chapter 9
I push open the door to his gym and step inside. Zoan is there, suspended upside down, gripping two metal bars, his head close to the ground while his legs stretch vertically toward the ceiling.
Every muscle in his arms flexes under the strain, veins standing out, sweat sliding from his neck down the sharp line of his jaw.
And then, in the blink of an eye, he’s upright again, standing tall. I don’t even register the speed of his movement. That’s how Zoan moves, like a cheetah.
“How was school?”
I smile, a little mischievously. “Too happening.”
He lowers himself onto the floor, ready for push-ups. I climb onto his back, grinning. I do this all the time. I like to measure how strong my brother is.
“How?” he asks between steady rises and falls.
“Dex asked me to go on a coffee date with him.”
For a heartbeat, he pauses. Then he resumes. He doesn’t like me talking about boys. To him, they’re reckless, shallow, incapable of responsibility, and he believes I’ll only end up hurt if I let myself fall for someone at this age.
But what he doesn’t know is that it’s nearly impossible for me to fall for anyone. Because I compare everyone with him. And in front of Zoan, every boy feels small. Not only in size, but in thought, in depth, in understanding.
“But I refused him,” I add, almost proudly. “He’s too childish. I don’t like boys like him.”
“What kind of boys do you like?”
His sudden question catches me off guard. For the first time, instead of dismissing me as too young, he’s showing interest in what I think.
And I do have an answer. A very detailed one. But should I tell him? Should I admit that my idea of the perfect boy looks too much like him?
He stops mid-pushup. I slide down from his back.
Zoan rises, dusting his palms on his pants, and his ice-colored eyes lock onto mine. Demanding an answer.
“I don’t like any type of boys.”
He wipes the sweat from around his neck with a towel.
“If I ever date someone, it will be someone like you,” I add with a smile.
Something shifts in his eyes. They become clearer, sharper, ice without cracks. “Why?” he asks.
I shrug, grinning. “Because you’re the coolest person I’ve ever seen. You’re tall, strong, handsome, intelligent, caring.” I press my grin wider. “And you love me a lot.”
He nods.
Zloban (18 years old)
She only knows the part of me I allow the world to see. Not the shadowed part I bury in silence. The part that craves blood, violence, domination, and complete control over a girl who is just thirteen.
To her, I am the caring, protective big brother. And for now, we both need this illusion. Because the moment it shatters, she will never look at me with those innocent eyes again.
I set the freshly cleaned handgun back into its case among the others.
My hands move automatically, breaking down my Horizon rifle piece by piece.
This weapon was designed by dad, but the modifications are mine.
Sleeker barrel, custom scope, faster recoil recovery.
I run the brush through the chamber, wipe it clean, then blow softly into the receiver before sliding it back together.
Leo steps into my room, walking straight to the balcony. “Did your title reach you?”
I blow across the bolt assembly one last time before locking it into place. “What title?”
He leans against the railing, smirking. “Phantom Sniper. Every shooter in the underworld wants to meet you.”
Last week I pulled the trigger on the military chief from four kilometers away, with Horizon in my hands. Now the news is spreading like wildfire. Limelight. Attention. All the things I despise.
“No one needs to know that sniper is me.”
Leo shrugs. “Of course. People are asking Dad and Uncle, but I don’t think they’ll tell anyone.”
They better not.
Now Dad, Mom, Uncle, and Aunt are all in D.C. Dad and Uncle for business, their wives simply because they can’t bear being away from them.
“Has the new President and Chief been appointed?” I ask.
Leo nods. “The news will be announced tomorrow, but all the formalities are already done.”
Now Dad and Uncle hold absolute power over the States.
The President will be nothing more than a mask while Uncle pulls strings in the shadows.
The military is already under Dad’s grip.
They’ve been working toward this for more than a decade.
Every weapon in the country carries Dad’s design.
And now, even nuclear arsenals and civilization-breaking technologies fall under our control.
“When are you going to test your Zino?” Leo asks.
“The final trial run will be over by next week. Then I’ll test it.”
Zino. A software born from years of my work.
It’s a networked intelligence that sees everything.
Every individual entering this country, every citizen living within its borders, will have a digital identity stored inside Zino’s database.
The moment someone steps under a surveillance camera, whether public, private, street-side, or hidden, Zino will trace them, match their facial structure, gait, and heat signature, and lock them under their identity profile.
Every movement, every interaction, every deviation from a person’s routine will be recorded and analyzed in real time. Even in a crowd of thousands, it can isolate one face. Every human living here is within our accessible sight.
The sound of my door opening comes, followed by the light footsteps.
“Here, girls,” Leo calls.
Avira and Elowen step into the balcony.
“Are we going to shift to D.C.?” Wen asks.
Leo raises a brow. “Who told you that?”
Avira answers, “We heard Bruno and Mark talking about it when we went downstairs.”
“Nothing is confirmed yet,” Leo explains. “If everything stays peaceful, you won’t need to. But if not, then yes, you’ll move there.”
Their expressions fall.
I lean back in my chair, watching. “If you don’t want to shift, you can always stay with Ma and Pa.”
Their faces brighten instantly. But the happiness on my Dove’s face doesn’t linger. It flickers for only a moment, then fades.
She asks, “Will you also come to live with us?”
I shake my head.
“Then where will you live?”
“Leo and I will stay here to manage the businesses.” That’s the plan.
I’ll take over Nexoil and Iron Veil, while Leo manages Velante Corp.
For the first year, that’s all we’ll focus on.
After that, we’ll start working directly with Uncle and Dad, taking our place beside the two most powerful men in the nation.
Her face brightens with hope. “Then we both could stay here with you.”
Leo shakes his head. “We’ll be traveling a lot. You both will either stay with our parents or with Ma and Pa.”
Wen pouts. “Why does that sound like an excuse? Why will you travel?”
“Next month we’re going to Russia. We’ll stay there for two months. After that, if our parents shift to D.C., we’ll have to travel between D.C. and here a lot for the next few years, at least until everything stabilizes.”
I stand. “It’s a conversation for another day. Nothing is confirmed yet.”
Walking back inside, I place the rifle and gun cases back in their spot.
Leo and Wen exchange good nights and leave.
Avira sits on my bed, clutching a pillow to her chest.
I sit down across from her. “Why are you making such a face?”
“I don’t want to live away from you.”
Neither do I. But I can’t say it aloud. Distance creates uncertainty, and uncertainty is a risk I refuse to take when it comes to her. Yet I also won’t let her stay here under compromised security, no matter how much I want her near me.