I walked into the hospital lobby, my phone buzzing in my hand. It was Lia—“Emergency meeting. Get here ASAP. It’s about Rhodes Company.”
I quickly typed back, “On my way.”
As I stepped into the elevator, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a news alert: “Rhodes Company in Mourning: Heiress Emilia Rhodes Dies Unexpectedly.”
I stared at the headline, frozen. Emilia was dead. A strange, numb feeling washed over me. She had been my enemy, the one who made my life a nightmare. But now, she was gone. The relief I thought I’d feel didn’t come. Instead, a hollow emptiness settled inside me.
My mind immediately shifted to Callum. Callum. The man who walked away from me, the one who chose Emilia over me, was now at the center of all this. What would happen now?
I didn’t want to think about it, but I couldn’t stop myself. Callum had always been ruthless, always getting what he wanted. With Emilia gone, I knew the power vacuum would pull him back into Rhodes Company. He’d step into her shoes. He’d be the new CEO. And then, what would that mean for me?
By the time I reached the Rhodes building, the tension in the air was palpable. The buzz of Emilia’s death was everywhere, and I could feel its weight pressing down on me.
Inside the senior executives’ office, Lia looked uneasy. “The board’s appointed Callum Winter Stone as the new CEO.”
I froze. Callum. CEO. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I had worked so hard to get here, but now everything felt pointless. I never wanted to be near him again. The idea of working under him again—of him being in control—felt like everything I’d built would be erased in an instant. I couldn’t go back to that life. Not after everything.
I almost walked out right then, wanting to resign and leave it all behind. But the thought of walking away from everything—especially with Callum in charge—was unbearable.
“Athena, are you okay?” Lia’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I shook my head, the weight of it all sinking in. “I don’t think I can do this anymore. Not with him there.”
Lia’s eyes widened, but I could see she understood. She didn’t need to say anything. I knew what I had to do. The moment Callum was in charge, everything would change. I couldn’t stay.
“I’m done,” I whispered to myself, already knowing what my next move would be.
Lia’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. “Athena, don’t forget—you signed an NDA. A two-year contract. If you back out now, you’ll owe the company a million dollars in penalties.”
The words hit me like a slap. Reality crashed in. A million dollars. I had signed that contract desperate for stability after everything with Callum. But now, I was trapped.
One million dollars.
I’d never imagined I’d be in a position where quitting felt like the only option, only to be chained by a piece of paper. The thought of staying, of working under Callum again, felt suffocating. But the thought of paying that penalty? It felt like a slow death.
A frustrated breath escaped me. My hands tightened into fists at my sides. I had worked so hard to rebuild my life, to secure a future for my family. But this contract—this million-dollar penalty—was a chain I couldn’t escape.
I had no choice. Resigning would ruin me financially. But staying meant going back to the toxicity, to working under Callum again.
I turned away, needing space, and walked to the window. “I’m stuck, Lia,” I whispered. “I hate it. I can’t go back to that life, but I can’t leave either. I’m trapped between two horrible choices.”
Lia stood in the doorway, watching me with sympathy. “I know. But you’ve been through worse. You just have to figure out how to make it work.”
I wanted to scream at her, to tell her it wasn’t that simple. But she was right. I had been through worse. And yet, this... this felt like a new kind of hell. I couldn’t let Callum win again. But at what cost?
Lia’s voice was softer now, but it didn’t make her words any less crushing. “Athena... what about Ryan? How are you going to provide for his medical needs? The worst part is, only Rhodes Company can offer you that kind of salary.”
I froze. Ryan. The reason I had taken this job in the first place. The reason I’d sacrificed everything to make sure he got the care he needed.
I thought about his medical bills. His treatments. Without the salary Rhodes paid me, how could I afford any of it? How could I provide for him?
The weight of it all crashed down on me. The situation was suffocating. I couldn’t walk away. Not when Ryan’s future was on the line.
But the thought of working under Callum again? It felt like being suffocated slowly, every second.
I turned back to Lia, my throat tight. “I can’t lose my job. Not with Ryan’s medical bills.”
Lia nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “I know. It’s a tough spot. But you can’t ignore the fact that this job is the only way to secure Ryan’s future. You need the money. He needs it.”
I wanted to scream at her, but she was right. I had no options left. I had already sacrificed everything for Ryan, and now, I was forced to face the worst decision of my life. Stay for Ryan’s sake, or walk away and risk losing everything.
I sat down heavily in a chair, my hands shaking. “I’m stuck. Completely stuck.”
We made our way to the meeting room, my heart pounding. Emilia’s death still felt unreal, and the uncertainty about what came next weighed heavily on me. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, and no one else was either. The air in the room was thick with tension as I entered, and I could see the same unease reflected in the faces of my colleagues.
The manager was already standing at the front of the room, papers in hand. He gave a brief nod as we all took our seats, and the atmosphere was charged with anticipation.
“We’re here today to discuss the next steps following the passing of our CEO, Emilia Rhodes,” the manager began, his voice breaking the silence. He paused, letting the gravity of the situation settle. “While we mourn her loss, we must move forward and ensure the future of the company.”
I sat up, bracing myself. Who would take over now?
The manager’s next words hit me harder than I expected. “I want to announce that, following Emilia’s burial next week, a new CEO will be taking over Rhodes Company.”
He paused again, letting the moment hang in the air. “His husband, Callum Winter Stone,” he declared.
The room hummed gently, like it was listening to our footsteps. Not just reacting, but anticipating.I walked beside Callum, his hand still folded with mine—familiar, certain now. Not like before, when it had been a question. Now it was an answer.He wasn’t saying much, but then, Callum never needed to. His silences spoke with more truth than most people’s words. The way his thumb brushed against my knuckles as we passed beneath the glowing archways said more than a confession.And yet… I still wanted the words.“Do you think it’s watching us?” I asked softly.Callum looked up, eyes tracing the living circuitry pulsing faintly in the ceiling above. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s… dreaming us.”“Dreaming?”He nodded, a faint smile curving his lips. “Like we’re the story it’s telling itself.”That idea caught something in my chest. I didn’t know if it was fear or comfort. “Then I hope it’s a love story.”His eyes flicked to me—warm, quiet. But intense. “It already is.”My breath caught.For a lo
The vessel didn’t stop singing after we stepped forward.If anything, the song deepened. Grew stranger.It no longer echoed the familiar tones of our past—no childhood laughter wrapped in star-silk, no remembered scents of lunar rain or echo-kisses under the rust moons. This music was new. Dissonant. Unnamed. It vibrated in frequencies that tugged at marrow, not memory.The threshold pulsed beneath our feet—half bridge, half living nerve. Every step we took sent ripples into the world behind us. It didn’t feel like walking forward. It felt like tearing through something ancient and sacred.And then, it opened.Not like a door.Like an eye.A golden slit blinked against the void and stared. At us. Into us.Callum’s hand stiffened in mine.Raven muttered, “Well, that’s not horrifying at all.”Kira stepped beside me, arms outstretched, her aura pulsing in sync with the rhythm. “This is what comes next. The vessel isn’t just memory. It’s a gatekeeper.”“To what?” Callum asked.“To the unr
The echo-space hummed with gentle waves of memory, but beneath its serenity, a note trembled out of key.I didn’t notice it at first. Not while Callum’s fingers rested in mine, our breaths syncing in quiet rhythm. Not while Kira sent glittering nodes of her parents’ laughter into the sky, or when Raven traced constellations with a curious reverence I never thought she possessed. But then the warmth shifted—subtly. Like a symphony one note too sharp.Callum felt it too.His grip tightened. “Do you hear that?”I nodded slowly. “It’s… off.”The harmony we'd earned—fought for—was quivering, like a thread stretched too tight. I sat up, peering around the glowing space. It was still beautiful. Still vast. But like a smile held too long, the effort of it cracked.Behind me, Callum stood, his jaw set. “The vessel’s changing.”“No,” Kira said, already at the basin. “Something is changing.”Glyphs flared to life again—less stable this time. They jittered like broken thoughts. Raven crouched bes
The vessel had no engines. No cockpit. No flight path.It moved like a song remembered—drifting on something beyond propulsion. When we stepped aboard, the floor pulsed beneath our feet like a heartbeat syncing to our presence. Each of us heard something different: Kira claimed it whispered equations; Raven swore it hummed war chants from a language long dead. For me, it was simpler.It whispered Callum’s name.Not as a summons.As a promise.The harmonic vessel accepted our resonance signatures within seconds of boarding. Tendrils of soft light wrapped around our wrists, our throats, like invisible chords tuning an instrument before a concert. It didn't bind—it calibrated. My skin tingled, and beside me, Callum let out a quiet breath.“You feel that?” he asked.I nodded. “It knows us.”He reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Then it knows how stubborn you are.”I smirked. “And how much you love that about me.”Callum didn’t laugh.He just looked at me, his expr
The signal had changed again.Not in tone.In direction.It wasn’t calling anymore.It was waiting.We stood beneath the Archive’s east alcove where the resonance maps were rendered in real-time. Glyphs pulsed on the curved obsidian walls, golden veins tracing patterns that hadn’t existed yesterday. The signal—Sol’s, and others interlaced with it—wasn’t moving forward. It hovered, oscillating, like breath caught between inhale and exhale.Kira frowned. “It’s positioning itself. Not broadcasting to lure us—but anchoring. Like it’s making a door.”I touched the map’s glowing center. “Or a threshold.”Callum’s voice came low beside me. “Then the question is—do we cross it?”We were no longer alone in asking.The others had begun to sense it too: the way the turbines hummed in intervals that matched heartbeat patterns, how the Archive’s light panels dimmed not by time but by emotion. The place was alive in a way it had never been before.Not just listening.Responding.Some thought it was
The signal hadn’t changed.But we had.It came softly, like a memory threading itself through the air—barely perceptible at first. Kira detected it in the harmonics lab, noting a faint anomaly in the background noise of the Archive’s western cliffs. She called it a “ghost harmonic.” Nothing dangerous. Nothing urgent.But Callum heard something else.Not a frequency.A name.Mine.I was in the greenhouse when he found me, hands buried in soil, whispering a story to the vines—an old one about snowfall and warmth. The blue blossoms had unfurled, basking in the gentleness of the words. That’s when his shadow fell across the stones.“You need to hear this,” he said, breathless.I straightened. “Another pulse?”He shook his head. “Something different. Not a warning. It’s… calling you.”My hands were still streaked with soil when I followed him.We didn’t speak on the walk. The wind turbines hummed gently as we passed, their tones shifting like sighs. Callum walked fast, but not in panic—mor