Chapter 517
Author: Youngblood
last update2026-05-09 23:09:59

Gerald's phone buzzed as he was driving back to the city. The autopsy report had come through faster than expected. He pulled over to read it, the glow of the screen illuminating his tired face.

Charles Webb. Cause of death: asphyxiation by hanging. However, ligature marks indicate struggle prior to suspension. Bruising on wrists and neck consistent with restraint. Toxicology: negative for drugs or alcohol. Official cause: homicide.

Gerald sat back, his mind racing. Homicide. Someone had killed
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  • Chapter 538

    "I liberated him." Vane's eyes blazed. "From a family that didn't deserve him. From a life of privilege and arrogance and indifference.""What did you do with him?" Steven's voice was barely a whisper.Vane laughed again, softer this time.The laughter faded, replaced by a silence that was somehow more terrifying. Vane's eyes glittered in the dim light, and his smile twisted into something cruel."The child you're asking about," Vane said slowly, "is already dead."Steven's heart stopped. "What?""You heard me well," Vane shrugged, as if discussing the weather. Vane's smile widened, cruel and satisfied."Christopher. He was the one, Steven. The baby I stole from that hospital. The son you never knew you had."Steven's mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory. Christopher's anger. Christopher's isolation. The way he had always seemed to be searching for something, reaching for something he could never quite grasp.All the while, he had thought that Christopher was Robert's son

  • Chapter 537

    The great hall was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the soft sobs of those who couldn't hold back their tears. The family had retreated inside, the doors bolted, the windows shuttered. The darkness pressed against the estate like a living thing, but inside, there was only grief.Chance stood apart from the others, his back to the room, his face blank. His hands were clasped behind him, his shoulders rigid. He didn't speak. He didn't move. He simply stared at the portrait of his grandfather that hung above the fireplace.Flynn watched him from across the room, his jaw tight. He wanted to say something, to offer comfort, but he knew there were no words that could reach Chance right now.Julia sat in a chair near the window, Philip beside her. Her face was pale, her eyes dry, but her hands trembled. She had lost Steven twice now—once to a coma, now to the darkness. She didn't know if she could survive losing him again.Marta moved among the family, offering quiet words of

  • Chapter 536

    The drive to Steven's house took longer than usual. The darkness pressed against the car windows, thick and oppressive. The headlights cut through the gloom, illuminating twisted trees and cracked roads. Vane's chaos was unraveling the world, but Chance didn't care. He had one destination, one question, one desperate need for answers.He found Steven in his study, staring out the window at the churning sky. Susan sat in the corner, her hands clasped, her face pale."Chance," Steven said, turning. "What are you doing here? The darkness—""I need to ask you something." Chance held up the DNA report. "And I need you to tell me the truth."Steven's eyes flickered to the paper, then back to Chance's face. "What is that?""A DNA test. Between Christopher and me." Chance's voice was cold. "He wasn't my cousin. He was my brother."The room fell silent. Susan's hand flew to her mouth. Steven's face went pale."That's impossible," Steven said."Is it?" Chance stepped closer. "Robert wasn't his

  • Chapter 535

    The estate was quiet in the hours before dawn. The darkness outside pressed against the windows like a living thing, but inside the morgue, the fluorescent lights hummed with cold indifference. Chance stood alone beside Christopher's body, his hands resting on the stainless steel table, his head bowed.He had been there for hours.The others had tried to convince him to rest, to eat, to sleep. But Chance couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Christopher's face—the moment of hesitation, the flicker of something that might have been regret, the darkness swallowing him whole.He died trying to stop Vane. Flynn had said that. But Chance needed to know more. He needed to understand.He looked at Christopher's face—pale, peaceful, younger than Chance remembered. The lines of anger and bitterness had smoothed away, leaving behind a face that could have been his own."Who were you?" Chance whispered. "Who were you really?"The question hung in the air, unanswered.An idea formed—a d

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    Chance looked past Flynn, through the cave opening. The darkness seemed to pulse, to breathe, and to wait."He's already begun," Chance said quietly. "The Obsidian is spreading."Gerald moved to the entrance, staring out at the impossible sky. "We're too late."Chance stood at the cave entrance, the weight of everything pressing down on him. The darkness beyond was absolute, swallowing light, sound, hope. He turned back to look at Christopher, still lying on the cold stone floor, his face pale, his eyes closed forever.All their efforts. All the sacrifices. Sparrow. Viktor. Helsin. And now Christopher.It had all been for nothing.A tear escaped Chance's eye, tracing a slow path down his cheek. He didn't wipe it away."We need to get back home," Flynn said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.Chance shook his head slowly. "But how is that even possible? Look at the sky. We can't even navigate through the darkness."Flynn moved to stand beside him, staring out at the churni

  • Chapter 533

    Wilfreda pulled on her robe and hurried out of her room, her bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. The hallway was dim, lit only by the strange crimson glow filtering through the windows. She didn't know where she was going—only that she couldn't stay alone.She found Priya in the living room, already there, standing by the window, her arms wrapped around herself. Priya turned as Wilfreda entered, her face pale, her eyes shadowed."You felt it too," Priya said.Wilfreda nodded. "The sky—""I know."They stood in silence, the weight of the unknown pressing down on them.Then Janelle appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled, her expression mirroring their own."I tried calling Flynn," Janelle said. "No answer.""Same with Chance," Wilfreda added."This is bad," Priya whispered.The three women stood together, fear and confusion binding them.The front door opened.Marta stepped inside, her face pale, her eyes ancient and tired. She looked at the three women, at the fear in thei

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