MasukElena Dawson---The first time I looked into the mirror after Project Rebirth, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back.Her skin looked smoother, untouched by time or scars. Her eyes once warm hazel now shimmered with a faint, unnatural gleam beneath the light, like a secret trapped beneath the surface. My heart pounded, my breath uneven, as I traced trembling fingers over the reflection’s cheekbone.“Who are you?” I whispered.But the woman didn’t answer. She only looked back at me, perfectly still, almost mocking.The sterile room was cold and too bright, the hum of the fluorescent lights drilling through the fog in my skull. My memories were a fractured film reel snatches of laughter, the sound of crashing waves, Alexander’s voice murmuring my name and then, darkness.I remembered dying.And yet… here I was.A sharp ache pulsed at the base of my skull. I closed my eyes, trying to steady the storm in my chest, but flashes burned behind my eyelids Richard Hale’s voice barking orde
For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe.The words on the metal plaque gleamed under the faint blue light:VAUGHN INDUSTRIES PROTOTYPE – PROJECT REBIRTH.My family’s company. My name. My past.Everything inside me went still. The world seemed to tilt, sound falling away until all I could hear was the rapid, uneven beat of my own heart.“No… no, this can’t be real,” I whispered, stepping closer.The glass cylinder stood almost my height, encasing a humming orb of soft energy that pulsed like a heartbeat. It wasn’t just a machine it felt alive.Why was it here? In Alexander’s vault? And why did it bear the Vaughn name, my mother’s legacy, long before Hale destroyed it?My hands trembled as I reached out, pressing my palm against the cold glass. A faint vibration ran through me, like static alive, electric.A thousand memories rushed back:My mother’s secret late-night meetings. The hushed arguments with my father about “ethical limits.” The day Hale swooped in with promises to “help” the
Elena Dawson pov---The darkness was absolute.Not the kind that simply dims the light but the kind that devours it, swallowing every sound, every breath, until all that’s left is the pounding of your own heartbeat.I could hear Alexander’s shallow breathing beside me, the faint rustle of his jacket as he pressed his hand harder against his wound. The air smelled of gunpowder and salt, the storm outside now nothing compared to the one raging inside this house.“Alexander,” I whispered, reaching for him.“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, though his voice betrayed him with a tremor.“You’re bleeding through the bandage.”“Not the first time.” He tried to move, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.“Don’t you dare play the stoic hero right now.”Even in the darkness, I could feel the smirk tug at his lips. “It’s not playing if it’s true.”I glared at him or at least in his direction. “You’re impossible.”“And yet,” he murmured, leaning closer, “you’re still here.”My breath hitched. The
Elena Dawson Pov---The rain had stopped by morning, leaving behind a silence that clung to the estate like an unspoken secret. The sea shimmered under a pale sun, calm yet deceptive just like Alexander.He stood by the window of his study, hands clasped behind his back, broad shoulders outlined by the soft light. There was something hauntingly beautiful about him in moments like this controlled, unreadable, as if the world itself could end and he’d still remain composed.But I’d seen beneath that calm before. The fury. The protectiveness. The way his touch could make me forget my name.And the way his eyes softened only when they found me.“Alexander,” I said softly, breaking the silence.He didn’t turn. “You should be resting, Elena.”“I can’t.” I stepped closer. “Not after last night.”He exhaled, a sound that was more weary than annoyed. “You shouldn’t have followed me down to the docks.”“You were bleeding,” I countered. “What did you expect me to do? Pretend not to care?”His j
The fire alarm howled through the hallways, echoing off marble and glass until every sound blurred into panic. My pulse raced in time with the sirens. Smoke bled into the corridor, curling like ghostly fingers against the ceiling.Alexander’s hand tightened around mine as he pulled me toward the security control room. His steps were steady, precise, every movement measured like a man who’d faced chaos before and learned to master it.“Stay close to me,” he ordered.“I’m not running,” I said, even though my voice trembled.He shot me a look over his shoulder sharp, protective, and impossibly calm amid the chaos. “Good. Because I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”We turned the corner and froze.The front windows of the estate were blown inward, shards of glass scattered across the floor. The ocean wind screamed through the broken panes, carrying the scent of salt and burning chemicals. Somewhere outside, a drone buzzed like a metal hornet before bursting in a flash of white ligh
Sleep never came.The ocean outside roared like a wounded beast, hurling itself against the cliffs until dawn burned the horizon gold. I’d spent the night curled in the corner of Alexander’s study, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of smoke and rain. The photo still glowed on his desk screen me, caught mid-fear, frozen by someone who had no right to still exist.Every few minutes, Alexander’s phone buzzed. Messages from his security chief. Calls from private investigators. The entire Knight Corporation network had mobilized before sunrise. Yet Richard Hale had vanished like a ghost no signal trace, no visual confirmation, only the echo of his taunt: Round two begins.I stared at the image again, hating how small I looked in it.A decade ago in the other life I would have shattered under that kind of threat. But rebirth had burned weakness out of me. Still, my hands trembled when I tried to sip the coffee Alexander left on the table.He noticed.“Stop replaying it,” he said qui







