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Chapter 22: Ghost Protocol

ผู้เขียน: Richmoor
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-09-10 16:57:14

Ariella’s POV

The moment I stepped into the AV corridor, I knew the misdirection had worked. Damon’s response was predictable: contain, control, suppress. But this time, I wasn’t just poking at the empire. I was pulling its power source from the walls.

I moved fast, two levels beneath the gala stage, passing silent servers pulsed with Thorne Foundation data. Every piece of this event was connected to Damon’s surveillance grid, his guest tracking, even his digital vault. I had four minutes before the internal loop reset and flagged my presence.

Layla’s voice was in my earpiece. “You’ve got a gap in corridor nine, fifteen seconds max. Marcus rerouted the drone camera. Don’t freeze.”

“I never do.”

The door hissed open. I slipped into the control room and shut the panel behind me. I jammed the lock with a signal splitter. The room was empty, just racks of cooling towers and a single master terminal glowing against the dark. Good. We’d prepared for this.

My fingers flew over the keys. The
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  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 25: Fire in the Veins.

    Damon’s POV“Don’t move, Damon.” Jace’s voice cut through. I didn’t blink. My hands hovered above her, useless, too slow to stop what had already happened. The pistol in Jace’s hand gleamed beneath the moonlight, and the look in his eyes wasn’t triumph. It was something older. Personal.“She was never yours to protect,” he said, stepping down the ridge. Each stride is deliberate. Measured. Calculated. Like everything he’d ever done in my shadow. I rose slowly, shielding Ariella with my body. My mind raced, assessing angles, wind, distance, and blood loss. But none of it mattered if she didn’t open her eyes. And Jace knew it. This wasn’t about legacy anymore. It was about the one thing we’d both pretended didn’t exist, love.Roe was hunting us. I could feel it, not just his presence, but his rhythm. He was a man who never missed, never rushed. Every second Ariella and I spent inside the estate was a countdown to impact. We weren’t being followed. We were being cornered.She kept pace b

  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 24: Ashes of the Unspoken.

    Ariella’s POV.Damon was ahead of me, silent. Not a word since we escaped the tower. Not even a glance. But I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the weight of betrayal, of legacies burned into bloodlines neither of us had asked for.We entered the back corridor of the eastern wing, one that hadn’t seen light since the last board seclusion retreat. Dust choked the air, and old paintings of Thorne patriarchs stared down at us like relics of a dynasty we both wanted to destroy for different reasons.“They’re watching,” I said quietly.He didn’t ask who. He already knew.We stopped near the sealed door leading to the backup servers—the last untouched node in the entire estate. Behind that door were the untouched copies. The raw truths. Every encrypted record is too valuable to risk off-site.I placed my palm on the panel. It blinked red. Damon stepped beside me and did the same. It turned green.The door hissed open. Inside, rows of mirrored servers glowed like embers. The embers we

  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 23.The Inheritance of Bloo.

    Damon's POVMy car tires crunched on gravel as I pulled up to the old Thorne Estate. The silence there was heavy. It thickens with time, betrayal, and things we never buried deep enough. The iron gates opened at my fingerprint. That still worked. At least some legacies stayed loyal.I walked past statues eaten by moss and chandeliers hanging like relics from a godless temple. No nostalgia. No hesitation. I wasn’t here to remember; I came to cut out the rot.The great hall swallowed my footsteps in echo. Dust floated in shafts of dead light. My father’s study room door stood sealed, with a biometric lock, now useless. I dropped to one knee, sliced the panel with my blade, and rerouted power from my watch’s battery. The lock sparked. Clicked.I walked in. The room smelled of old leather and steel secrets. Shadows stretched across portraits of dead men who once thought themselves kings. I didn’t look up. They had nothing left to say. I crossed the floor, stopping at the northern wall. B

  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 22: Ghost Protocol

    Ariella’s POVThe moment I stepped into the AV corridor, I knew the misdirection had worked. Damon’s response was predictable: contain, control, suppress. But this time, I wasn’t just poking at the empire. I was pulling its power source from the walls.I moved fast, two levels beneath the gala stage, passing silent servers pulsed with Thorne Foundation data. Every piece of this event was connected to Damon’s surveillance grid, his guest tracking, even his digital vault. I had four minutes before the internal loop reset and flagged my presence.Layla’s voice was in my earpiece. “You’ve got a gap in corridor nine, fifteen seconds max. Marcus rerouted the drone camera. Don’t freeze.”“I never do.”The door hissed open. I slipped into the control room and shut the panel behind me. I jammed the lock with a signal splitter. The room was empty, just racks of cooling towers and a single master terminal glowing against the dark. Good. We’d prepared for this.My fingers flew over the keys. The

  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 21: The Queen in the Shadows.

    Damon’s POVThe gala was a storm contained in crystal and gold. Thorne banners hung like silent sentinels. My focus was control. Every movement, every whisper, every handshake was data; someone new was testing boundaries.She wasn’t Ariella. Not tonight. The new operative, Freya, had slipped into my circle with precision. She laughed at the right moments, lingered in conversation, and carried herself as if she belonged. My instincts recognized the cut before it touched the skin.I watched her beside Nathaniel Roe, gray eyes, sculpted jaw, presence that commanded fear. Freya’s intrusion was unsanctioned. She didn’t flinch, didn’t stumble. Audacity made her dangerous.Marcus approached. “She’s on your timeline, sir. Someone’s feeding her information.”“Someone,” I echoed. Fear wasn’t an option. Control was survival.The lights dimmed as a speech began. I mapped exits, cameras, and guard rotations. Freya’s path intersected mine, a shadow on the periphery. She leaned toward Roe, whispered

  • Between Her Shithead And The Wrong Brother    Chapter 20. Shadows Don’t Lie.

    Ariella’s POVI didn’t wait for dawn. There wasn’t time anymore.By 4:15 a.m., I was in the basement of the old boutique Layla used to manage, now converted into one of our fallback data points. The drive Damon tried to wipe wasn’t just corrupted; it had been mirrored, and the original metadata had slipped through before the encryption collapsed.I uploaded the file.There are frames inside a buried subfolder. Damon, not in Zurich, but Tangier. And beside him? The man from the coin drive. Tall. Gray eyes. Surgical coldness in his expression. They weren’t allies. They were partners.“Name,” I said aloud.The facial match engine ran slowly, then displayed a result: Nathaniel M. Roe, former paramilitary contractor turned asset broker. Sanctioned. Blacklisted. Alive, apparently.My stomach clenched. Roe wasn’t a shadow. He was a ghost. The kind the government didn’t claim, and no one crossed. Why Damon?I called Marcus.He answered without a greeting. “I’m listening.”“Roe. Tangier. Four

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