Velvet and vengeance: stripped by the enemy のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 171 - チャプター 180

“A Letter”Jace’s POVLucian paced around the room for a solid minute. He picked up the tablet once more and dropped it, screen first, on the hard surface of the table. I sat up to try to comfort him, wrapping my hands around his arm and forearm. “Lucian…” I whispered to him. My own head was a mess of worries and ideas, I couldn’t call the kettle black while I was the pot, so I just shut my mouth after saying his name.Let me take you back to how we got to this point. Lucian and I had retuned from Dimitri’s grave after paying our respects. We hadn’t left the scarf behind and Lucian held onto the red scarf we had seen and kept it an archive of some sort. With that, we went to sleep, exhaustion from the past few days finally taking over. It was as though the world was waiting for us to lower our guards like that, because everything happened within the few hours window. We woke up to noise that blared from my phone beside the corner. I groaned, tapping my hand on the bedside to turn o

“Rooted Pressure”Jace’s POVWe had moved to the safe estate in Barcelona after the courier had delivered the letter. It was clear we were being watched closely; our location had been far too easy to find out, and we didn’t put it above our enemy to exploit that. Lucian suggested the move. He held my hand tightly, his worry and possessiveness showing blatantly. “It would be best if we went somewhere safer, Jace.” He had said, his voice but a whisper, as though he was scared of someone listening in on our conversation. “That’d be good.” I replied, my own delight with the idea being very difficult to hide, I didn’t even need any time to think about it, I simply wrapped my other hand over his own and shook it with a smile on my face. We were sitting in one of the rooms. It was dimly lit, with an additional lamp where we were, warm air that barely flowed and walls that looked like they would use a makeover. On the table, we had previous works books. Journals, letters, even small trinke

“Network In Motion”Maraleona’s POVThe air in the secure room was cold, as it always was. The thermostat did couldn’t suddenly make the place a beach in the muddle of summer, so I bore through it. It was a space designed for total privacy, soundproofed and shielded. Across the table from me sat Cypher, that wasn’t his real name, but it was the only one I ever used. He was one of the secret pieces in my game, the ghost who had helped me mimic Dimitri’s coding signature. “Cypher…” I started, keeping my voice levelled, smooth and cold. He shifted in is seat momentarily, his eyes not meeting mine. “We had a breach. The broadcast. Someone else copied my work, right after I sent it. You helped create the digital mask. Did you let anyone see the face beneath?” His eyes danced around the room, finding interest in every piece of imperfection the room held. When he finally looked me in the eyes, I didn’t see any trace of fear, just a highly calculating gaze that thought more that it could se

“Man Hunt”Third Person’s POVThe world had shifted. It was subtle, small changes that didn’t call for attention but would eventually cause mayhem for a lot of people. Hidden within the boundaries of the east, was a politically neutral zone that men tended to avoid. It was a place where anything would go. Whatever happened in the neutral zone, stayed in the neutral zone. Deep in the heart was a small, unmarked warehouse, three figures stood round a black table. The thing about this zone was, yes, it was where temporary alliances were made, but it was also where people died without a trace of who was responsible. The three figures’ eyes one another, eyes filled with distrust and malice. But they kept their emotions in check. They hated each other, but the memory of the alleged resurrected king was enough for them to swallow their prides. Madame Gao, the quiet, lethal representative of the fractured Yakuza, Silas, he scarred chieftain of the Iron Vei, and Virion, the voice of the uni

“Evening Buzz”Jace’s POVThe world was on a mission to rid the news of a walking dead man. The areas of hunting increased and just about everyone and their mother was looking for remains. Information kept rolling out in record time. Alleged sightings, false informants that sold nothing for outrageous amounts, and people opening searching far and wide for information that Dimitri's mother had already destroyed. If there was one thing I would admit, they were persistent. But beneath the perseverance to find what hadn't been lost, there was still fear clouding their eyes. I could tell by how they moved, the slow but gradual conversion to join the hunt, and the desperation they worked with, almost like they needed this to be true because the other option was far from favourable. We kept a healthy distance while we went through our own means to find the truth. I was sat in the study, observing the erratic movements of the mass. Slowly but surely, everyone who had shook in fear before wa