홈 / Werewolf / ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter / 챕터 61 - 챕터 70

ALHPA ABRAM: And the four daughter의 모든 챕터: 챕터 61 - 챕터 70

121 챕터

BOOK 2- 1

"Your lineage ends today, Thorne. Sign the transfer or the federal marshals will be the ones explaining to your grandkids why their trust funds just evaporated."Elara didn't blink as the old Alpha’s pen hovered over the digital pad. The Pit was silent, save for the hum of the subterranean ventilation. Twelve Elders sat like statues, watching the girl they once dismissed as a human plaything dismantle a century-old bloodline."You’re a cold bitch, Elara," Thorne spat. He signed. The haptic feedback on her tablet chimed—a billion dollars in assets shifted into her shell company."I’m the person holding the pen," Elara said, standing up. She straightened her charcoal blazer, but the room didn't stay still. The obsidian table tilted forty-five degrees. The faces of the Elders smeared into a grey blur. "I—""Elara?" Vane’s voice sounded miles away.The floor rushed up to meet her. The last sensation was the grit of the sand against her cheek and the sudden, frantic scrape of chairs agains

2

"Sign the order, Vane. Now. Every entry point from the docks to the subways gets a hard seal."Abram didn’t look up from the bank of monitors. The blue light of the security feed washed over his face, turning his skin into a cold, digital mask. Behind him, the elevator to the penthouse hissed shut. A team of men in sterile white scrubs marched past, carrying crates marked with heavy surgical red crosses."A total lockdown? For the whole district?" Vane’s voice cracked through the intercom. "The Syndicate Elders are going to lose their minds. You’re cutting off their revenue, Abram. You’re choking the city.""Let them choke." Abram slammed a palm onto the console. "No one enters. No one leaves. If a bird flies over the Silas border, shoot it down. I want this building turned into a bunker. Move the surgical unit to the floor below the master suite. Now!"Elara stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, her fingers digging into the silk of her robe. Below, the streets were a mess of black SUV

3

"Who authorized the exit of his vehicle? Answer me before I take your fingers!"Abram’s voice thundered through the garage, vibrating the concrete pillars. He stood over a slumped figure in the driver's seat of a black sedan. Marcus, the man who had moved billions for the Silas-Vane merger, sat with his head tilted at an impossible angle. A single, clean puncture mark sat at the base of his skull. No blood. Just a neat, professional kill."Sir, the sensors... they didn't trip. We thought he was just heading home," the guard stammered, his boots scraping against the oil-stained floor as he backed away.Abram slammed his fist into the roof of the sedan. The metal buckled with a screech. "He was my eyes on the Marcone accounts! You let a ghost walk into the most secure garage in the city and snuff him out!"Elara watched from the elevator bay, her hand resting on the cold steel of the frame. The air in the garage smelled of exhaust and ozone. The weight of the lockdown was supposed to ma

4

"What the hell took you so long to pick up?"Elara pressed the burner phone against her ear, her other hand white-knuckled against the marble edge of the bathroom counter. The ventilation fan hummed overhead, a mechanical buzz meant to mask her voice from the hidden microphones Abram had scattered through the suite."I don't know you," a gravelly voice rasped on the other end. "Who gave you this line?""Vane. Three years ago. He said if the world turned into a furnace, you were the only one who could find the exit." Elara’s breath hitched as a sharp kick radiated from her lower abdomen. Six weeks. The clock was a lead weight in her chest. "I need a ghost, Silas. I need to be gone. No paper trail. No biometric signature. Just... gone.""That kind of magic costs. A lot.""I have the offshore accounts from the Petrov merger. Untraceable cash. Just tell me you can bypass a level-five lockdown.""The Silas district? Shit. That's a tomb, girl. I'll need a week to map the dead zones. Keep yo

5

"What the fuck is this, Abram? Get your hands off the instruments."The medical wing smelled of copper and industrial bleach. Doctor Aris lay across his own examination table, his neck twisted at an angle that made the vertebrae grate. His eyes were wide, glassy, staring at nothing. Propped between his stiffening jaws was a single, vibrant blue cornflower. The petals looked wet. Fresh."Get back, Elara!" Abram shoved her toward the wall, his palm hitting her shoulder with enough force to make her teeth rattle. He didn't look at her. He crouched by the corpse, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the steel table. "He was the only one who knew the dosage. The only one. Vane! Lock the ventilation. Now!""The ventilation is fine, Abram. Look at his mouth. That’s not a Syndicate hit." Elara wiped a smudge of the doctor's blood from her sleeve. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm she hoped he couldn't hear. "The Syndicate uses piano wire or lead. This is... it’s a

6

"John? Is that you?"Elara lunged at the full-length mirror in the dressing room, her palms slamming against the cold glass. The reflection showed only her—hair matted with sweat, a bruise blooming like a dark plum on her shoulder where Abram had pinned her. But for a split second, a silhouette had stood in the corner of the frame. A man with a lopsided grin and a faded denim jacket. The ghost of the village."Fuck. Get it together, Elara," she hissed. Her breath fogged the glass, obscuring her own wide eyes.She turned away, her legs heavy and uncoordinated. The hormones were a toxic soup in her blood. Six weeks. The child—the Silas heir—felt like a lead weight pulling her toward the floor. Every surface in the penthouse had become a predator. The mahogany walls closed in. The silence hummed with a frequency that made her teeth ache."You’re talking to glass now? That’s a new low, even for you."Abram stood in the doorway. He hadn't used the lock. He just loomed there, his massive fr

7

"Get the fuck away from the glass!"Abram’s voice cracked like a whip across the suite. The sound of the primary window detonating followed a millisecond later. A high-velocity round punched through the reinforced pane, turning the three-inch thick laminate into a spray of diamond-sharp dust. The air pressure in the room shifted violently, sucking the heavy velvet curtains toward the jagged hole.Elara hit the floor, her palms skidding on the marble. Shards of glass sliced into her knees. Blood, hot and sudden, soaked into the hem of her white silk robe."Abram! Where the hell are they?""South-east roof. Six hundred yards." Abram lunged across the rug, his massive frame a blur of motion. He didn't grab her arm; he threw his entire weight over her, pinning her to the floorboards as a second round hissed through the opening and buried itself in the mahogany headboard above their pillows. Plaster dust rained down. "Don't move. Stay under me."His chest heaved against her spine. He was a

8

"Don't move, Silas. I mean it. One more step and I’ll put a hole in that denim jacket to match the one in your head."Elara’s voice didn't shake. The 9mm was a heavy, cold extension of her arm. She stood naked in the red emergency light of the sub-basement, her skin slick with the sweat and salt of Abram’s departure. The man in the elevator bay stayed still. The shadows obscured his eyes, but the lopsided grin remained, fixed and eerie."You always did have a shitty aim when you were scared, Elara."The voice vibrated through the small concrete box. It wasn't a recording. It was rich, textured, and carried the specific, low rasp of a man who had smoked too many cheap cigarettes in a village that no longer existed."John is dead," Elara spat. Her finger tightened on the trigger. "I watched the casket go into the dirt. I saw the scorched earth. You’re just another hallucination from the grey sludge Abram’s been feeding me. Or you’re one of Thorne’s pets in a mask.""Masks don't bleed."

9

"Where the fuck is the access panel, Silas? I'm running out of air and patience!"Elara's voice was a jagged whisper, lost in the metallic drone of the sub-station. She shoved aside a stack of rusted crates, her knuckles scraping against the rough pine. The red emergency light pulsed, casting long, rhythmic shadows that made the pipes look like twitching limbs."Shut up and look for the yellow stencil," the Fixer rasped through the earpiece. The signal was degrading, buried under layers of concrete and lead shielding. "It’s hidden behind the intake for the secondary grid. If you miss it, you’re just a rat in a box when Abram seals the level.""I found it." Elara kicked a loose floorboard away. There, etched into the grime-caked metal, was a fading 'Y-14' stencil. She jammed her fingers into the narrow gap of the vent cover, pulling until the steel screeched. The grate popped free, hitting the floor with a hollow clang. "I’m in. Now give me the extraction coordinates.""Not so fast, ho

10

"Who the hell is really on the other end of this link, Vane?"Elara gripped the edge of the van’s bolted-down bench, her knuckles white as the vehicle swerved through the rain-slicked industrial district. The Fixer didn't look back from the driver's seat. He just tapped the tablet mounted to the dashboard. The screen flickered, a grainy gray-and-green night vision feed stabilizing into a sharp high-definition image."Just watch the screen, Elara," the Fixer rasped. "You wanted the truth about the valley. Here it is. Live feed. Satellite patched through a dead-drop in Zurich."The camera was positioned high, likely in the branches of one of the charred oaks that still stood like skeletal sentries over the valley. The ground was a wasteland of ash and frozen mud, but the focal point was unmistakable. A headstone. White marble, cracked down the middle, inscribed with a name that had been the anchor of Elara’s grief for three years.Johnathan Thorne."Why are we looking at a grave?" Elara

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