Author's POV
The news of Kade’s brutal murder had barely cooled when the tides shifted again, this time sweeping in with the weight of law and scandal.It began with the metallic echo of heavy boots against polished tiles — a line of enforcement officers in tactical black storming the pristine glass lobby of the international conglomerate, PENTROS Inc. The receptionist barely had time to press the silent alarm before they’d fanned out with seamless precision, their leader barking orders while holding up a warrant signed and sealed.“Where’s Azar Merek?” the lead officer asked, his voice calm, almost bored, like this was routine — as though arresting one of the wealthiest and most influential shareholders in the Eastern bloc wasn’t a political gamble in itself.Azar had been in the middle of a conference call on the thirty-second floor when the doors slammed open. He didn’t panic — not at first. He calmly removed his glasses, pressed a finger to the comms on his ear,Author's POV The night air was tense, humming with silence like a tightly coiled spring. Every creak of the hospital floor and faint whisper of wind outside felt like a warning. The corridors were eerily still, and although the hospital still operated with nurses and minimal staff, the areas surrounding Declan’s and Nikolai’s rooms had been cordoned off and turned into fortified spaces.The plan had been finalized mere hours ago, and now it was being put into motion with clockwork precision.Killian moved first. He stood beside the real Declan's hospital bed, his face stony, eyes flicking to the time on his wrist. The underground safe house had been prepared ahead of time, hidden deep beneath one of the council’s lesser-known outposts. It had been unused for nearly a decade, but in light of recent betrayals, its obscurity made it the safest option.Two elite guards slipped silently into the room. They nodded at Killian, who was already slipping on a medical gown and adjusting the sli
Rhett's POVI didn’t like the way the air felt.We were deep underground, in the command wing of the facility, but something about the tension in the room was louder than any alarm. Killian stood to my right, stiff and alert. Across from us, three elite operatives hovered over the digital map projected on the war table. And around us, seven more guards lined the walls, fully geared, awaiting my orders.Then came the sound of boots—scuffed, panicked.A pair of guards burst into the room. One was limping, his thigh bleeding through the gauze wrapped hastily around it. The other looked better off, but the grim look on his face told me everything before he even spoke.“We couldn’t get him, sir,” he announced.My stomach twisted.“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice calm but sharp.The injured one stepped forward, teeth clenched in pain. “We reached the safe house in Sector 4. Everything looked quiet. But there were traps—explosives, false footprints, surveillance jammers. We barely made
Author's POVTension weighed heavy in the dimly lit underground chamber where the female assassin paced restlessly. Her boots tapped against the cold cement, the sound rhythmic and sharp, a stark contrast to the low murmurs coming from her team who gathered around a table littered with blueprints, maps, and surveillance photographs. The air was humid, suffocating, but none of them seemed to care. They were used to it—this kind of darkness, the stench of gunpowder and secrets.Her name was Kaelara, though most knew her only as “the Widow.” Tall, sleek, and ruthless, her eyes burned with a feral resolve as she reviewed the plans once more. Her group—composed of elite mercenaries, hackers, and stealth operatives—had been moving from one hidden location to another since their last near-exposure. Every step now had to be calculated.She leaned forward, eyes narrowing on a digital projection of two buildings displayed on a tablet—the twin hospitals where Declan and Nikolai wer
Killan's POVI didn’t even realize how long I had been pacing until the nurse who passed me a few minutes ago was already returning with a fresh set of charts. I paused only when the beep of Declan’s monitor spiked momentarily, his heart rate jumping before settling again. I turned immediately, stepping into the room where he lay with gauze wrapped around his eyes and multiple machines beeping low in the background.Declan still wasn’t talking much, but earlier he managed a full sentence—raspy and broken—but still him. The doctors were going through every scan, running every test possible to understand how his optic nerves had been damaged. Whether it was the injury during the attack or a reaction to the tampered IV drip, no one could tell me yet. And that silence was eating me alive.My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I dragged a palm down my face before picking it up.“This is Killian,” I said without checking the caller ID.“We’ve confirmed it.” The voice bel
Author's POV The room was silent, except for the soft hum of machines and the faint beeping of monitors. Nikolai lay in the middle of it all—still, pale, and unmoving—his chest rising and falling with the gentle aid of the ventilator. Days had turned into weeks since the attack. Since his body had been torn apart by savagery, blood loss, and whatever tampering had followed. And though time crawled painfully forward, his condition remained unchanging. Or so it seemed.Dr. Emil Vargas entered the room with slow, quiet steps. He wasn’t supposed to be on duty that morning, but he couldn’t stay away. Not when Nikolai’s case had become something personal. Something haunting. The young man had endured too much to be stuck in limbo. And Vargas had done all he could medically—but he kept coming back, hoping for a miracle. For something. Anything.He checked the monitors out of habit, even though the data hadn’t shifted in days. Oxygen levels steady. Heart rate normal. Brain acti
Author's POVThe beeping of the monitors was steady. A quiet rhythm echoed through the white-washed hospital room where Declan lay motionless, his body still and pale beneath the clinical sheets. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting sterile shadows on the walls. Then, with a soft groan, Declan stirred.His fingers twitched first. Then his brows furrowed, and a shallow gasp slipped from his lips. A minute passed, then two. The beeping sped up slightly. His eyes opened.But everything was black.He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Still, darkness. Panic began to rise in his chest like a wave, crushing and cold."W-where... what's going on?" His voice cracked, barely audible.A nurse, who had been checking the drip at the far corner of the room, rushed over with wide eyes. "Declan? Declan, you're awake!""Why can't I see?" he whispered, heart hammering against his ribs.She froze for a second too long, then leaned in. "Declan, can you he