All Chapters of under his control : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Liam pov The ringing in Liam’s ears wouldn’t stop. It was a piercing, endless tone that refused to fade, even as his vision flickered in and out. He coughed, tasting blood and smoke. The helicopter was blown apart by someone else’s grenade and the field where he’d stood minutes ago was now a wasteland of fire and broken bodies. He forced himself up, stumbling over debris. His weapon was lost, his team scattered. “Ava!” he shouted, voice cracking. Nothing but silence answered him. He turned in circles, scanning the burning horizon for even a glimpse of her dark hair, her silhouette, anything. But she was gone. Liam dropped to his knees, the exhaustion finally catching him. Every decision, every secret, every lie had brought them here to this moment of smoke and ash. He pressed his hands to the ground and felt it trembling under the weight of his choices. Then a voice came through the static of his earpiece. “West, do you copy?” Liam froze. That voice. “Elijah?” “Yeah, it’s me.

Liam pov The rain had started before dawn thin, cold, and relentless. It soaked through Liam’s jacket as he stood outside the cabin, watching the sky pale into bruised gray. He hadn’t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the little girl from the hologram, her green eyes too knowing for a child, calling Ava Mommy. The word had gutted him. He’d seen Victoria manipulate genetics, build abominations in the name of progress but this was different. This was personal. This was her final revenge. Inside, Ava was still asleep, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. He could see the faint movement of her breathing, calm but fragile, like a candle struggling against the wind. Liam turned away before the sight could break him again. They needed to move. By the time Ava woke, he’d already packed their things: maps, ammo, a small medkit, and what little food they had left. The fire was long dead. Ava rubbed her eyes, her voice rough with sleep. “You didn’t rest.” “Couldn’t,

Liam POV Smoke curled into the sky like black ribbons, staining the horizon. The explosion had thrown Liam backward, slamming him hard against the rusted frame of the car. The world spun in and out of focus flames licking at the edges of the shattered valley, the echo of Ava’s voice swallowed by the roar of destruction. He forced himself up, coughing through the haze, shouting her name again and again until his throat burned. “Ava!” No answer. Only the hiss of fire, the crackle of metal collapsing in the distance. He staggered toward the crater, ignoring the blood running down his temple. “Ava!” His voice broke this time, more plea than command. The earth was still warm beneath his boots. Her pendant, the silver one he’d given her months ago lay half-buried in ash. He picked it up, closing his fist around it until his knuckles turned white. She was gone. And somewhere beneath the rubble, the woman he loved, pregnant, hunted, and haunted, was either buried alive or taken. He re

Liam pov The alarms were still screaming when I saw her. Ava. Alive. Breathing. Covered in shadows and wires, but alive. For a few long seconds, I forgot everything: the gunfire, the chaos, the world collapsing behind me. My lungs didn’t know how to work. My knees nearly gave out. There she was, sitting in the middle of the white room like some broken miracle that didn’t belong in this filthy war. Her eyes found mine through the smoke. And everything I had destroyed to reach her suddenly felt worth it. Then the gunfire returned. Sloane barked an order. Her soldiers lifted their rifles. Dr. Hart shoved Ava down, shielding her body with her own. I lifted my gun and fired without thinking, the sound of metal against flesh cutting through the alarms. It was the kind of sound that used to make me flinch; now it was just part of the rhythm of staying alive. A bullet tore past my shoulder, grazing the wall. I ducked low, rolled across the floor, and grabbed one of the fallen guards’

Ava pov The sound of the waves was the only thing that reminded Ava she was still alive. The rest of the island felt like death cold, sterile, humming with hidden machines beneath the concrete. From her narrow window, she could see nothing but fog, a pale wall that swallowed the horizon. Days bled into nights without distinction here. The air itself seemed to hum with waiting. When she first woke up in this place, she thought it was another dream, a nightmare stitched together by her own fear. But then she saw Victoria again. The same composed face, the same soft voice pretending to be maternal. Victoria never raised her voice, never shouted. She didn’t need to. The way she looked at people, like she could read the blood flowing under their skin, was enough to strip away courage. Now, Ava sat at the edge of the narrow bed, her wrists still raw where the restraints had been. She wasn’t tied anymore, but the illusion of freedom was worse. They had given her food, clean clothes, even