The Gathering Storm
The next morning brought no calm — only tension that settled in everyone's bones.
Ethan called for a private meeting in the mansion's library. The grand room, once filled with the scent of old books and quiet peace, now felt like a war room.
Damien stood by the door, his usual grin missing. Mia sat with her laptop open, lines of code reflecting in her eyes. Clara paced near the window, restless.
Ethan stood before them, composed but burning from the inside. "Victor's moving faster than expected. Marcus has access to our internal systems — which means he's not working alone."
Damien frowned. "Then who's helping him?"
Mia hesitated. "Someone high enough to override clearance levels. It's not just an inside leak… it's a ghost account with admin privileges."
"Meaning?" Clara asked.
"Meaning," Mia said grimly, "Marcus might not be the only Blackwood working against you."
The room went silent.
Ethan's hand tightened on the table. "Say it."
Mia swallowed. "Eleanor."
Clara froze. "His mother?"
Ethan didn't speak. His face was unreadable — but his pulse roared in his ears. Eleanor Blackwood had built half of his empire with her influence. If she was involved…
"It's not possible," he muttered. "She wouldn't side with him."
Mia looked up. "The transactions don't lie. Her account shows direct transfers to Victor's shell companies."
Damien exhaled. "So let me get this straight — your brother's funding your enemy, your mother's bankrolling him, and I'm the idiot stuck in the middle without hazard pay."
Clara glared. "Not helping, Damien."
"I'm coping!" he said, throwing up his hands.
Ethan turned away, gripping the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. "If she's part of this, then the rot started long before Marcus."
Clara stepped closer. "Ethan, you can't face them alone."
He looked at her, his voice low and fierce. "You think I can stand by while they destroy everything we built?"
She met his gaze, unyielding. "I think you can fight smarter — not like them."
Their eyes locked, tension crackling between anger and affection.
Mia interrupted softly. "There's one more thing."
They turned to her.
She hesitated, then pushed a USB drive toward Ethan. "This… was hidden in Victor's server. I decrypted it this morning."
He plugged it into the laptop.
A video appeared.
It was grainy but clear enough — Victor sitting at his desk, speaking directly into the camera.
> "To Ethan Knight," Victor's voice said smoothly.
"By the time you see this, you'll have lost more than your company. You'll have lost trust — the one thing you never learned to give. Every empire falls, Ethan. Some from greed. Others… from love."
The video ended.
Ethan stared at the blank screen, a chill running through him.
Clara whispered, "What does he mean by that?"
Before anyone could answer, the lights flickered — once, twice — then went out completely.
The mansion plunged into darkness.
Damien muttered, "And here I was hoping for a normal Tuesday."
A moment later, the sound of the front doors creaked open downstairs. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.
Mia's voice trembled. "We're not alone."
Ethan moved first, grabbing the nearest weapon from the display wall — an old ceremonial dagger.
He looked toward the stairs, his voice steady but low. "Stay here."
Clara caught his hand. "Ethan—"
He squeezed her fingers gently, meeting her eyes. "If it's him, this ends tonight."
And from below, a voice rose through the silence — smooth, mocking, and familiar.
"Still dramatic, brother?"
Marcus.