Chapter Six

The first scream didn’t come from fear. It came from confusion. Because no one in that ballroom understood what they were looking at.

The massive digital display above the stage, used moments ago to showcase innovation metrics and investment portfolios, flickered violently.

Then it went black.

A sharp crack echoed through the speakers. It was static.

And then—

PHANTOM

The word appeared in bold red across every screen in the room. Not just the main display. Even on phones, tablets, security monitors, and the private devices of high-ranking guests.

It appeared on all of them. It was hijacked, controlled, and owned.

For half a second— No one moved, because no one breathed. Then chaos hit.

“What the hell?” 

“My device!” 

“Security!”

Voices overlapped, panic rising like a tide. The orchestra stopped mid-note, and guards scrambled toward exits. The executives clutched their phones like lifelines suddenly turned hostile.

Luna didn’t move. She didn’t flinch, nor did she react. But her mind sharpened instantly. Because she knew one thing with absolute certainty: She didn’t do this.

“Ms. Albert?” Jenna’s voice trembled at her side. “Is this?”

“No.” The answer came immediately. It was flat but certain.

Jenna blinked. “But it says—” 

“I said no.” And that was the end of it.

Because Jenna had learned, over five years, that when Luna said something— It was a fact.

Across the room, Desmond’s head snapped toward her. It was more of suspicion, recognition, or something darker. 

“I knew it,” he muttered.

Liora grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s her,” he said, louder now. “That’s what she does. This is her.”

Selene’s eyes widened. “You mean?”

“Yes,” he said, staring at Luna. “Phantom.”

Ophelia didn’t speak, but her gaze sharpened. It was calculating and reassessing. 

For the first time, she looked at Luna not as a failure. But as a variable.

The screens flickered again.

The red text glitched— Then shifted. New words appeared.

YOU BUILT A KINGDOM ON WEAKNESS.

The room went silent. Even the panic paused. Because this was no random hack. This was a message.

Alexander moved. It wasn’t quick nor dramatic but with purpose. He stepped forward, eyes scanning the room—not the screens. But the people, the exits, and the shadows.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

Luna’s gaze lifted slightly. It was tracking and analyzing.

Because this was sloppy. it was too loud, theatrical, and too emotional. Not Phantom. Not her.

The message changed again.

LET’S SEE HOW LONG IT STANDS.

Then, every light in the ballroom went out. Darkness swallowed everything. Gasps erupted. Someone screamed. Glass shattered somewhere to the left. Bodies collided and there was real panic.

But Luna closed her eyes and breathed. Because darkness didn’t scare her, it focused her. The sound, movement, and air displacement. She mapped it instantly.

Three guards were moving toward the main doors—two toward the emergency exits. Crowd shifting right, fear-driven clustering.

Alexander— He was still, centered, and unmoving.

Then, a sound. It was soft, almost nothing. 

A click. Her eyes snapped open. “Down!” she snapped. It was too late.

A flash, blinding white, followed by a deafening bang. Smoke filled the air. It was not an explosion.

A flash device, disorientation, confusion, and a control tactic. Someone planned this.

Luna dropped low instantly, grabbing Jenna’s arm and pulling her down. “Stay close,” she ordered. Jenna nodded frantically, coughing. “What’s happening?!”

“We’re being herded,” Luna said.

“By who?” “That’s what I’m about to find out.”

Across the room— Desmond shifted partially, instincts kicking in. His Alpha presence surged. “Everyone stay calm!” he barked. It barely helped. But it helped.

“Liora,” he said, pulling her close. “Stay behind me.” She clung to him. But her eyes flicked again to Luna. It was fear, but not only fear, something calculating. 

Then— Emergency lights flickered on. It was dim. Casting everything in a blood-colored glow. 

And in that glow, Figures appeared at the edges of the room. They were six or maybe eight. They were dressed in black and their faces were covered. 

Silent.

The crowd froze. Because now they understood. This wasn’t a glitch, this wasn't a stunt. This was an attack.

Alexander exhaled slowly. “Finally,” he said. The first attacker moved fast, straight toward the center.

And Luna— Luna stepped forward. Her heels clicked once, twice, and then stopped. She slipped them off and dropped them on the floor.  She was barefoot, grounded, and ready. 

“Jenna,” she said without looking back. “Yes?”

“Stay behind me. Don’t move unless I tell you.” “O-okay”

The attacker lunged, Knife glinting in the red light. It was aimed straight at her.

The crowd gasped. Because they expected— Fear, hesitation, and weakness. They got none.

Luna moved efficiently. Her hand snapped up, redirected the wrist, and twisted.

A sharp crack. The knife clattered to the floor. Before the attacker could react, her elbow drove into his throat. He dropped instantly.

There was absolute silence. .

Because no one in that room, had ever seen Luna like this.

Desmond stared. He was frozen, because that movement, that precision, that power—wasn’t new, it was familiar. But not in the way he understood.

“Get out,” Luna said calmly. No one moved. Because no one knew if she was talking to them, or the attackers.

The remaining figures shifted. They were recalculating, because their target wasn’t behaving like a prey.

Alexander stepped forward. Now fully engaged. His presence expanded. It was dark, dominant, and terrifying.

“Mine,” he said quietly. Not to Luna, to the room, the attackers, and to anyone who thought otherwise.

Luna didn’t react. She didn’t acknowledge it. Because right now, that didn’t matter.

What mattered— Was the pattern.

She quickly scanned the room again.

And then,  she saw the cameras, still active, still recording, and still transmitting. A slow smile spread across her face.

“Found you,” she murmured.

Because this— This wasn’t just an attack, it was a performance.

And someone, somewhere was watching.

The screen flickered again. Even through emergency mode, even through system shutdown.

One last message appeared, small, at the corner.

WELCOME BACK, PHANTOM.

Luna’s smile faded slowly.

Because now— Now she understood. This wasn’t about the summit, not about the pack, not even about power. This was about her.

Someone knew she was back, someone knew exactly who she was. And worse, they wanted her to know it.

Behind her,  Alexander’s voice dropped low and interested. “Looks like,” he said, “you’re not the only ghost in the room.”

Luna didn’t turn nor did she respond. Her eyes stayed locked on the screen. On that message, burning into her mind. 

WELCOME BACK, PHANTOM.

And for the first time since she walked into that ballroom, Luna felt something unfamiliar. It’s not fear but anticipation.

Because whoever was behind this, had just made a mistake.

They didn’t just find her, they challenged her.

And Phantom— Never ignored a challenge.