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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 54
The Puppet MasterJulian’s words landed like a blade slicing through my gut. The Oath’s top assassin. Me.I staggered back, my breath shallow, my pulse pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. No. It couldn’t be.“I told you, Nathan. The truth would break you.” Julian’s voice was eerily calm, a contrast to the storm raging inside me. “You were their finest weapon. Precise. Unstoppable. And when they realized you were hesitating—when they knew you cared for Evelyn—they took that choice away.”I wanted to deny it, to rip apart his words before they could take root, but something dark and terrible clawed its way into my mind. Flickers of memory. A cold, sterile room. Restraints biting into my wrists. A voice, flat and emotionless. Obey.The whisper coiled around me like a snake. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.“They reprogrammed you, Nathan,” Julian continued, watching me like a scientist studying a volatile experiment. “They forced you to complete the mission.
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 55
No More LiesJulian barely had time to smirk before my fist crashed into his jaw. The impact sent a satisfying crack through the air, but he only staggered back a step, blood trickling from his lip.“That’s more like it,” he murmured, wiping the red away with the back of his hand. “Show me who you really are, Nathan.”A growl tore from my throat as I lunged again, my body moving on instinct. I swung hard, but he ducked, catching my wrist and twisting it sharply. Pain flared up my arm, but I gritted my teeth and drove my knee into his ribs.He let go with a grunt, but before I could press my advantage, his elbow slammed into my side, knocking the breath from my lungs.Memories flickered through my mind like a broken reel.Evelyn laughing, sunlight in her hair.Evelyn’s eyes, wide with horror.My hands—stained red.I roared, shoving the memories aside and focusing on the man in front of me. Julian was fast, calculated, and worst of all, he knew me. Every move I made, he countered like h
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 56
The Final TriggerJulian coughs, a wet, gurgling sound, as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. His body slumps against the cold brick wall, the dim alleyway barely illuminating the mess I’ve left him in. His breaths are ragged, shallow, but his grin—his damn grin—stays in place. Even bleeding out, he looks at me like he holds the final card in a game I thought I had already won.“You think… killing me… will change anything?” He wheezes, his fingers twitching at his side. “You think it’ll bring her back?”The knife in my grip trembles. His words coil around me like a vice, squeezing, pressing against a wound that has never quite healed.“You talk too much.” My voice is ice. Detached. Controlled. But my hands say otherwise. They want to finish the job, to silence him, to finally put an end to the years of bloodshed, deceit, and the pain he's caused.Julian chuckles, a twisted, bitter sound. “That’s where you’re wrong, Nathan. I haven’t talked enough.” His eyes flicker with some
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 57
A New MissionJulian lay on the cold concrete, his breath ragged, his bruised face twisted in a mixture of pain and satisfaction. My grip on the gun tightened, my finger hovering over the trigger. I could end it right here. One shot. One less problem.But his eyes, sharp despite the swelling, gleamed with something far more dangerous than fear—certainty."Killing me won’t bring her back," he rasped, blood coating his lips. "But if you go after her… The Oath will never stop hunting you."His words slid under my skin like a blade. My pulse pounded in my ears, the weight of my past, my failures, and my rage clashing against the one truth I couldn’t ignore.I had a daughter.She was out there. Alive.And every second wasted brought her closer to slipping beyond my reach.My breath came out slow and controlled as I lowered my gun. Not because I forgave Julian. Not because I didn’t want to pull the trigger. But because right now, vengeance meant nothing if it kept me from finding her."You
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 58
Breaking ChainsThe scent of damp concrete and burnt metal filled my lungs as Riley and I moved through the dimly lit corridors. The Oath facility was buried beneath a nondescript warehouse, hidden from the world like the secrets it kept. My pulse hammered in my throat, every step calculated, every breath measured.Riley was a shadow beside me, her presence steady. She scanned the hall ahead, her sharp green eyes flickering in the low light. “Security’s light,” she murmured. “Too light.”She was right. This was a facility belonging to the Oath—the organization that had taken everything from me. The same organization I’d spent years tearing apart piece by piece. And yet, we had waltzed in with minimal resistance.Something wasn’t right.We reached the archive room, a reinforced steel door standing between us and whatever they were hiding. I crouched by the keypad, my fingers flying over the small screen as I worked through the encryption. Riley kept watch, her pistol raised, finger hov
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 59
The ReckoningThe night was heavy with the weight of what was coming.I stood at the edge of the abandoned airstrip, watching as the Resistance forces gathered, the cold wind cutting through my jacket. Weapons were checked, plans were whispered, and the air pulsed with the kind of tension that only comes before war.Riley was beside me, loading her rifle with a steady hand, her jaw set in grim determination. “We won’t get another shot at this, Nathan.”I exhaled slowly, my hands tightening into fists. “We won’t need one.”Because this wasn’t just another mission. This was the endgame.For years, the Oath had operated in the shadows, pulling strings, erasing lives, rewriting histories. They had taken my daughter and turned her into something unrecognizable. Tonight, that ended.A sharp whistle cut through the night. Julian’s voice followed, laced with amusement. “Still alive, Nathan? I have to admit, I’m impressed.”I turned, my muscles coiled, my fingers twitching toward my gun. Julia
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 60
The Ultimate BetrayalThe gunshot cracked through the air.I barely had time to move before Riley tackled me, both of us hitting the ground hard. The bullet buried itself in the metal panel behind us, sending a shower of sparks into the room.Emily had fired at me.My daughter.My chest tightened, but there was no time to process it. I rolled to my feet, my eyes locking onto her as she took a calculated step forward, gun still raised, her face an unreadable mask."Emily," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "You don't want to do this."Her head tilted as if studying me as if trying to place the name I had just spoken. But there was nothing in her expression—no flicker of recognition, no hesitation, just cold, ruthless focus.Behind her, Julian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold like a man who had already won. "She doesn’t know you, Nathan," he said, his voice almost mocking. "She thinks you're the enemy."The words felt like a blade to my gut.Emily’
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 61
The Neuro-HackThe air in the underground lab was thick with the scent of burning circuits and stale electricity.I kept my gun raised as Riley and I moved through the narrow corridor, the dim blue lights overhead flickering. The walls were lined with servers, humming like an angry swarm. Somewhere in this maze of forgotten tech and discarded projects was the one man who could help me—if we didn’t get killed first.Riley wiped the sweat from her forehead, her breathing sharp. Her wound from the last fight hadn’t fully healed, but she refused to slow down. That was Riley. Stubborn as hell."You sure this is the place?" she asked, her voice low."If it isn’t, we’re about to piss off the wrong people," I muttered.She smirked. "Wouldn’t be the first time."We reached a rusted metal door, the words NO ENTRY barely visible under layers of dust. Riley cracked her knuckles, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, palm-sized explosive."Subtle," I said dryly.She arched a brow. "
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
