LOGIN"I am sleeping in the mouth of the shark, and the worst part is the warmth of its breath."The suite is too quiet. It is a sterile, velvet-lined box designed to keep the world out, but all it does is trap me in here with him. Liam is already in the bed, his back to me, the sheets pulled tight over his broad shoulders. I stand by the window, clutching my robe around my waist. The fabric feels thin, insufficient. Every time I move, I feel the weight of my body, the way the curve of my abdomen has started to push against the silk. It is becoming harder to hide. It is becoming a secret that breathes."Are you going to stand there all night, Aiden?"His voice comes from the darkness, rough with sleep. I jump, my heart leaping into my throat."I’m just adjusting to the room," I say, my voice sounding shaky even to me. "It’s different from my quarters.""It’s safer," he says, shifting. He doesn't turn around, but I can hear the smile in his tone. "Come to bed. You’re shivering.""I’m not col
"I built a god, and now it refuses to let me die."I stare at the monitor in my bedroom, the code scrolling past in a rhythmic, mocking blur. It is my own architecture. I wrote the subroutines for the company’s internal tracking, the very logic that now knows my heartbeat, my location, and every keystroke I dare to make. I am a prisoner of my own brilliance. I slam my fist onto the desk, the sound hollow in the vast, empty room.The door opens. I don't look up. I know it’s Liam before he even speaks."You’re trying to tear down the firewall again, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low, filled with that dangerous, smooth calm that makes my skin crawl."I’m trying to breathe, Liam," I snap, my voice raw. I finally look at him. He is standing in the doorway, his silhouette blocking the hallway light. "This system is everywhere. I can't even open a private browser without it flagging me for a 'security breach.' I am being ghosted by my own creation.""You are a ghost," he says, walking slow
"They say that a trapped animal will gnaw off its own leg to escape, but they never tell you about the monster who learns to enjoy the taste of the blood."The car is silent, save for the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of my fingers against my thigh. Marcus is in the passenger seat, his shoulders hunched, his eyes fixed on the retreating lights of the estate. He thinks he is a survivor. He thinks he is just another hired hand waiting for his next order. He has no idea that I have already decided exactly how he is going to die—or who he is going to serve."You look nervous, Marcus," I say, my voice smooth, chillingly calm.He stiffens. He doesn't turn. "I don't like losing my target, Aiden. It’s bad for business.""You didn't lose me," I whisper, leaning forward until I am inches from his ear. "You were never really chasing me. You were just waiting to be fed."He turns then, his face pale, his eyes darting to the driver, then back to me. "I don't know what you're talking ab
Chapter 14: The Spy in the House"The most dangerous thing you can give an enemy is exactly what they are looking for."I watch Marcus through the reflection of the glass water pitcher. He is sitting in the armchair, his posture stiff, eyes fixed on his own phone. He thinks I am napping. He thinks I am just a broken, sedated shell of a man. He has no idea that every time I blink, I am calculating the distance between his throat and my hands."Marcus?" I whisper, letting a tremor run through my voice.He doesn't look up, but his fingers pause on the screen. "You should be resting, Aiden.""I can't," I say, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "The dreams. They are getting worse. I keep seeing... the merger files. The ones Liam said he destroyed. I remember where they are."That gets his attention. He puts the phone face down on his knee. "The merger files? You said those were wiped.""I lied," I murmur, closing my eyes, playing the exhausted, unraveling victim. "Liam wanted
"I am a masterpiece of artifice, and the truth is the only thing I cannot afford."I hear his footsteps before I see him. They are measured, heavy, and rhythmic. The kind of stride that expects the world to move out of the way. I am curled on the chaise in the conservatory, a thin blanket draped over my legs, my eyes fluttering shut as I hear the door click. I force my breathing to slow, to mimic the shallow, jagged pattern of someone drowning in their own exhaustion."Aiden?"My father’s voice is like grinding stone. I open my eyes, letting them appear glazed, unfocused. I struggle to prop myself up, my hands trembling with a calculated, rhythmic instability."Father? I didn't think you were coming today," I whisper, my voice cracking perfectly.He stands over me, his shadow stretching across the floor tiles. He isn't looking at my face. He is looking at my hands, at the way I grip the blanket, assessing the fragility I have curated for him."Liam told me you were worsening," he says
"My father is not a savior, he is the architect of the cage."I stare at the floorboards where his shoes clicked just moments ago. The echo of his arrival still vibrates in my chest, a reminder that I am surrounded by predators wearing the faces of kin. The drug Elena pumped into my system is a heavy fog, making my limbs feel like lead, but my mind is a sharp, jagged blade. I crawl toward the desk, pushing past the pain. The man in the suit is gone, left behind in the chaos of my father’s unexpected entrance.I reach the hidden terminal. My fingers are clumsy, but I force them to work. I need to know where the money went. I need to know how they plan to finish me.The screen flickers. Rows of numbers spill out, meaningless at first, then coalescing into a pattern. I follow the trail of wire transfers. It leads away from the company, away from the legal reach of the board, and into a deep, dark forest of shell companies.My breath hitches. The last account, the one holding the bulk of







