Chapter 9: Shadow's Daughter

The red sniper dot burned on James Reeves’ chest like a death sentence.

Oren Gallamor stood frozen on the rain-slicked rooftop, the real microSD card held over the crashing Atlantic far below. Harry Vida, her father, watched her with dark, possessive pride.

“One wrong move,” Vida said softly, “and my man puts a bullet through your husband’s heart before your wedding night even begins.”

James didn’t flinch. “Drop it,” he told her quietly. “If it keeps you safe, drop the fucking card.”

Oren’s hand trembled. Rain mixed with tears on her face. Everything had been orchestrated by the man standing ten feet away. Then lunged sideways, grabbing James’s arm with desperate strength.

They crashed behind the concrete pillar just as the sniper fired. The bullet sparked off the stone where James had been standing.

“Move!” James snarled, pulling her up. They ran.

Bullets whizzed past as they sprinted back toward the open rooftop access. James fired behind them with deadly accuracy, dropping two of Vida’s men. Oren kept pace, dress torn and soaked, silver gun in her hand. A third pursuer rounded the corner. She pulled the trigger. He dropped.

They burst through the shattered door into the upper corridor. James kicked open the door to one of his private safe rooms, shoved Oren inside, and slammed it shut, locking it with a heavy bolt.

For a second, they just breathed. Then James turned to her, eyes wild with adrenaline and raw need. He didn’t speak.

He grabbed her, slamming her back against the wall and kissing her like a man possessed. Oren moaned into his mouth, fingers tearing at his shirt. The kiss was filthy and desperate. James yanked her dress up over her hips and lifted her. Oren wrapped her legs around his waist as he freed himself.

He thrust into her in one hard stroke.

Oren cried out, nails digging into his shoulders. James groaned, kissing her neck, face, eyes, lips, as he fucked her against the wall; deep, brutal, and relentless. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with their ragged breaths and moans.

“Fuck, Oren,” he growled, pounding into her harder. “You feel like I could die in your embrace.”

Oren’s head fell back, pleasure ripping through her with every thrust. She clung to him, meeting every stroke. James’s hands gripped her ass, holding her in place as he drove deeper, faster, claiming her completely.

They came together hard. Oren clenching around him, crying out his name. James burying himself to the hilt with a guttural groan.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, breathing hard, bodies locked together. Then James slowly lowered her to the floor. He pulled out gently, eyes dark and intense as he watched her. Oren’s legs felt shaky, but she forced herself to stand straight, adjusting her torn dress.

James stepped back, running a hand through his damp hair. “We can’t stay lost in this,” he said, voice rough. “Not yet.”

Oren nodded, still catching her breath. She reached into her garter and pulled out the real microSD card.

“Play it,” she whispered.

James plugged it into the secure laptop in the room. The recording began.

Her mother’s voice, weak but clear: “If you’re hearing this, Oren… Harry Vida is your real father. He never loved me. He only used me. And James… he doesn’t know the full truth yet. But you have to keep fighting. The answers are in these accounts. Every single answer.”

The file ended. Oren felt the floor drop out from under her. Harry Vida was her real father.

James stared at the screen, face pale. “I didn’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I swear I didn’t know. But there’s more I haven’t told you. I’ve been digging into what happened that night. There are pieces missing. Pieces I’m still trying to uncover. I didn’t want to tell you until I had the full truth.”

Oren pushed him away, eyes blazing with fresh betrayal. “You’ve been hiding things from me even now?”

James reached for her, but she stepped back.

The door to the room suddenly rattled. Heavy banging started from the other side.

Harry Vida’s voice came through the speaker. “Open the door, daughter. We need to talk.”