LOGINDANIEL
There was tension so thick in the air, it was as if one could cut it with a knife. Rebel had been a whirlwind for three months since she arrived in my life, sneaking out, evading guards, and testing every limit I set. But I did think that finally she'd begun to understand that she wasn't a prisoner; her safety was simply not up for negotiation. Her previous organization had been brutal, and the coded signals we had intercepted had guaranteed us that her latest mission was to kill me. The irony was that she did not even realize it, or at least did not show it. Her movements of the past couple of days had been unusual. Silent. Too silent. It was not like her, and I did not think so. My second-in-command, Klaus, had discovered a lead: a man named Michael had been desperately trying to reach her. Only the name had made her pull further inside herself, blank-eyed into space. Michael was her adopted father, Klaus's investigation revealed. But I could sense that it wasn't the entire story. I couldn't put my finger on the dynamic between them, but there was more. There was a hint of fear and reverence in the way her expression tightened at his name. And then there was our first genuine fight. She had visited a clinic with Catya to take birth control pills. I felt insulted by the suggestion, it was not her choice to make on her own. She didn't wish to risk an intimate relationship since she didn't want to deal with the depth of her emotions so I exchanged her pills for vitamins. It was a deliberate betrayal, but in my mind, it was justified. If she ever found out the truth, hell would rain, but I just could not help myself. The fight with Michael was inevitable, although I hadn't expected it to go the way it did. On the way back from town, we were halted by a black shiny motorbike. A tall, fair-skinned man in his late forties got off the horse and pointed a revolver at my car. Rebel's body tensed next to me, and her breath was stuck in her throat. I wished mentally for her to remain calm as I reached across and squeezed her hand hard. Bloodshed was not what this day required. With my hands half-raised to indicate that I was not carrying anything, I stepped out of the vehicle. I met Michael's stern stare and replied softly, "Let's talk." "Rebel is with me, but you can ride in one of the cars or follow behind us." He let out a cold laugh. "I ride with her." "Not gonna happen," I said, my voice firming. "She rides within three paces of me the entire time," I informed him, my voice one that wouldn't be disobeyed. Michael's jaw went hard, his gaze darting to Rebel, and for an instant, I was sure he was going to shoot, but instead nodded abruptly. "Fine.". Take the lead. We drove back in silence, Rebel sitting still beside me with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Michael remained behind us on his motorcycle, the motor's rumbling a persistent sign of his tail. My own hands gripped the steering wheel more firmly as I looked over at her. The woman who had defied all the rules I had set, who had lit a fire in my otherwise structured life, was now as motionless as a statue. It was apparent that she was not prepared to confront whatever past she had discussed with Michael. Tension coursed through the house. Rebel pulled her hand out of mine and headed to Michael in the conference room, her voice steady but gentle. "Dad." Michael's face was unreadable as he turned. He glared at me for a second, then back at her with his icy eyes appraising her. "Did I not teach you better?" His voice was a knife slicing through the room. "When did you begin using your legs to think? Do you have any idea what they will do to you? To the two of you?" His words cut like a lash. I braced myself rigid by clenching fists. Just because he was her father, this man's tone was actually impolite. Yes, I did. Michael didn't give me time to respond. Do you think this is a game? You become weak when you fall in love. I told you that how many times? Rebel jutted his chin out in defiance. "I'm not helpless.". This is manageable. It doesn't alter me. "It changes everything!" he burst out, his mask slipping. "You're dead the moment you let your guard down. Or worse, what then happens when he's dead? Do you lose your edge when you've got your revenge?" She spoke softly but firmly. "That isn't so. I'm aware of the risks." "No," Michael angrily snapped back. "You don't. You wouldn't risk all your training if you did. You become vulnerable when you fall in love. Being vulnerable is dangerous." Rebel's voice was firm as she stood tall. "I won't let them kill us. Michael scowled in disgust.". "It's already begun, you've got a bull's eye painted on your forehead. Don't make me wish I'd kept all my secrets to myself." She stood firm and answered brusquely, "I won't," her eyes flashing up at him. Michael stared at me, his unblinking and intense gaze sending a shiver through me. "This is the chap, then." Rebel's glance flickered at me briefly before he answered in a gentler tone. Indeed. Daniel is this chap. He glared at me. "I hope you're worth it.". Because I'll do it myself if you don't. There was complete silence after Michael had spoken. I would not flinch from his gaze as I glared at him. Rebel's hand shifted position at her side as if she did not know whether she should take hold of me or step away completely. She was more upset about her father being there. I saw the anguish in her eyes, and it was much deeper than she cared to acknowledge. Finally, I responded, "You have a lot of nerve," firmly but clearly. "Showing up here guns drawn and behaving as though you still had her in your pocket." Michael's eyes turned serious. "Authority? Do you think there's power at stake here? It's a matter of survival. Something that is quite beyond your comprehension. I said, "I know more than you think." "But you're mistaken if you think you can just charge in here and intimidate her into submission." With her hands raised as if to physically separate us, Rebel intervened between us. She spoke quietly, "Enough," in a soothing voice that belied the tension radiating from her. "You two." Her tone softened but lost its edge as she spoke to Michael. "I understand your intentions, but you no longer have the right to control my decisions.". You showed me how to think for myself and stand firm. I am doing just that. Michael's jaw did tighten, but he did not utter a word. I did momentarily think that he would hear me out. Then, in a low, menacing voice, he spoke. "You think this is going to work out for you and him? You have no idea what's going to happen. Rebel, they won't stop. They never stop." "I understand," she said firmly. "And I'm ready for that." The night wore on with the conversation. The danger that dogged Rebel like a shadow and the organisation she used to work for weren't the only urgent threats. It was about trust. About the unseen but long-lasting scars that still existed between her and Michael. Michael shared pieces of their history, tales that painted a picture of a guy who had once had a strong affection for the girl he had taken in but had become cynical with their way of life. He talked of failed missions, bloody sacrifices, and lessons learned. Rebel's face was unreadable as she listened. She would look at me sometimes as if she was looking for reassurance or gauging my reaction. It was evident that the fight was far from over by the time Michael departed. Rebel was clearly exhausted as she leaned against me, but I knew that we would face whatever came next together.REBELWeddings always have a strange way of cutting me open. Maybe it’s because they pull you between past and future—between the girl I once was and the mother I now am.Today, I sat in the front row, Daniel’s hand warm against mine, my sons Mex and Michael flanking Kezziah on her way down the aisle, and my mother—Carly—beside me, clutching my fingers so tightly it almost hurt. She had tears in her eyes already, though the ceremony hadn’t even begun.The church was beautiful, decorated with white lilies and roses, sunlight streaming through the tall stained-glass windows. Kezziah had wanted something simple but elegant, and somehow, this place had delivered both. My daughter… my only girl… was getting married today and not just to anyone. To Raul.The thought made my chest ache in ways I couldn’t quite name. Raul had been my friend, my brother in arms, my confidant for years. He had been there through battles, heartbreaks, and the weight of crowns and now, he was stepping into a new
KLAUS I’ve faced men with knives in their boots, guns tucked under their coats, eyes burning with the intent to kill. I’ve stared down death so many times that fear and I learned to live like old roommates but nothing could have prepared me for what I heard this morning.My only daughter.My Zilla.Involved… intimately… with the twins.With Mex and Michael—my godsons. My brother’s children in everything but blood.When Catya told me, her face pale as parchment, my stomach clenched so hard I thought I’d collapse. I wanted to storm out of the house, track the boys down, and remind them that while I’d raised them like my own, I was still very capable of breaking bones but Catya grabbed my arm and told me: Don’t you dare. We talk this out as a family.So here we are now.The sitting room feels like a battlefield. My heart is pounding, my jaw tight as stone. Zilla sits between the twins on the couch, her face calm but her hands twisting in her lap. Mex looks defensive already, arms folded
REBEL The house was so still I could hear my own heartbeat. Something was obviously wrong somewhere, and I felt it pressing in from all sides. I had barely cleared the dinner plates when my boys walked in with Kezziah trailing behind looking like her favourite puppy got snatched from her without her approval. Mex and Michael were in front, stiff-backed, their faces completely stoic. Kezziah’s small steps faltered as though she wanted to turn back immediately she got in. “Mom,” Mex said quietly, almost like he was afraid of his own words because they never call me mom except there's trouble. “We need to talk.” Michael gave a single nod, his eyes searching mine. That was when my stomach twisted—I knew this was indeed trouble. I folded my arms, steadying myself. “Alright. What’s going on?” Kezziah wouldn’t look at me. She shifted, nervous, eyes darting between her brothers and the floor. For a moment she looked so young, fragile, like the little girl who used to hide behind my l
KEZZIAH After he stormed out, I'd thought that would be the end, but it never stopped; for eight months we'd been secret lovers. Zilla, my best friend, is the only one who knows.I stared at the little plastic stick in my hand, my heart pounding like I had just sprinted a marathon. The small window on the stick showed a clear result, and I could already feel my life flashing before my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This definitely couldn’t be happening.Pregnant.How the hell did I end up here?The truth, though? I wasn’t entirely surprised since we were like rabbits going at it every day, but I had convinced myself that this couldn't happen as it was just some weird, unattainable fantasy, the kind of thing that doesn’t happen to real people. The age difference, the fact that he had always been like a father figure to me... yeah, that was supposed to be a solid barrier, but then, one stupid night in a club, one too many drinks, one too many bad decisions, and—here we are.I had sp
RAULI no longer celebrated my birthdays, Twenty five was as much as I did after understanding that no matter the age difference Rebel would never love me and had someone who loved her more than anything else in life and she had a family who loved her more than anything but here I am at Forty-five, alone like never before. Hell, I did not even know why I paid attention to the damn age. Time didn't care, nor did I but the whiskey did, the club did as it still manages to comfort my grief.Happy fucking birthday to me. The whiskey was my companion this evening since I decided to avoid the company of Rebel and her family since it's embarrassing enough that every year I still remain single; each burn of whiskey I drank served as a reminder that I was alive, still a man that wanted to forget it all. One year past I found out I now had a desire for Kezziah-Rebel's only daughter with Daniel so I stayed away from the family to avoid being caught. I couldn’t stay in the same breathing space
DANIEL The air was clinical, but cold, I was used to this coldness now not because of the operating rooms, the sterile instruments, or the masked men who moved around like shadows but because the harsh reality of things had set in a long time ago. The world I had created for Rebel and our children, the life we created, was being torn apart, piece by piece, strand by strand, and it all started with Killian. The man who thought he could destroy us. The man who thought he could come in, take what didn't belong to him, and leave none the poorer. Today, I was going to make him remember exactly how wrong he'd been. I did not even need to go look for him. He had thought he was so clever, playing behind masks and alter egos but we had been one step ahead of him since the day that we learned he had survived. The moment Rebel and I were aware that he was still alive, we also knew that the danger was not wiped out but now in a different shape. Here he is, lying in some Parisian back-stree







