Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 26

Elena’s P.O.V.The smell of copper and iron wouldn't wash off.I stood in the master bathroom of the Vance estate, my hands submerged in a basin of ice-cold water, scrubbing at my skin until it burned raw. The water turned a pale, sickly pink, swirling around the drain before disappearing. No matter how long I held my hands under the tap, I could still feel the warmth of my father’s life spilling through my fingers onto the cold atrium floor.The door behind me creaked open softly.Daphne stepped inside, holding a silk towel. She had showered and changed into a sharp, high-collared black pantsuit, her identical face devoid of any tears, her eyes completely deadened into cold, black slate. The grief that had consumed us in the atrium had frozen solid, crystallizing into something lethal.She handed me the towel, her fingers brushing against mine."The board of directors is assembled in the grand parlor," Daphne said, her voice dropping into a flat, steady pitch that held no room for he

Elena’s P.O.V.The air inside the underground operating theatre didn't just feel cold—it felt thick, heavy with the suffocating stench of rotting blood, ozone, and industrial-grade iodine.The heavy steel door swung shut behind us with a deep, echoing thud that vibrated through the damp concrete floor beneath our boots. The sound was absolute. It sealed off the faint, distant echoes of gunfire from the upper corridors, locking the four of us in a tomb carved into the subterranean darkness of North Ridge.Emergency surgical monitors hummed in a low, erratic rhythm—beep... beep... beep... their erratic green lines casting sickly, rhythmic flashes of light across the cracked tiled walls. Glass jars filled with yellowing formaldehyde lined stainless steel shelving, reflecting the dark silhouettes of three executioners stepping through the shadows.And there, in the center of the room beneath a rusted overhead surgical lamp, sat the monster who had ripped our world apart.Victoria Sterling

Elena’s P.O.V.The glass facade of the newly restored Sterling Global Tower glistened beneath the crisp autumn sun, reflecting a sky purged of storm clouds.Three weeks had passed since the fires of St. Jude’s turned Victoria’s final stronghold to ash. Three weeks since Julian and Sophia vanished into the nameless high-desert dark. To the public, the chaos that had rocked the city was framed as a tragic corporate restructuring following the sudden, heroic death of Chairman Arthur Sterling.Today, the world was invited to witness the rebirth.I stood in the holding suite on the seventy-fifth floor, staring at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. I wore a tailored, floor-length gown of midnight-blue velvet, structured with sharp, silver-plated shoulder guards that mimicked modern armor. Around my neck hung the Sterling crest—a heavy platinum pendant set with a sapphire as deep as oceanic trench water.The door behind me clicked open.Daphne walked in, a vision of absolute twin