Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 121 - Chapitre 130

Amber POVWe didn’t move immediately.Even with everything we knew.Even with where he might be.We waited.Jason was the one who made that call.I watched him as he stepped slightly away, phone already in hand, his posture shifting back into that controlled, dangerous calm I had come to recognize.Not Jason.Cronos.“Scott,” he said when the line connected.A pause.Then his tone lowered, precise and direct.“I need backup.”I leaned against the table, arms crossed, watching him as he listened.“No,” he added after a second. “Not a full team. Just coverage.”Another pause.His jaw tightened slightly.“How long?”Silence stretched.Then—“Two days?”His voice didn’t rise, but I could hear the restraint in it.I pushed myself off the table, walking closer.Jason ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.“…Fine,” he said finally. “Two days.”He ended the call without another word.For a moment, he just stood there.Still.Thinking.Calculating.“Scott Highins?” I asked softly.He no

The call came sooner than expected.Jason’s phone vibrated once, and he answered immediately.“Scott.”I watched his expression carefully as he listened. His face became still, focused, and dangerously calm.After a brief pause, he said, “Understood.”He ended the call and turned to me.“Everything is ready.”I nodded, feeling my focus sharpen instantly.“Then we move.”Jason agreed without hesitation.We prepared quickly. We changed into black clothing, keeping our gear light and efficient. There was no room for excess or mistakes. This was not a full-scale operation. This was precision.Two people.In and out.Jason checked his equipment while I reviewed the building layout one last time. Entry points, blind spots, heat signatures—everything was clear in my mind.Three contained.One moving.A trap.And we were walking into it anyway.Jason stepped closer and adjusted something on my shoulder. His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary.“Stay close,” he said quietly.I g

We moved deeper into the room.Careful.Measured.Every step deliberate.The further in we went—The worse it became.The cages weren’t random.They were organized.Labeled.Cataloged.I forced myself not to focus on that.Not now.Because something else caught my attention.A wall of screens.Old monitors.New ones.All connected.All active.Live feeds.Jason stepped beside me as I reached them.Neither of us spoke.We just looked.Camera angles shifted across the screens.The elevator.The entrance.The stairwell.Then—Another feed.My breath caught.A different room.Brighter.Contained.And inside—Emilian.Jason went still beside me.Emilian stood in the center of the frame.Perfectly composed.Except—He wasn’t.His movements were sharp.Sudden.Uncontrolled.In front of him—A man on the ground.Cooper Becker.Emilian’s father.And Emilian—Was hitting him.Again.And again.And again.Each strike precise.Brutal.Relentless.The sound wasn’t there—But I could feel it.The i

The mist thickened.Not enough to choke.Not enough to panic.Just enough—to distract.I forced myself to breathe slowly.Controlled.Measured.Jason stayed close.Too close.His hand at my waist hadn’t moved.And that—That was becoming a problem.On the screen, Emilian smiled again.“Let’s begin,” he said.I didn’t answer.“Phase one of the Bride Games.”The words echoed, almost ceremonial.“You like challenges, don’t you, Amber?”I crossed my arms.“Depends on who’s asking.”He chuckled softly.“There is a bomb,” he said.Jason’s grip tightened.I didn’t react.Not outwardly.“Located in your university,” Emilian continued. “A place you seem to have such… fondmemories of.”My eyes flicked briefly to the screens.He tapped something out of frame.And coordinates appeared.Exact.Precise.Jason leaned closer, his voice low.“He’s not bluffing.”I already knew that.“Disarm it,” Emilian said calmly. “From here.”I glanced around.And there it was.A laptop.Placed deliberately on a

I moved deeper into the room, forcing myself to ignore the screens for a moment.The cages.The men.The threat.All of it could wait.This was a puzzle.And Emilian never did anything without intention.I slowed my steps and began to observe more carefully. What had looked like scattered debris at first glance began to form a pattern the longer I looked.There were pieces everywhere.Metal components.Wires.Joints.Small mechanical parts.Not random.I crouched down and picked up one of the pieces. It was light, precise, and clearly manufactured with purpose.Not scrap.I turned it in my hand, my eyes narrowing slightly.This felt familiar.I stood and moved to another section, picking up a different piece. Then another.A joint.A wiring cluster.A partially assembled frame.Then I noticed the papers.I reached for them and unfolded one.Schematics.But incomplete.I found another sheet a few steps away. Then another.The instructions were not in one place. They were spread across