2025-02-21 13:00:56The moment Riley disappeared into the night, I forced my mind into lockdown.
No distractions. No hesitation.Just survival.The Oath was closing in, and I knew they wouldn’t stop at foot soldiers. They wanted me erased. And now, James—**someone I thought was dead—**was standing in front of me, gun raised."You’re dead," I said, gripping my own weapon tighter.James smirked. "Not quite. But you might be soon."I didn’t wait for him to pull the trigger.Move.I dove sideways as his first shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore into the asphalt where my head had been a second ago. I hit the ground rolling and fired twice—but he was already gone.Melted into the shadows.Typical James—fast, precise, always one step ahead.I stayed low, scanning for movement.Where are you?A faint scuff of a boot—behind me.I twisted—just in time to block the knife swinging
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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 17
The engine roared beneath me as I tore through the city streets, headlights slicing through the dark. Riley had gone north—I was heading south.We needed distance. And a plan.I gritted my teeth, my pulse hammering. The Oath wasn’t going to let us walk away from this. They’d keep coming.Unless I stopped them first.My earpiece crackled. "Nathan, I made it to the fallback point," Riley’s voice came, tense but steady."Good. Stay put. I’m going to buy you time.""You mean you’re going to do something reckless.""Same thing."Silence. Then, "Just don’t get yourself killed."No promises.I cut the lights on the SUV and veered off the main road, tires skidding across cracked asphalt. The industrial district—perfect. Empty buildings. Limited exits. A damn good place for an ambush.I needed them to follow.I reached under my jacket, pulled out my burner phone, and sent a single text
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 18
The motel room smelled like stale coffee and bad decisions. Riley sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop balanced on her knees, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the screen illuminated her face—sharp, focused, determined.I stood by the window, watching the empty parking lot, gun resting on the nightstand beside me. My ribs ached from earlier, but pain was the least of my concerns.We weren’t safe.Not yet."Tell me you have something," I muttered, turning to her.Riley didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted across the screen, her brow furrowing deeper with each passing second.Then she whispered, "No. No way."Something about her tone made my stomach tighten. "What is it?"She exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead before looking up at me. Her expression was unreadable—shock, anger, maybe even fear."Nathan… you need to sit down."I didn’t. I couldn’t."Talk."
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 19
Rain hammered against the cracked windshield as I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles white. Riley sat in the passenger seat, her laptop open, fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the screen flickered across her face, but I barely saw it.All I saw was the past.Julian.A name that burned like acid in my throat."You’re spiraling," Riley muttered, her voice tight.I wasn’t.I was drowning.Julian wasn’t just another ghost in the dark. He was once my brother, not by blood but by bond. We bled together, fought together, saved each other too many times to count. And now, he was the one pulling the strings. The Oath wasn’t hunting me because I was a loose end.They were hunting me because Julian ordered it."You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?" Riley asked.I exhaled slowly, staring at the road ahead. The wipers dragged across the windshield, smearing water
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 20
Rain slicked the pavement beneath my boots as I stalked toward the abandoned warehouse, my pulse a steady drumbeat in my ears. Riley was three steps behind me, silent, her presence a shadow at my back.I knew this was suicide.Breaking into The Oath’s headquarters was one thing. Confronting Julian inside it? That was a death wish wrapped in arrogance.But there was no other way.The questions burned too deep. This wasn’t just about what Julian did. It was about what I did.I had spent years running from my past. Now, I was about to rip it open like an old wound.Riley’s voice was quiet but sharp. “This is insane.”“I know.”“You’re walking into the lion’s den.”“I know.”She exhaled hard, then grabbed my arm. “Then tell me why.”I turned to face her, and for a moment, I saw something in her eyes—fear. Not for herself. For me.Because she knew me well enough to understand one t
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 21
Echoes of the PastThe low hum of Riley’s laptop filled the dimly lit room, the blue glow casting restless shadows along the walls. She was in full hacker mode—head down, fingers a blur across the keyboard, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she cut through layer after layer of encryption.I paced behind her, restless. My head throbbed like a live wire, a pulsing ache just behind my eyes.“Come on, come on…” Riley muttered.I pressed my fingers against my temple, exhaling sharply. “How much longer?”She huffed, her voice tight with concentration. “Do you want it fast, or do you want it done right?”The air between us crackled with impatience. I raked a hand through my hair and glanced at the screen. Strings of code unraveled in real time, revealing classified mission logs. My name was all over them. Too many times.Then—something shifted.The pain in my head sharpened, slicing through my skull like a hot blade. My vision blurred.And suddenly, I wasn’t in the room anymore.---
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 22
Ghost in The Code The cursor blinks at me, waiting. Taunting. My fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant, knowing that once I start, there’s no turning back. The files in front of me—heavily redacted, barely readable—are a graveyard of secrets. Each line of text feels like a headstone, with names and truths buried under black ink meant to keep the past silent.But ghosts don’t stay buried forever.Riley’s voice cuts through the silence. “This doesn’t make sense.” Her brows pull together, lips pressed tight. That look—I know it well. Frustration. “Why would they go to this much trouble to redact everything unless they were hiding something?”I don’t answer. Not because I don’t have thoughts—oh, I have plenty—but none of them are comforting.I close my eyes for just a second. The memory rushes in, unwanted.Julian. Blood on his lips. Breaths too fast, too shallow. His fingers gripping my sleeve like holding on to me could someho
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 23
Unraveling the WebThe timestamp is the only uncorrupted piece of data in the entire file. One marker in an ocean of static, a whisper in the storm.Riley leans back in her chair, rubbing her temples. “This is all we’ve got,” she mutters. “One goddamn timestamp.”I study the numbers on the screen. It’s not much, but it’s enough.“It’s a location,” I say, voice steady despite the unease threading through my gut.Her head snaps toward me. “How do you know?”Because it has to be. Because nothing in this mess is random. Because if I let myself believe this is just a coincidence, then I have to accept that Elias is dead, Julian is dead, and I am completely alone in the middle of a war I don’t understand.I refuse.I point to the string of numbers. “Look at the pattern—it matches old military timestamps. Cross-reference it with known decommissioned sites.”Riley hesitates, then gets to work. The keyboard clic
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 24
The Forgotten MissionThe footage is old and corrupted by time and interference. The colors bleed at the edges and the audio crackles like a dying transmission. But the figures in the video are unmistakable.Julian and me.Riley and I sit in silence, watching the playback. The timestamp confirms it—this is from the night he disappeared. My heart pounds against my ribs as I take in the details.We’re moving through a dimly lit corridor, our bodies low, weapons drawn. The walls are cold metal, industrial, a facility long abandoned but still humming with something unseen.I look strong. Confident. But Julian... he keeps glancing over his shoulder, uneasy. He knows something.Then, the moment that matters.In my hands, I see it. A small metallic case. A data drive.Julian gestures toward it, saying something, but the audio is garbled, reduced to static and fractured syllables. His lips move, his eyes hard, urgent—he
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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
