CHAPTER 45

Unknown POV

The room was quiet in a way that felt controlled rather than empty. No one spoke, but it wasn’t out of comfort, Every person seated around the long table knows better than to break the silence first.

At the head of the table, the man sat with a file in front of him, his posture relaxed, almost too relaxed for the tension in the room. His fingers rested lightly against the surface as he flipped through the pages at his own pace, unhurried, uninterested in the discomfort building around him.

“Sir,” one of them finally began, careful with his tone, “we have a situation.”

The man didn’t respond immediately. He turned another page, his eyes scanning the contents with quiet focus until they stopped on a photograph.

Vera.

“…She resurfaced,” the man said, his voice calm.

“Yes, sir,” the subordinate replied.

Another page turned.

Kael.

The air shifted slightly, subtle but enough for everyone in the room to feel it.

“She’s not alone,” the subordinate continued. “She’s currently under the protection of an Italian mafia don. Highly dangerous. We’ve confirmed—”

“Stop.”

The interruption was soft, but absolute. The man’s gaze remained on the photograph in front of him.

“Repeat that.”

“She’s with an Italian mafia don, sir. His name is—”

“I know his name.”

That was when he leaned back slightly, his attention fully settling on the image of the young man in the file.

“…Kael Renner.”

No one spoke.

“What do we know about him?” he asked.

Another file was pushed forward immediately. “Kael Renner. Italian. Head of a rapidly rising syndicate. Ruthless, calculated, highly efficient. His growth in power has been unusually fast. No confirmed weaknesses.”

“Age.”

“…Twenty-four.”

That was when his fingers paused.

“…Timeline?” he asked quietly.

A brief shuffle of papers followed as the others checked again, cross-referencing old records with new information.

“It aligns, sir.”

The room stilled.

No one needed to say it out loud yet, but the realization had already begun to settle.

“…Run it again,” he said.

They did.

More silence. More checking.

Then—

“…Sir,” one of them said carefully, “he matches the profile.”

The man’s lips curved slightly.

“He was one of the first,” the subordinate added.

This time, no one moved.

Years ago, when the facility was attacked, When everything went wrong, When the project was nearly destroyed.

“…The incident,” another voice continued. “When the compound was breached—”

“His father,” the man said calmly.

“Yes, sir.”

Memories flickered through the room, Fire......Loss. A system collapsing under pressure. Subjects taken. Others scattered.

“…He was among the ones saved” the subordinate said. “Along with several of the early test subjects.”

The man said nothing for a moment, his gaze still on Kael’s photograph.

“Saved,” he repeated softly, as if testing the word.

No one corrected him.

Another file was opened.

Vera’s image came into view again.

“…And her?” he asked.

“Subject V,” someone answered. “She was transferred before the attack. Relocated with the remaining group.”

Hidden,

“Unfinished,” another added.

The man’s eyes moved between both images.

Kael.

Vera.

Separated by years, by different outcomes of the same system.

“…And now they’re together,” he murmured.

“Yes, sir.”

A quiet pause followed.

Then the man let out a soft laugh.

Not loud. Not dramatic. But wrong in a way that made the room colder.

“How convenient.”

No one responded.

“Two of our finest results… reunited without our involvement.”

His head tilted slightly, interest sharpening in his gaze.

“Fascinating.”

“Sir,” one of them said carefully, “Kael Renner is not someone we can approach carelessly. If he becomes aware of what he is—”

“He already is.”

The certainty in his voice ended the concern immediately.

“If he wasn’t,” the man continued, “he would have killed her.”

Silence settled again, heavier this time.

“What are your orders?” another asked.

The man leaned back, his gaze lingering on the files like they belonged to him.

“We spent years building this,” he said. “Refining it. Perfecting it.”

His fingers tapped lightly against the table once before going still.

“Do you know what the greatest mistake was?”

No one answered.

“Letting them leave.”

His voice remained calm, but there was something beneath it now. Something sharper.

“They were never meant to exist outside of us. Everything they are… everything they’ve become…”

His lips curved slightly.

“…we made it.”

The statement sat heavy in the room.

“Sir,” someone said, more cautious now, “we still don’t have their exact location. We’re tracking movements, but—”

“But you should already have it.”

The man’s gaze lifted slowly, settling on the speaker.

“No location. No control. No retrieval.”

Each word landed harder than the last.

“What exactly have you been doing?”

No one answered.

“They are not assets you misplace,” he continued, his voice lower now. “Not subjects you forget.”

A pause.

Then—

“They are mine.”

The room went still.

Completely.

“My children,” he added.

And that was worse.

Far worse.

“Find them,” he said.

No hesitation.

“Track everything. Every movement. Every connection. I want updates before they even make decisions.”

His gaze moved across the table slowly.

“If they run, follow. If they hide, drag them out.”

No emotion.

Just certainty.

“They’ve been free long enough.”

A brief pause followed before his expression shifted into something colder.

“If they resist…”

The room held its breath.

“…break them.”

Silence.

Absolute.

“Just enough,” he finished quietly, “to remind them who they belong to.”

No one spoke.

Because no one needed clarification.

The order was clear.

And somewhere far from that room—

Unaware—

The two people he was talking about were already moving closer to a war they didn’t even know had begun.