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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 121
The Inner SanctumThe door slid shut behind me with a quiet finality, the hiss of its mechanism echoing in the vast chamber ahead. Julian stood at the far end, hands clasped behind his back, poised like a king surveying his kingdom. The room was sleek, metallic, and cold—much like the man himself. I could hear the hum of the machines embedded in the walls, the quiet pulse of something alive yet artificial.Julian turned, a knowing smile carving into his face. His dark eyes gleamed, sharp with something unreadable."You’ve come full circle, haven’t you?"My muscles coiled with tension. I’d fought my way through hell to get here. Fought through guards, through deception, through my own doubts. But the way he said it like he already knew something I didn’t—it sent a chill skittering down my spine."You think this is a game?" I growled, stepping closer.Julian chuckled softly. "No, Nathan. I think this is the end of a very long game. And I think—no, I know—that you don’t remember how it t
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 122
The Forgotten TruthThe silence stretched, suffocating and absolute.My own face stared back at me from the flickering screen, the younger version of myself standing beside Julian, eyes sharp, posture strong, voice unwavering."The Oath is the future," my recorded self-declared. "Only through order can we ensure survival."The words echoed in my head like a gunshot.My stomach twisted. My mind screamed at me to deny it. To call it a trick. A fabrication. Anything but the truth staring me in the face."No," I muttered under my breath.But I couldn’t look away.Julian’s smirk deepened as he took slow, calculated steps toward me. He wasn’t just savoring my confusion—he was relishing it."Look at him, Nathan," Julian said, nodding toward the screen. "Look at yourself."My body felt like lead.Everything in me wanted to turn away, to pretend this wasn’t happening. But my legs refused to move. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms, desperate for something—anything—re
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 123
Mind vs. MemoryI couldn't breathe.The walls of Julian’s sanctum felt like they were closing in, thick with the weight of truths I wasn’t ready to face. My own voice still echoed from the screen behind me—words I didn’t remember saying, convictions I didn’t remember holding.But there I was. Unshaken. Resolute.A man I didn’t know. A man I used to be."This is what they do, Nathan," Julian said, his voice smooth, assured. "They rewrite history. Make you believe you were always the hero."My hands curled into fists. I could still feel my nails digging into my palms, grounding me in the moment, but my mind was slipping. The room felt too hot. My pulse is too fast.Elias wouldn’t have done this.Would he?"Elias saved me," I forced out. "I was nothing before he found me."Julian scoffed. "You weren’t ‘nothing.’ You were one of the most promising minds The Oath had ever seen. The man on that screen?" He gestured to the frozen image of my younger self. "That man was destined for greatness
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 124
The Battle BeginsJulian moved first.I barely had time to react before his fist connected with my ribs, a brutal strike that sent a shockwave of pain through my torso. My breath hitched, but I forced myself to move, twisting away before his next blow could land. Instinct took over. My grip tightened around the gun in my hand—a weapon I had trained with for years. A weapon I could use to end this now.But I didn’t pull the trigger.I couldn’t.Not yet.Julian saw the hesitation and smirked, his expression full of something darkly amused. “You always had potential,” he murmured, circling me like a predator sizing up its prey. “But Elias softened you. He made you forget what you are.”I swung the gun toward him, but he ducked at the last second, slipping past my strike with an ease that sent a sickening chill down my spine. His movements were too precise, too familiar—like a mirror reflecting my own.Because once upon a time, they were my own."I trained you once," Julian whispered as h
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 125
Strength vs. ConvictionJulian’s blade pressed against my throat, cold and unwavering. His weight pinned me down, his knee digging into my ribs, making it hard to breathe. I could see the satisfaction in his eyes, that infuriating smirk that told me he thought he had already won.I refused to let him be right.Gritting my teeth, I twisted my body sharply, using every ounce of strength I had left. The sudden movement knocked Julian slightly off balance—a small opening, but it was enough. I grabbed his wrist, forced the knife away from my throat, and drove my knee up into his ribs.He grunted, but his grip didn’t loosen.Instead, he laughed."Still got some fight in you, I see."I used the moment to roll us over, reversing our positions. Now I was on top, pinning him down. My fist connected with his jaw, a sharp, satisfying crack that sent blood spraying from his lip."I’ve got more than fight," I snarled, my breath ragged. "I’ve got conviction."Julian smirked, even as blood trickled f
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 126
Breaking PointI stared at the screen, my pulse hammering in my ears. The room was dark except for the sickly glow of the monitor, casting sharp shadows across the desk. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating.This was it.The truth—or another lie wrapped in the illusion of certainty.With a slow breath, I plugged the flash drive in. The screen flickered. A single file appeared: FOR NATHAN.I clicked.A grainy video began to play.At first, the image was distorted, glitching in and out, the sound coming in waves of static. Then, clarity.Elias.My breath caught as his face filled the screen, older than I remembered, his sharp features drawn with exhaustion. He was in a dimly lit room, sitting across from someone just outside the frame. Shadows flickered over his face as he leaned forward, his hands folded tightly together."Nathan was too far gone," he said.My stomach twisted."We had to break him," Elias continued, his voice low, urgent. "We had to make him hate The Oath."
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 127
Elias’ Lie?Julian’s smirk stretched slow and knowing, like he could see straight through me, peeling back the layers of my doubt, my rage, my fractured sense of self. His voice dripped with quiet satisfaction."Now," he murmured, tilting his head, "do you still want to kill me? Or do you want the real truth?"The words slithered into my mind, wrapping tight around the cracks already forming.The real truth.What did that even mean anymore? I had built my war against The Oath on what I believed to be right. I had fought, killed, and bled for this fight. But now, after everything—after the video of Elias, after hearing him say he had to break me, after watching myself on that screen pledging allegiance to the very thing I swore to destroy—Had I been fighting against myself this entire time?My fingers twitched toward my weapon, my body caught between instinct and hesitation. I needed to act, to move, but I didn’t.And that hesitation—It cost me.Julian moved.A whisper of motion, too
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 128
Unshaken ResolveJulian's knife shot toward my ribs, a blur of steel and intent.Instinct roared through me.I twisted at the last second, feeling the cold edge graze my side, but my grip clamped down on his wrist before he could drive the blade deeper. The pain burned where the blade had nicked me, but I ignored it. Pain is nothing. Hesitation is everything.Julian’s strength matched mine, his muscles coiled like steel cables as he pushed against my hold. The knife trembled between us, its tip barely an inch from my body. His smirk remained, but his eyes—sharp, predatory—were studying me, assessing me. Looking for weakness.I gritted my teeth. He won’t find any."Maybe I was one of you," I growled, my voice rough, unyielding. "But I made my choice."Julian let out a breathy chuckle, his amusement laced with something darker. "Did you?" he murmured. "Or did Elias make it for you?"The words hit like a fist to my gut.For a moment, everything blurred.Elias’ voice—steady, commanding—ec
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 220
The Last ThoughtI stare at my reflection, my breath uneven, my eyes hollow. The glass is cracked—thin fractures running like veins across the surface, distorting my face. Fitting.The overhead light flickers, casting brief shadows across the room. It’s cold. Not the kind of cold that bites at your skin, but the kind that settles in your bones, that tells you something is coming. The kind that makes you wonder if it’s always been there, waiting.I press my palms against the sink, fingers curling against the porcelain. The weight in my chest isn’t fear. It isn’t regret. It’s something worse. A question with no answer.Behind me, the door creaks open. A slow, deliberate sound. My hand moves instinctively to my gun, but I already know who it is."That the last time you’re gonna check yourself out, Nathan?" a voice teases, rough with amusement.I smirk, though it feels foreign on my face. "Figured I should see what’s left of me before I walk out that door."Jackson leans against the doorf
CHAPTER 219
The End of the LineThe city is quiet. Too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace, but the kind that signals something is about to break. It settles over the skyline, heavy, waiting. The streets are empty, but the ghosts of what I’ve built, of what I’ve destroyed, linger in the alleyways and shadowed corners.I stand at the edge of it all, watching from the rooftop of an old high-rise, the cold wind whipping against my face. Below me, the pieces are moving, each player stepping into position, some thinking they’re the ones holding the strings. They aren’t.They never were.Jackson shifts beside me, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He’s restless. Always is before things go south.“You sure about this?” he asks.I don’t answer right away. Because there’s no easy answer. No right one, either.He sighs, shaking his head. “You always do this. Get in too deep and think you can control every variable. But this—” he gestures to the streets below, to the quiet before the storm
CHAPTER 218
The Final MoveThe city is waiting.It doesn't know it yet, but the tides are shifting. Power doesn’t disappear; it transforms and morphs into something new, something unrecognizable until it’s already taken hold. I’ve seen it happen too many times to count. This time, I’m the one pulling the strings.This time, it ends on my terms.I stand in the shadows of an empty warehouse, the scent of oil and dust thick in the air. The city hums outside, its lights flickering through the gaps in the rusted metal walls. Jackson stands beside me, his body tense, arms crossed. He’s waiting for me to explain, to tell him what comes next.I let the silence stretch before I finally speak.“We’re not burning it down.”Jackson’s head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing. “What?”I meet his stare, my voice steady. “We’re not wiping the board clean. We’re flipping it.”For the first time in a long time, Jackson looks unsure. He shifts his weight, jaw tightening as he processes my words. “You said yourself—this
CHAPTER 217
The Final CrossroadsThe city hums beneath me, restless and alive. From this rooftop, I see everything—the neon glow stretching into the horizon, the winding streets below, the fractured heartbeat of a place that never stops moving. A world of light and shadow, built on secrets, power, and debts that can never truly be repaid.The air is thick with the scent of rain and asphalt, the faintest trace of gasoline lingering in the wind. It’s the smell of something on the verge of combustion, of a city always teetering on the edge of chaos. I tighten my grip on the cigarette between my fingers, watching the ember glow in the dark, a tiny heartbeat against the cold night. I don’t smoke. Not really. I just like the way it feels—holding something that’s burning, something that’s alive for just a little while before it fades into nothing.I should walk away.I should let it all burn.But I don’t.Because no matter how much I tell myself that I don’t care anymore, that none of it matters, the tr
CHAPTER 216
The Last Time He Sees RileyThe air is colder than I expected. Maybe that’s fitting. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.She’s already there when I arrive, standing near the edge of the pier, arms folded tight against the wind. The city sprawls behind her, all light and noise, but out here, it’s just the quiet lapping of the water and the space between us.Riley doesn’t turn when I approach.“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says, her voice carrying over the water, calm but unreadable.I stop a few feet away. Close enough to feel the weight of her presence. Far enough to know I shouldn’t get any closer.“Neither was I,” I admit.She exhales a slow, steady breath. “You look the same.”“So do you.”A lie.There’s something different in her now. Something more guarded, more distant. Like she’s finally built the walls she should’ve had when we were younger.Like she’s learned.She turns, finally meeting my gaze, and for a moment, it’s just us. No past, no future. Just this one sliver of t
CHAPTER 215
The Fall of KingsThe thing about power is that it never learns.It moves through different hands, dresses itself in new suits, and speaks in fresh voices. But underneath, it’s always the same: greed, arrogance, and the inevitable mistake of thinking you can control what was never meant to be tamed.Ronan believed he could do it differently.I watch from the shadows as he proves himself wrong.---The city is quieter these days. Not because the storm has passed, but because it’s waiting to break.I see it in the way people move, the way deals are whispered instead of spoken. Ronan’s reign is still fresh, but already, the cracks are showing.And he doesn’t even realize it.Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s just too proud to admit it.I’m standing outside a high-rise downtown, watching from across the street. Up there, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, Ronan is playing king. A meeting’s in progress—his men, his allies, his problems.He thinks he has time. He thinks he’s in control.He doesn’t
CHAPTER 214
The Last WarningThe city breathes differently when men like Ronan step into power.It’s a slow shift, subtle. The same streets, the same lights flickering over cracked pavement, the same late-night murmurs of business and betrayal. But there’s a tension now, a new weight pressing down like the first signs of a storm.I know it because I’ve felt it before. I did it before.Which is why I know exactly how this ends.---I picked the place. Neutral ground. A quiet, high-end bar tucked away in the heart of the city, the kind where power plays out in whispered deals and expensive whiskey. A place where men like Ronan feel at home.I sit in a booth at the far end, back to the wall, watching the entrance. He’s late. Not long enough to be disrespectful, just enough to establish control. Classic move.When he finally steps inside, he moves like he owns the place.Not in the way Cormac did, with brute force and intimidation. No, Ronan is more refined. His presence doesn’t demand attention—it i
CHAPTER 213
The New ProtégéThe city doesn’t rest, and neither do the people hungry for its power.Cormac is gone. Locked away, his empire dismantled, his influence reduced to nothing but whispers in the dark. And yet, before the dust has even settled, another one steps forward. It always happens this way.A cycle. A curse.I watch from the rooftop as the meeting below unfolds. A dozen figures sit around a long table in a high-rise suite, their silhouettes blurred by tinted windows. But it’s the one at the head of the table that has my full attention.Young. Too young.Sharp suit, sharper eyes. He moves like he owns the room—because he does. The way they lean in when he speaks, the way they nod, hesitant but obedient. He’s already in control.He reminds me of someone.Me.I exhale slowly, pressing my earpiece. "Evelyn, you getting this?"Her voice crackles through. "Loud and clear. Looks like we found our new kingpin."I don’t respond right away, just watch as he steeples his fingers, listening i
CHAPTER 212
The War That Never EndsThe Oath had fallen, but the world didn’t change. Not really.Power is a living thing—it doesn’t disappear; it mutates. It slithers, molds itself into new hands, new faces, new kings and queens who claim they’ll do better. I watch from the shadows as history repeats itself, over and over, like a bad song stuck on a loop.I blend into the dimly lit alleyway, my coat pulled tight against the cold bite of the city. Rain drips from the rusted gutters, forming puddles at my feet, but I barely notice. Across the street, men shake hands under the glow of a flickering street lamp, sealing deals in the same way their predecessors did—with quiet, well-dressed ruthlessness. Different players, same game.I should walk away.I promised myself I would.But ghosts don’t rest easy, and the ones I carry are especially loud.A gust of wind blows through the alley, ruffling my hair as I step back into the shadows. My ribs still ache from my last fight, and my knuckles are a canva
