Mag-log inFive Years later Alexander and IsabellaThe city below glittered like a sea of stars, a reflection of the sky above. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of our penthouse, I could see the skyline stretching endlessly, a testament to all we had built—and survived. It had been five years since that day, our wedding day, the day I had promised Isabella my life, my soul, my everything. And now, looking out over the world from the sanctuary we had carved for ourselves, I felt a quiet satisfaction I had never allowed myself before.I turned from the window, my eyes immediately finding her across the room. Isabella moved with effortless grace, balancing a tray of morning coffee and freshly baked croissants. Even after five years, her presence had the power to stop me in my tracks. She was a living, breathing reminder of every victory, every struggle, every risk we had taken. And as always, she was beautiful—radiant in a way that was both delicate and fierce.“Good morning,” I said, my voice ca
Alexander’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the estate, its golden light scattering across the polished marble floors. I stood alone in the grand hall, adjusting the cuff of my tailored suit, my fingers brushing over the familiar weight of the ring I had kept close these past weeks. My chest tightened—not from the suit, nor the cold air—but from the anticipation, the gravity of the moment that was about to define not just my life, but ours. Isabella.She would walk down that aisle in a few moments, and I could already feel the pull of her presence in my chest, the ache of every second spent waiting to see her, to finally hold her, to finally call her mine in front of the world. Everything else—the rivalries, the battles, the shadows we had faced—faded into nothingness in that instant. This was it. This was the moment where we would leave the past behind and step into a life of our choosing.I could hear the soft murmur of guests gathering in the hall. Close fr
ISABELLA’S POVThe world feels strangely quiet as I stand in front of the mirror, staring at the faint bruises that still shadow my ribs. A reminder of everything we survived. A reminder that the storm tried to destroy us… but didn’t.My fingers shake as I push a strand of hair behind my ear.Today is the hearing.The final one.The one where everything ends—or begins.“Isabella?” A soft knock. “You ready?”Elena slips inside before I can answer. Her eyes scan me, checking for cracks. I smile because I know she worries. She has seen me broken, hunted, terrified. She saw my world meant to collapse.But now… something else glows beneath my ribs.Hope.“Alexander is already downstairs,” she says, smoothing a crease on my blouse. “He looks like he hasn’t slept all night.”I laugh. “He hasn’t.”“Neither have you.”I swallow hard. True.Because for the last two nights, every time I closed my eyes… I saw the gun pointed at him. I heard Vincent’s voice. I felt Alexander’s hand slipping from m
(Alexander's POV and Isabella's POV)I stood at the edge of the abandoned shipping yard, wind slashing against my coat, the cold settling into my bones. The place was a tomb—corrugated metal sheds, broken windows, rusted cranes frozen mid-motion like dead giants. A perfect graveyard for the truth Lucien promised to show me.He chose this location on purpose.My past was buried here.And tonight, he meant to dig it up.My jaw clenched as I scanned the shadows. “Come out, Lucien.”Silence stretched... then boots scraped against concrete.Lucien emerged from behind a stack of decayed cargo crates, dressed in a charcoal suit that didn’t belong in a place like this. His smile, however, fit perfectly. Cold. Predatory. Eager.“Alexander,” he said with false warmth. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”“I’m here,” I replied. “Say what you came to say. Or die with it.”He chuckled. “Always so dramatic. No wonder Isabella fell for you. Broken men are irresistible to soft hearts.”Her name in his m
(Isabella’s POV)The moment Alexander’s phone buzzes, I know something is wrong—terribly wrong. He freezes, mid-step, staring at the screen as if the message reached out and gripped him by the throat.“Alexander?” I whisper. “What is it?”He doesn’t answer.His jaw clenches.His breathing changes.The color drains from his face.He turns the screen slowly toward me.A single message.From an unknown number.“Check your private vault. You missed something. Tick-tock.”My stomach drops. “No… no, no—Alexander, what does that mean? Your vault is supposed to be—”“Secure,” he finishes hollowly. “Only I can access it.”But the look in his eyes tells me something much worse:Whoever sent this… knows him. Knows his past. Knows us.“Get your things,” he murmurs. “We’re leaving.”---The DriveThe car is silent except for the soft hum of the engine. Rain hits the windshield in steady, anxious taps. Alexander grips the wheel with a force that turns his knuckles white. His mind is racing—I can fe
Isabella’s POVWhen the second alarm screamed through the mansion, the sound cut through me like a blade. I felt it all the way inside my chest. Something like fear. Something like adrenaline. Something like the sinking realization that my life would never return to what it once was.But most of all, something like certainty.Because Alexander did not let go of my hand.He gripped it strongly, never loosening for even a heartbeat. And even in this chaos, even with guns firing in the distance and the estate shaking beneath our feet, I felt safer with him than I had ever felt with anyone in my life.We sprinted through the main hall. Smoke drifted from somewhere above us. Shouting echoed down the corridors, overlapping, clashing. I could hear Liam shouting orders on our left. Tessa’s footsteps ran behind us. Guards rushed past, forming defensive lines.Everything was breaking apart.Everything was war.My mind raced with every step.The Circle. My father. The Orpheus Sequence. Some gene







