2025-09-26 21:39:13
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The Decoy Drop
The safehouse smelled of old coffee and stress. None of us had slept since Crane’s broadcast. His smirk had been burned into our retinas: a live demo of the vault in forty-eight hours. That meant he was dragging his secret into the spotlight, daring anyone—especially us—to stop him.Lena paced like a caged animal, her hair messy from hours in front of her screens. She jabbed at the holo-wall where schematics glowed. “We need to buy time. He thinks he controls the stage? Fine—we build him a fake one.”Marcus leaned against the counter, arms crossed, bulk filling the corner. “Fake heist? He’ll smell it.”“He doesn’t have to believe it,” I said, rubbing the grit from my eyes. “He just has to react. Panic him, scatter his men, pull eyes in the wrong direction. While he chases smoke, we get closer to the fire.”Evie stretched across the couch, legs swinging, a sly smile curling her lips. “So what’s the bait? You want Crane to think we’re stupid enough to hit one of his jewel depots?”“That
Heartbreak Hack
The safe house was more silent than gunfire. Lights shone upon Lena’s face on screens, but her gaze was not on them—it was far away, drowned in the revelation that had just shattered her world.“Dorian,” she whispered again, as if saying his name aloud might make it less true. “Sophia’s lover… it’s him.”Marcus cursed under his breath and closed a drawer. “Should’ve guessed. Bastard’s everywhere.”I remained silent, observing Lena’s hands shaking. She’d spent years of her life constructing armor from steel made out of code and sarcasm and late-night coffee. Tonight that armor had split. It wasn’t anger — that would have been easier. She looked hurt.“Lena—” I started.“Don’t.” Her voice shook. “Don’t try to make it neat. I allowed myself… I convinced…” Her hand danced to her forehead. “I think he caught me once- Dorian that is. As not the hacker, as not just a tool. And all this time—Sophia.”Her laugh was thin, bitter. “Even bad guys have a type, I guess.”I covered the room before I
The Voice Clone
The apartment shrank as the machines hummed hot, each fan spinning and monitor hurling green and red onto Lena’s pale skin. She hadn’t said anything in twenty minutes — just clicks, taps, code streaking like lightning. Marcus paced the furthest wall, nervously stomping his toes, while I braced myself against the counter and watched her grind herself to dust.Finally, Lena took off her headset and exhaled. “She speaks.”The speakers crackled. A smooth-as-silk woman’s voice flowed into the room: “Access granted. Welcome home.”Sophia.Or rather, Lena’s Sophia.For a moment, nobody breathed. Marcus whistled low. “Damn, that’s… uncanny.”“It’s decent,” Lena confessed, keeping an eye on the waveform spiking up and down across part of his screen. “Too good. The vault’s fail-safe checks tone, frequency, modulation/we’re golden. But—”She pressed another key. The voice played again, same words but this time a sharp stutter truncated the middle. “Access gra—nnn—ted. W-W-Welcome…”The room went
Evie’s Gambit
They’d always said that fear smells the way hot metal and old cigarettes do. Now, standing on the roof with Lena and Marcus, watching the city breathe neon beneath us, I knew that I’d been wrong; fear had a sound, and it was only discovered one night when everything Adrian said flashed into static — the tinny chirp of a disposable phone cutting out mid-sentence; his voice expanding to fill every corner of the room that once never held him.Lena’s subterfuge arcade leaned the alley below in thermal blips and a dozen CCTV feeds, but the one she cared about was gnarled and jittery: It was a not-so-real-time feed from a cheap camera Dorian liked to wave around when he wanted to humiliate you. It showed Evie for three seconds, hands tied behind her back, hair loose and mascara smeared down her face before it cut out. For three seconds there was something in her face that did not belong — no panic, exactly. Something tight, practiced. I swallowed bile.“Where did he take her?” I asked, beca
Love and Lies
The weak light of a single bulb threw shadows across the new safehouse, a run-down loft above New Avalon’s waterfront warehouses. The air felt thick with dust and the low hum of the city below. Lena was curled against me on a worn mattress, her red-brown hair spread over my chest, her breath warm on my skin. My ribs ached from the chase at the gala, and my shoulder stung from a bullet wound, but her touch – gentle, constant – pushed it all away. The tracker we'd found in her equipment last night, Dorian's secret control, had shaken her up, and I was holding her tight, like she was the only thing keeping me together. Her hazel eyes met mine, vulnerable yet strong, and I kissed her, slowly and deeply, tasting salt and worry. The vault's important information, Sophia's meeting with the President, Dorian's games – they were all still out there, but right now, it was just us, stealing a moment in a world that felt like it was falling apart."I'm scared, Jax," she whispered, her voice crack
Presidential Games
We were in front of the Sapphire Pavilion, a fancy venue on the waterfront, hosting a charity event packed with the city's influential people – and Sophia Laurent, the key to unlocking the vault's voice-activated system. Dorian's video, showing her meeting with the President and hinting at a "delivery" and "global influence," made me uneasy. The vault wasn't just about valuables; it held a national secret, something important enough to involve the highest leader in the country. My ribs still ached from the skyscraper fire, and Lena's kiss in the fish market hideout lingered in my mind, but her silence since then, her avoiding my gaze, told me she was struggling with the possibility of a traitor in our midst. Evie watched me from the van, her blonde hair tied back, her smile sharp and knowing, while Marcus was on lookout, his bandaged shoulder tense, his PTSD a constant, inner battle. I was about to step into Sophia's world, and the situation had become incredibly dangerous."Jax, Soph
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