Semua Bab My Father's Rival Is My Lover : Bab 191 - Bab 200

Snowflakes dusted the rooftops of Prague, swirling through the midnight air like whispers of forgotten sins. Beneath the frozen surface of the historic city, another world churned, a world of secrets, syringes, and shadows. A world called Seraph.Roman gripped the steering wheel of their unmarked van as they coasted through the Old Town under cover of darkness. Petra monitored surveillance feeds from the passenger seat. Alma sat in the back, between her mother and a crate of EMP devices, her heart thudding with a mixture of fear and resolve.Tonight was not about revenge.It was about closure.And a final confrontation with Damien’s vision of a new world.“We’re ten minutes out from the vault,” Petra said, zooming in on a blurry satellite feed. “Underground facility. Biosecurity locks. Heat signature shows about fifteen moving targets.”Roman nodded. “They’ll be armed. And paranoid.”“They should be,” Elena Lena said, her voice quiet but deadly. “The Prague vault was meant to be Serap

The helicopter sliced through the dark skies over Hungary, carrying Alma, Roman, Petra, Lena, and the weakened but conscious Nyx toward another safehouse, this one embedded beneath the Budapest Parliament Building, accessible only through secret government channels that Lena had cultivated over years of espionage.The adrenaline from their escape hadn’t worn off.The explosion that swallowed Lucien’s fortress still echoed in Alma’s ears. But more than that Lucien’s last words haunted her.“The next generation isn’t made. It’s awakened.”Alma sat across from Nyx, watching her twin’s eyes slowly begin to focus. She looked human. Battered, yes. But human.Except the longer Alma looked at her the more she wasn’t sure.Nyx blinked. “You look like me.”Alma nodded, cautious. “You were cloned from my DNA.”Nyx’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Then I guess that makes us sisters?”Petra muttered under her breath from across the cabin. “Or science’s cruelest joke.”Nyx didn’t take offense. I

The waters of the Adriatic glistened beneath the Montenegro sun, but the brightness did little to ease Alma’s tension.She stood on the balcony of their temporary base, a private villa overlooking the sea, while the others prepared for the summit that would begin in less than 48 hours.Roman joined her, slipping his arm around her waist. “You haven’t said a word since we landed.”Alma’s eyes never left the horizon. “Because I’m thinking about how this ends.”He studied her for a moment. “You think it ends here?”“No.” She turned to him, her expression cold. “I think it begins here. Again.”Behind her, Nyx stepped into the room with a duffel bag full of gear. “Petra’s tapped the summit’s servers. Echo’s name isn’t on any list, but three biotech firms tied to Lucien’s old shell companies have RSVPed.”“Backup,” Alma said. “She’s not going alone.”Nyx nodded grimly. “She’s building something. Maybe more clones. Maybe something worse.”Roman turned to Alma. “Whatever it is, we stop it her

The plane ride back from Greenland was a blur.Alma sat by the window, staring at the storm clouds beyond the glass, one hand protectively on her belly. Roman sat beside her, his jaw tight with fury he barely contained. Across the aisle, Petra and Nyx argued in hushed tones over the data extracted from the abandoned lab.Lucien's message echoed in all their minds:"Every heartbeat will carry my whisper."Alma closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the storm building inside her.She had trusted her body again.She had begun to believe that peace was possible.Now, even her unborn child wasn’t safe from Lucien’s reach.Roman turned to her. “We’re getting a full scan the second we land.”She didn’t argue.She couldn’t.Roseland Private Medical Bay, Two Hours LaterPetra had the best geneticist in Europe flown in. The lab was silent, sterile, and tense.Alma lay on the examination table while the scanner glided over her lower belly, mapping each cell, each strand of DNA.Roman stood

The sterile lights of the maximum-security medical ward cast sharp shadows against the walls. The sound of a heartbeat monitor pulsed in rhythmic defiance of the silence.Delilah sat in a white gown, her long hair unbraided and wild like a lioness in captivity. She looked older somehow, despite her youth, haunted. Her hands were folded in her lap, cuffed with thin titanium restraints.She hadn’t spoken since her capture.Until now.She turned to the glass wall and stared at the figures standing just outside it, Roman and Alma.“Are you here to end me?” she called softly, her voice ghosting through the intercom.Alma stared through the glass. She could barely breathe. The face staring back was hers but not quite. The cheekbones were sharper. The eyes colder. But the structure was undeniable. Lucien had engineered her like a painting rendered from pieces of others.And yet what broke Alma most was the realization:Delilah wasn’t just a monster. She was their monster.Roman stepped forwa