale. Arthur looked like he hadn’t slept.His tie was crooked; his eyes were hollow. “He was on that jet, Margot. You saw him leave.”Margot’s voice was soft but sha
Chapter 19B– THE HALCYON CLUB
Night draped the city in mirrored glass and neon. The Halcyon Club sat hidden beneath one of the oldest hotels downtown, no sign, no entry list, no public record.Only the card Margot had given him, still warm in his pocket, humming faintly like a heartbeat. Ethan approached the unmarked door. A concierge in a crisp black suit looked up from behind the desk.“Invitation?”He handed over the card. The man didn’t scan it or swipe it , he simply placed it on a small silver dish. The metal flared once, faint light rippling across the card’s surface.“Welcome, Mr. Vale,” the man said quietly. “Your table awaits.”The elevator descended soundlessly, deeper than it should have. When the doors opened, the air felt different, cool, pressurized, humming with something unseen.The club was beautiful in a way that money couldn’t buy, vaulted marble ceilings, chandeliers casting dim gold, and a hundred whispered conversations stitched through the air like a symphony of secrets.No laughter. Ju
Chapter 19A– SMOKE AND MIRRORS
Reality itself had been edited. He turned back. “And if it doesn’t disappear?”Arthur hesitated. “Then the Game plays for keeps.”The word slipped out naturally, unconsciously, like something fed into his mind. The entire room went still. Margot’s pen froze mid-air.The others blinked, confused, as if they’d heard the word but couldn’t process it. Ethan’s heartbeat quickened.“What did you just say?”Arthur blinked. “What? I said, the press. The game of politics.”“No,” Ethan said, voice low. “You said the Game.”Arthur frowned. “Did I? Must’ve been, slip of the tongue.”But his hand trembled when he reached for his glass.The aide entered. “Sir, emergency call from the Continental Council. Line four.”Arthur snatched the receiver, his voice shaking. “Yes? Yes, I understand. Of course, we’ll comply.”When he hung up, he was pale. “Orders from the top. We’re to cease all internal investigation. Effective immediately.”Margot’s lips curved. “Then it’s done.”Ethan studied her. Her smi
Chapter 18B– The First Player
The mirror world shook. Fractures raced across the glass floor like lightning veins. Lucien backed away from the emissary’s image, the black coin in his palm now flickering like a dying star.“You broke it,” he hissed. “You tore a hole straight through the Ledger!”Ethan didn’t move. Every reflection showed a different version of him, one bleeding, one crowned, one burning. He felt their thoughts flicker through his head like static.Lucien lunged again, blade first, desperation overtaking grace. “If I end you, it resets!”Ethan raised both coins. Light and shadow collided mid-air, erupting in a burst that swallowed them whole. Glass shrieked. Every mirror exploded outward, shards spinning like comets.Lucien screamed, his own coin melting into his hand. “You’re the anomaly! The Game’s been watching, ”The words were ripped away in the detonation. For a heartbeat Ethan saw everything, Lucien’s face twisting, the emissary smiling in the reflection behind him, the city’s skyline bleedin
Chapter 18 – The First Player
The city at midnight was a mosaic of light and distance, glass towers burning with white fire, traffic veins glowing far below. Ethan stood on the penthouse terrace of the Astra Lounge, the wind cutting cold against his collar.He shouldn’t have been there. Every instinct screamed trap. But the message had come again.COME ALONE. ROOFTOP. ONE QUESTION, ONE ANSWER.No name. No signature. Only the faint watermark of a crown and dagger in the background of the text.He palmed the coins inside his jacket pocket. They pulsed softly, heartbeat rhythm. Since that night with the emissary, they’d grown restless, flaring whenever danger neared. Tonight they burned like fever.A voice floated from the shadows by the glass railing. “You’re punctual. That’s good. Players who arrive late tend not to leave at all.”Ethan turned. The man leaning against the railing could have stepped out of an advertisement, late thirties, silver streak through his dark hair, tailored suit.But there was something t
Chapter 17 – Fallout of the Broken Rule
The silence after the emissary vanished was deafening. No hum of air conditioning. No city traffic bleeding through the glass. Just the shallow, ragged breaths of Ethan and the man sprawled on the carpet.The survivor’s eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, darting from the door to the shattered curtains to Ethan himself.He was pale, sweat pouring down his forehead, blood soaking the sleeve where the dagger’s phantom cut had opened flesh. Ethan crouched beside him, the coins burning still in his grip.“Hey,” Ethan said, forcing his voice low, steady. “You’re alive. You’re safe.”The man recoiled as if struck, scrambling backward on his elbows until his shoulders slammed into the wall. “Safe? SAFE?!” He jabbed a trembling finger at Ethan. “That thing dragged me into this room, out of nothing! You called it!”“I didn’t call it,” Ethan said sharply. “It came for me. You were part of its game.”“Game?” the man spat, hysteria bubbling under his words. “You think that was a game?!”Ethan’s
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