LOGINChapter 56Valencia’s POVThe tranquility of the garden still clung to my skin like the scent of crushed jasmine, but the moment I stepped back into the vaulted marble foyer of the manor, the air changed. The peace I had found with Mia was a fragile glass ornament, and I could feel the vibrations of the house trying to shatter it.I had just handed Mia over to a much more subdued, trembling nanny when I turned the corner toward the west gallery. The shadows here were long, stretched out by the dying sun into jagged fingers that seemed to reach for my throat. I didn't hear him move. I didn't hear the scuff of a boot or the rustle of a suit. Akeem simply materialized from the darkness of a recessed alcove, his massive frame blocking the path to my study.I stopped. My heart didn’t race, Silas had trained that reflex out of me but a cold, calculating stillness settled over my limbs."Akeem," I said, my voice smooth as polished stone. "I thought you were stationed at the perimeter.""The
Chapter 55Valencia’s POVThe morning after the "Last Supper" felt like the world had been scrubbed raw. The air in the Rossi Manor was unnervingly still, the kind of silence that usually follows a landslide. Antonio was heavily sedated in the west wing, his pride and his body equally broken, and the Syndicate vultures had scattered to digest the digital poison I’d fed them.For the first time in months, the "Titan" was silent. My mind wasn't calculating offshore transfers or decryption keys. Instead, my feet moved of their own accord toward the nursery.I stopped at the doorway. Mia was sitting in a sunbeam in the middle of the white plush rug. She looked small, frighteningly small but the waxy, grey pallor of the fever had been replaced by a faint, healthy flush. She was surrounded by a chaotic spread of crayons and heavy parchment."You’re working hard," I said softly.Mia didn't flinch. She didn't scream. She looked up, her dark curls, so much like my own tumbling over her shoulde
Chapter 54Silas’s POVThe silence of Blackwood Manor was not peace. It was the pressurized stillness of a tomb before the resurrection.I sat in the command center, the only light provided by the wall of monitors that acted as my windows into the world I was systematically dismantling. My hand, wrapped in a linen bandage that was slowly turning a dark, rusty crimson, throbbed with every heartbeat. I didn't mind the pain. The pain was a tether. It reminded me that I was still anchored to the physical world while my mind was thousands of miles away, prowling through the hallways of a cursed estate in Italy.On the central screen, the feed from the Rossi Manor played in high-definition silence. I had watched her. I had watched my Valencia, my masterpiece, the woman I had forged in the dark and christened in the fire tear that house apart from the inside. I had watched her play the grieving mother, the devoted bride, and finally, the operatic victim. I had seen her break Antonio Rossi,
Chapter 53Valencia’s POVThe weight of the emeralds around my neck felt like cold, encircling fingers. I stood before the mirror in my suite, adjusting the silk of a dress the color of spilled Chianti. My face was a masterpiece of porcelain perfection, but behind the eyes, the Titan was shifting, calculating the trajectory of every soul in this house.Tonight was the endgame.I had orchestrated a celebration dinner, a homecoming for Antonio’s recovery and a thank you to the Syndicate for their patience. But the guest list was a tactical map of Antonio’s impending ruin. I had sent the invitations through Jax’s ghost-servers, ensuring they looked like desperate, last-minute pleas for peace from Antonio himself.I walked into the grand dining hall. The table was a sea of crystal, silver, and blood-red roses. "Is everything ready, Maria?" I asked, my voice echoing against the vaulted ceilings."The wine is decanting, Valencia," Maria whispered, her eyes darting toward the door. "But Ant
Chapter 52Jax’s POVThe basement of the Rossi Manor didn't just store vintage Barolo; it stored the expiration dates of empires.I sat in the dark, the only light provided by the neon-blue hum of my dual-screen deck and the frantic, rhythmic blinking of the bypass module. The air down here was thick with the scent of damp stone and the metallic tang of high-end circuitry. Above me, the Titan was playing mother, nursing a sick child and rediscovering her soul.But down here? Down here, I was dissecting the devil.The Rossi Master Safe, The Altar had been a bitch to crack. Even with the biometric loop I’d lifted from Antonio’s study, the secondary firewall was a recursive nightmare. It was designed to wipe its own drive if it felt even a hint of a brute-force attack. But Valencia had underestimated one thing: humiliation is the greatest overclocking tool in existence.Every time my fingers faltered on the keys, I felt the phantom sting of her hand on my forehead. A pat. Like I was a p
Chapter 51Valencia’s POVThe black envelope sat on the mahogany desk like a live grenade. I am always watching.The words weren't just a reminder of Silas’s reach; they were a confirmation of my own desecration. If Silas was watching, if he had sent that photo then the man in the garden, the man who had ripped through my defenses and filled me with a terrifying, primal heat, was not him. It was Akeem.The realization hit me like a physical blow, a wave of nausea and heat rolling through my gut. I had moaned Silas’s name into the neck of a guard. I had offered up my soul to a ghost, only to have it claimed by a wolf. My skin felt like it was crawling, the phantom sensation of Akeem’s hands on my hips suddenly feeling like a brand of shame and, more disturbingly, a craving I couldn't kill.I was falling apart. The Titan was cracking. I was trapped in a house of mirrors where every reflection was a lie, and the only truth was the cooling ache between my legs.I was about to reach for
Chapter 8Isabella's POV The morning light at Blackwood Manor didn't creep in; it pierced. It sliced through the heavy velvet curtains like a scalpel, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air of my gilded cage. I lay still, my body a map of healing nerves and pulsing aches, listening to the
Chapter 10Valencia's POVMy body was a temple of agony. Every muscle fiber screamed in protest as I moved through the dim corridors of Blackwood Manor, each step a deliberate act of defiance against the torment wracking my frame. The bruises from the prison escape pulsed with a deep, throbbing he
Chapter 14Valencia's POV The rain in the city was a coordinated performance, as if the heavens themselves had been bribed by the Rossi PR machine to provide the perfect backdrop for a tragedy.On the massive LED wall in the Library, the live broadcast flickered with high-definition grief. I sat
Chapter 12Valencia's POVThe aftermath of my digital arson was still glowing on the monitors when Silas led me down a spiral staircase I hadn’t noticed before. The air changed as we descended, losing the scent of sandalwood and old paper, replaced by the sharp, ozone tang of high-voltage cooling







