Fractures
Morning came with the smell of smoke and silence.
The mansion was still standing, but barely.
Windows shattered, alarms still echoing faintly, guards moving like ghosts through the wreckage.
Clara sat on the steps, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the blackened garden.
Ethan stood beside Damien, inspecting the damage. His jaw was clenched, his eyes distant.
"They knew every entry point," Damien said quietly. "Someone fed them intel from the inside."
Ethan nodded. "Find out who. No one leaves this house until we know."
He turned away, exhaustion lining his face — but what weighed on him most wasn't the damage. It was the growing truth: his enemies weren't guessing anymore. They knew his every move.
And someone close to him was helping them.
---
Later, in his office, Ethan sat at his desk, turning a silver pen in his fingers. Clara entered quietly.
"You should rest," she said softly.
He looked up, his eyes dark and haunted. "I can't. Not while they're still out there."
She crossed the room, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone in this."
He met her gaze — and for the first time, something inside him cracked. "That's what scares me."
Before she could respond, Damien burst through the door.
"We found something," he said, breathless. "Footage from the outer gate. You need to see this."
Ethan stood quickly. Damien handed him the tablet — the screen flickered to life.
The video showed a car pulling up to the gate hours before the attack. The driver stepped out, head lowered under a hood.
But when they lifted it briefly — Clara gasped.
It was Isabella.
But she wasn't alone.
Standing beside her — calm, confident — was a man neither of them had seen in years.
Marcus.
Ethan's blood ran cold.
"They're all working together," Damien said grimly. "Isabella, Aiden, Victor — and Marcus is leading them."
Clara's voice trembled. "What does he want, Ethan?"
He looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"Everything I've ever built," he said quietly. "And this time… he might just get it."
The room went silent — until a soft buzz came from Ethan's phone.
A message flashed across the screen:
"Round one was just a warning. Next time, I take her."
Clara's heart froze.
Ethan's fingers tightened around the phone until the glass cracked.
"Let him try," he whispered.
But deep down, they both knew — the real war had just begun.