MasukSelene’s POV
The storm arrived like it had been hunting us all night. Rain slammed against the service station roof, shaking loose bolts and dust.
Cassius stood in front of me, gun raised, every line of his body coiled tight. He didn’t blink, he didn’t breathe.
Boots crunched outside. Slow, heavy, and deliberate.
My pulse climbed into my throat. “Cassius…that sounds like”
“Livia,” he finished.
Lightning flashed, cutting through the cracked window. Her shadow appeared, soaked, furious, and pacing like a predator waiting for blood.
“Cassius!” she yelled. “You can’t hide her forever!”
Cassius didn’t move. “Stay behind me,” he said without looking back.
I obeyed, even though my legs were shaking hard enough to rattle the shelf behind me.
The door handle shook violently. Then again, even harder.
“Open the damn door!” she screamed.
Cassius’s voice dropped into a deadly whisper. “Quiet.”
The command wrapped around my spine. I held my breath as Livia kicked the door again.
The wood split near the bottom. Another kick. A louder crack.
Cassius grabbed my arm and pushed me deeper behind the shelves. “Do not move.”
My breath trembled out of me. “Cassius…she sounds angry.”
“She’s always angry,” he muttered, “but today she’s dangerous.”
The door shook again, harder this time. The hinges gave a metallic groan.
“Cassius!” Livia shouted. “You’re making this worse!”
Cassius stepped closer to the door, gun angled, jaw flexing. “You betrayed us.”
Silence swallowed the room. Only the storm answered, like it had something to say.
Then Livia laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. It was sharp, bitter, and full of pain she’d held for years.
“You betrayed me first,” she yelled. “For her.”
My breath punched out of my lungs. Cassius didn’t turn around.
“Livia,” he said calmly. “Leave.”
“Leave?” Livia scoffed. “You don’t get it. You never did.”
Lightning split the sky again. Her shadow twisted across the window. Wild hair, clenched fists, and rage radiating off her.
“You think Darius cares about her?” she yelled. “No. He wants you broken. He wants you begging for mercy.
Cassius took one slow step toward the door. “You told him where I’d take her.”
Livia’s voice cracked. “I told him because you stopped listening to me.”
“I didn’t….”
“Yes, you did!” she snapped. “Every time she looked at you, you changed.”
My stomach twisted. Cassius tensed.
“Livia…”
“No,” she said. “Let me finish.”
Rain slammed so loudly it sounded like applause. “You stopped trusting me,” she said.
“You stopped seeing me. You stopped choosing me.”
She exhaled shakily, and for a moment, her voice sounded heartbreakingly human. “You left me behind, Cass.”
Cassius aimed his gun higher. “What did you do?”
Before she could answer, headlights cut through the storm. Another engine roared to a stop outside.
Livia’s voice dropped to panic. “No. No, no, he wasn’t supposed to come yet.”
Cassius froze. “Who?”
Thunder swallowed her answer.
Then, the door suddenly exploded inward, not from Livia, but from a heavy force behind her.
She screamed as she stumbled into the room, soaked and shaking. Her gun flew from her hand and skidded across the floor.
Cassius raised his weapon instantly. “Don’t move.”
Livia lifted her hands, eyes wide, mascara streaking down her cheeks. “Cassius, listen to me. He’s here.”
“Who?” Cassius demanded.
Before she could reply, a new voice drifted through the ruined doorway. Cold, smooth, and unmistakably familiar.
“Still bossing people around, Cass?”
Cassius’s breath hitched. His arm faltered. A tremor ran through him that I’d never seen before.
“No…” he whispered. “That’s not possible.”
A silhouette stepped out of the rain, slow enough to raise every hair on my arms. Tall, broad shoulders, and confident in a chilling way.
Lightning flashed, and my breath caught for a heartbeat.
The man could’ve been Cassius’s reflection. Same jawline, same dark eyes, same presence. But colder, sharper, and wrong.
He smiled. “Miss me, brother?”
Cassius staggered back. “Luca?”
The man spread his arms lazily. “Surprise.”
Livia gasped. “He wasn’t supposed to come yet,” she whispered.
Cassius’s eyes snapped to her. “You knew?”
Panic flashed across her face. “I didn’t know everything,” she said quickly. “He lied to me too.”
“Liar,” Luca said, without even glancing at her.
He only watched Cassius, savoring the moment like dessert.
Cassius lifted his gun again, hand shaking with rage. “You died.”
“You buried what I needed you to,” Luca said. “You always were easy to fool.”
The room pulsed with tension, God, I could feel it in my teeth. Even the storm seemed to lean in, like it wanted to hear everything.
Cassius’s voice was raw. “What do you want?”
Luca stepped forward, water dripping off him. “I want what you stole.”
“And that is?” Cassius growled.
“My life,” Luca said. “My place. My club.”
Cassius’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “You left the club the day you died.”
Luca’s smile faded. Darkness carved into his features. “I didn’t die,” he said softly.
“You killed me.”
The air disappeared from the room, or maybe that was just me forgetting how to breathe. Cassius shook his head.
“What are you talking about?”
“You abandoned me,” Luca said. “You chose the club over me. You chose Carter over me.”
My heart thudded painfully, too loud and too fast, annoyingly human. Cassius looked like someone had punched him in the chest.
“That’s not true,” he said, but his voice was thin and uncertain.
“Yes, it is,” Luca said. “And now I’m taking everything back.”
His gaze slid to me. The way he looked at me, cold, calculating, and curious made my skin crawl.
“And she,” Luca said, “is how I’ll do it.”
Cassius lunged. Rage ripped through him like lightning. “Don’t touch her!”
Luca lifted his gun with terrifying calm. The barrel pointed straight at Cassius’s chest.
Cassius froze. I froze. Even Livia stopped breathing.
“Cassius,” I whispered. My voice barely existed.
Luca smiled slowly. “You see? Weak. Predictable. Easy.”
Cassius clenched his fists. “Let her go, Luca. She has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with this,” Luca said. “She’s the reason you’re slipping. She’s the reason you’re distracted. She’s the reason you’re vulnerable.”
The words hit Cassius like blows. He didn’t deny it.
Luca turned the gun toward me. I gasped and stumbled back.
Cassius roared, “NO!”
He moved but Luca moved faster, shifting the gun back toward him with a smirk.
Livia flinched. “Luca, please stop. Don’t do this.”
“Stop?” Luca laughed. “Why would I stop when I’ve barely started?”
He stepped fully inside the room, water pooling at his feet. The lights flickered above him.
“This,” Luca said, raising the gun again, “is going to be fun.” My stomach dropped. Cassius froze. Livia gasped. One wrong move, and any of us could be dead.
Selene’s POVTrust is a fragile construct. I’ve built mine on observation, leverage, and patterns—but even the strongest architecture can collapse when the foundation betrays you.It began with a simple anomaly. A report flagged on the operations screen, buried beneath routine logs. I almost dismissed it. Almost. But I’ve learned the cost of “almost” in this life.A supply manifest had been altered. Just slightly. A missing shipment. A wrong entry. Nothing obvious. But enough for the ledger to hum in warning. My gut reacted before my mind fully understood the implications.“Cassius,” I said sharply, eyes on the screen. “Check the west wing inventory logs for the last twelve hours. Every entry. Every movement. No exceptions.”He leaned over the console, running the cross-check. His jaw tightened as the first discrepancies surfaced. “Selene… this is deliberate. Someone manipulated the logs, then tried to cover it up.”I pressed my fingertips to my temple. Patterns, anomalies, timing. So
Selene’s POVThe moment you think you’ve gained control, reality reminds you how fragile perception is.Kane’s response didn’t come through a message. It came as a ripple across the compound—small at first, almost imperceptible, like the vibrations of a predator walking over sand. The guards I’d relied on, the networks I’d calibrated, the alliances I’d carefully nudged into alignment—everything shifted subtly, almost surgically, in ways that screamed his signature.Cassius and I were in the operations room when it started. The screens flickered, not due to a technical glitch but because the network was being re-routed. Every sensor, every camera, every communication line was being accessed, scanned, and overwritten. That was Kane’s style—direct, but invisible until the consequences hit.“Not subtle,” Cassius muttered, leaning over my shoulder as the first anomalies popped up on the screens.“I never expected subtle,” I replied. My fingers flew across the console, tracing access points
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Selene’s POVHope is a dangerous word in places like this.It makes people careless.By the time morning came, the compound had stopped pretending it was neutral ground. You could feel it in the way people chose where to stand, who they spoke to, which routes they took through shared spaces. Alignment had sharpened into affiliation.Sides were forming.Not announced.Not declared.But real all the same.Cassius walked with me through the central corridor, his presence no longer questioned by anyone who mattered. Men stepped aside without being told. Doors opened before hands reached for them. The compound was adjusting its posture around us, the way a body adjusts around a healed fracture—stronger, but forever aware of where it once broke.“You see it too,” Cassius said quietly.“Yes.”“They’re waiting for a signal.”“They already have one,” I replied. “They’re just deciding whether to trust it.”We entered the operations room. The map was alive with movement—too much of it. Lines shi
Selene’s POVAlignment is louder than loyalty.Loyalty hides. It waits for orders. It fractures under pressure.Alignment moves without being told.By nightfall, I could feel it happening—not through reports or messages, but through absence. Certain men didn’t linger where they used to. Certain conversations happened without glancing over shoulders. Systems adjusted themselves before commands were issued.The board wasn’t obeying me.It was anticipating me.That realization should have terrified me.Instead, it settled like a weight finding its balance.Cassius noticed before anyone else. He always did.“You didn’t give that order,” he said quietly as we watched the south corridor clear faster than protocol required.“No,” I replied.“They still did it.”“Yes.”He turned to me slowly. “You’re becoming a reference point.”“That’s how this works,” I said. “Eventually.”“That’s not how Kane runs things.”“I’m not Kane.”He studied my face like he was mapping terrain he might someday have







