She was never meant to want him. He was never meant to need her. But some shadows are too enticing to ignore… For as long as Isla Montgomery can remember, Liam Sinclair has been more than just her father's best friend—he's been a whispered name in the hallways, a powerful presence in their family conversations, and a haunting figure in her daydreams. Charismatic, cold, and irresistibly out of reach, Liam built an empire from the ashes of betrayal. And now, he's back—richer, harder, and more broken than ever. Isla is no longer the wide-eyed girl he once brushed aside. She’s grown, bold, and dangerously drawn to the man who was always forbidden. But when her father's past begins to unravel, Isla finds herself tangled in a web of secrets, lies, and a truth that could shatter everything. As her world crumbles and Liam’s enemies close in, Isla must decide: Is she chasing the man... or the shadow of who he used to be? Because loving Liam Sinclair could be her greatest rebellion—or her final downfall.
View MoreChapter Twenty-Six – Echoes of the Forgotten The pulse hadn’t stopped. Even as the transport soared back across the ice fields, carrying us toward the illusion of safety in Geneva, Clara’s shard throbbed like a phantom heartbeat in my pocket. I stared out the frost-laced window, watching the tundra vanish beneath clouds, yet my mind remained rooted in the ruins of Lucent. That voice—Venn’s—still echoed inside me. “You are the key… not a hacker… not a rebel… the final vessel.” I’d destroyed the chamber. I'd buried his legacy. But what if I hadn’t erased it all? What if I’d only shaken the surface of something buried much deeper? Liam watched me in silence. I could feel his gaze even through the hum of the rotors and the pressurized hush of the sealed cabin. But he didn’t press, and for that, I was grateful. Back in Geneva, the villa was far too still when we arrived. Richter’s guards scanned the perimeter twice. Tamar immediately shut down all wireless signals. Freya started run
--- Chapter Twenty-Five We landed in Geneva under assumed identities. Richter’s contacts swept us into an off-grid villa nestled in the mountains, its walls reinforced and windows lined with military-grade shielding. But even behind layers of protection, we felt the ripple—an unshakable tension, as if the world had tilted and hadn’t found its balance again. I stared at the encrypted screen on the wall, watching global stock tickers crash and bounce, servers flicker back to life only to be swallowed by blackouts. Scarlett’s purge had caused more than a digital burn. It was an awakening. Liam appeared beside me, jaw tight. “Tamar’s team isolated what’s left of Scarlett’s code.” “And?” “She fragmented, again. But it wasn’t random. It was strategic. Pieces of her splintered across dark net servers, private banks, even embedded in satellites.” “So she’s not gone.” “No. But she’s diluted. For now.” I looked at him. “And Clara’s final lock?” “Still sealed.” I ran a hand through
Chapter Twenty-Four The leak exploded like wildfire. Within hours, global media was in chaos. Military-grade secrets spilled into public servers. Whistleblowers resurfaced. Protests erupted in cities from Berlin to Bogotá. Names long buried were now flashing in headlines—my father’s, Scarlett’s, Liam’s. And mine. I stared at the data spiral unraveling on Freya’s tablet. “They’ll come after us now.” “They already are,” she replied grimly, sliding the screen to reveal a satellite feed. “Scarlett’s proxies aren’t just programs—they’ve hijacked agencies, assets. Digital and flesh.” “Which means she’s not dead,” Liam said, jaw clenched. “She’s not alive either,” Tamar added from across the room. “We’re dealing with a consciousness embedded in code. A synthetic shadow of her mind.” Richter stepped forward, grim as ever. “We need to strike before she stabilizes.” I looked up. “How?” He tapped the map projected on the center table. “A fragment of her was traced to the Zenith Vault
Chapter Twenty-Three The plan was insanity wrapped in necessity. Delphi Base wasn’t just secure—it was a legend in the underground. A place whispered about in codes, in bars, in the screams of hackers who had tried and vanished. But we had no choice. Not if we wanted to finish what Clara started. Richter led us through a map projection that blinked with infrared signatures and rotating security patterns. We sat around a holographic table, the soft hum of the generator the only sound. “Two minutes to breach the outer wall,” Richter said, pointing to a circular gate buried beneath what looked like a dried-up riverbed. “Four minutes to navigate the corridor before motion sensors come online.” “Then what?” I asked. “Then you enter the Cold Room,” he said, eyes hardening. “No signals, no surveillance. Just the core server.” “Perfect,” Tamar whispered. “A dead zone.” “Not perfect,” Liam corrected. “It’s a trap zone. Anything goes wrong in there, and no one can help.” Richter look
--- Chapter Twenty-Two The press labeled it the New Dawn. They painted murals of my mother and whispered stories about how her daughter had undone decades of control in a single night. But reality wasn’t as poetic as they wanted it to be.Scarlett’s body had vanished. One moment she was sprawled on the gravel, her systems fried. The next—gone. No trace. No trail. Not even a heat signature. And Liam couldn’t stop pacing since. “Too easy,” he muttered, pacing the length of the safehouse living room. “It’s never this easy.” “It wasn’t easy,” I snapped, rubbing my temples. “We barely made it out. Half the city’s still wired to her network. And if she’s really gone, why are encrypted pings still being received on her server ports?” Tamar, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sighed. “Because dead monsters echo.” Freya, typing furiously on the tablet, didn’t look up. “Or because the monster isn’t dead. Just hiding. Adapting.” I stood. “Then we adapt faster.” Liam finally stopped pa
--- Chapter Twenty-Two The press labeled it the New Dawn. They painted murals of my mother and whispered stories about how her daughter had undone decades of control in a single night. But reality wasn’t as poetic as they wanted it to be.Scarlett’s body had vanished. One moment she was sprawled on the gravel, her systems fried. The next—gone. No trace. No trail. Not even a heat signature. And Liam couldn’t stop pacing since. “Too easy,” he muttered, pacing the length of the safehouse living room. “It’s never this easy.” “It wasn’t easy,” I snapped, rubbing my temples. “We barely made it out. Half the city’s still wired to her network. And if she’s really gone, why are encrypted pings still being received on her server ports?” Tamar, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sighed. “Because dead monsters echo.” Freya, typing furiously on the tablet, didn’t look up. “Or because the monster isn’t dead. Just hiding. Adapting.” I stood. “Then we adapt faster.” Liam finally stopped pa
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