***************************— Mack’s POV*******************---I don't get to sleep much anymore.Not that the bed wasn't comfortable, not that the sheets weren't soft, or that Claire wasn't always beside me, filling me with her warmth. But because my mind rarely shuts off.Not lately. Not with Liam's face splattered across every new station, not with the country howling for justice, and not with the way Claire's hands had started to tremble again when she thought no one was watching.I didn’t sleep much anymore.I’d spent years mastering the art of pretending—smiles, nods, empty handshakes with board members who wanted me out, with investors who wanted blood, with lawyers who swore by loyalty until it was inconvenient. I knew how to wear power like a second skin.But this? This war?It didn’t ask for masks.It demanded armour.And I was running out of pieces to shield the people I loved.---At 4:15 a.m., I rolled out of bed and padded to the large window. Claire was still asleep, on
**************************— Liam’s POV*********************---They were slipping.Not all at once—no. That would’ve been too easy. But I saw it in the little things. The way the media had shifted from pure outrage to confused suspicion. How the headlines softened from “MONSTER IN THE BASEMENT” to “Agyis Dynamics Remains Silent Amid Allegations.” Even the investigative pieces were starting to fade, drowned beneath newer, shinier tragedies.People’s memories were short. Their attention spans are shorter.But mine? Mine was long. Unforgiving.And my patience was wearing thin.---From my suite above the city, I watched the skyline burn gold with the setting sun. The glass reflected a warped version of myself—tired eyes, a fine bruise under my cheekbone from where my father shoved me during his last visit, and lips that couldn’t quite remember what smiling felt like unless Claire’s name was on my tongue.She was the only thing I wanted.Everything else was noise.---I turned away from
****************************POV: Rowe**************************---Liam’s mistake wasn’t underestimating Mack.It was underestimating me.He always saw me as the Sadie's opposite. The quiet one in the family. The son behind the strong bond in the family, making sure the family stays together amongst Morgan's busy schedules and Lizzy enthusiasm for traveling around the world.But I learned a long time ago: you don’t win a war by shouting.You win by watching.And this morning, I saw something that made everything click into place.---Erica Tan.I’d seen her dozens of times—tall, composed, a professional assistant if there ever was one. Mack trusted her. She scheduled his calls, sorted files, and knew more about the company’s schedule than half of management.But that was the problem.She was too invisible. It's too perfect. When I pulled up server logs from our security breach, one name popped up three times, right before the firewall triggered.Hers.She accessed the executive VPN t
*******************************POV: Mack******************** --- The walls in this house weren’t walls anymore. They were expectations. Burdens. Whispers with teeth. Every creak of the floorboard made my heart jump. Every flicker of light on the security monitors made my chest tighten. Sleep had become a stranger. Food tasted like paper. And the only thing I was sure of anymore was this: I couldn’t lose Claire. Not now. Not when everything else was already slipping. --- I sat in my office at the edge of dawn, elbows resting on the polished oak desk I hadn’t touched in days. The curtains were drawn, casting long, sleepy shadows across the floor. I could still smell her perfume on my sweater—Claire’s. Faint, but there. And it kept me anchored. The media had been relentless since Aliana’s rescue. Every outlet was screaming my company’s name like it was a war crime. “Agyis Dynamics tied to secret basement.” “Half-brother of CEO implicated in criminal acts.” “Inside the empire of
***************************POV: Aliana*************************** --- They gave me a room with sunlight. That was the first thing I noticed. After days—weeks?—of concrete walls and artificial light, the sun felt like a story I had once heard as a child but never believed was real. I lay curled beneath a thick quilt, watching it spill through the window, golden, and dappled with shadow. I wasn’t sure what day it was. Or what time. I only knew that I was safe. Or supposed to be. I hadn’t earned safety. Not yet. --- The walls in this house were different from mine—softer, warmer, and lived-in. A painting of a coastline hung on the wall across from the bed. The sheets smelled like lavender. Somehow, that made it worse. I’d woken up here two days ago, bruised, dazed, and unsure whether the voice calling my name had been real or another figment of captivity. But then I saw Claire. Saw her cry. Heard her whisper, “We got you. You’re safe now.” And I believed it. Not because I
Chapter 156 – Loose Ends ****************************POV: Rowe************************** --- I had four missed calls, a dying phone battery, and three agents in the field still unaccounted for. And yet, none of that compared to the tight coil of unease sitting in the middle of my chest. Something was coming. I could feel it—like the press of a storm before the sky split open. --- Claire was in the sunroom when I passed by. She was trying to look casual—legs tucked under her, a book open in her lap—but I saw the way her eyes flicked to every corner of the room every ten seconds. --- She sat still, her eyes were fixed on the book, her fingers poised over the bookcover like everything was normal. But her breaths came shallow, and her jaw clenched every few seconds. The room felt too quiet, too loud. Her heart thudded against her ribs, betraying the calm she tried to fake. She blinked hard, forcing her thoughts back into the task, pretending the chaos behind her eyes d