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SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 78
The EscapeThe stench of gunpowder clung to the air, thick and suffocating. My lungs burned as I sucked in a ragged breath, my pulse thundering like war drums in my ears. Riley was at my side, her face streaked with sweat and grime, her chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths.“Keep moving,” I urged, gripping her wrist as we darted down the dimly lit alley. Our boots splashed through puddles, each step echoing against the towering buildings pressing in on us. The city streets were alive with distant sirens, but they wouldn’t get here in time.Not before The Oath did.A gunshot cracked behind us, the bullet ricocheting off the metal dumpster to my left. I shoved Riley ahead just as a second shot whizzed past, so close I could feel the heat as it skimmed my sleeve.Riley twisted around, raising her pistol. “They’re closing in.”“No time to fight, we need to—” I didn’t get to finish.A black SUV screeched into the alley’s entrance, blocking our escape. The tinted windows glare
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 79
The Final PlanThe weight of the truth settled in my chest like an anchor, dragging me down into a darkness I couldn’t escape. The Oath wasn’t just controlling governments. They weren’t just puppeteers pulling strings from the shadows.They were the storm itself.They created the chaos. Wars, economic collapses, pandemics—none of them were random. They were manufactured, carefully orchestrated disasters meant to keep the world in a perpetual state of fear. And fear? That was their currency. Their power.I clenched my fists, my pulse a rapid, angry drum in my ears.Destroying them wouldn’t just be about exposing corruption or dismantling an organization. It would change everything. It would mean unraveling the very fabric of what people believed was reality.Was the world even ready for that?“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Gabriel muttered from across the dimly lit room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his ever-present smirk absent for once. “And knowing you, I’m guessi
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 80
No Turning BackThe night stretched around us, heavy with unspoken tension. The air was thick, almost suffocating, as we gathered in the abandoned safe house just outside the city. The walls were cracked, the floors creaking beneath our weight, but none of us cared. We had bigger things to worry about.Riley stood near the flickering lantern on the table, arms crossed, her sharp eyes flicking between me and the others. “Are you sure this is the right move?”I didn’t hesitate. “It’s the only move.”Gabriel let out a low whistle from his spot near the window, peering out into the darkness. “Damn. No hesitation, no second thoughts. You really are a reckless bastard.”I shot him a look. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”He smirked. “Someone’s gotta keep you from getting yourself killed.”Eloise wasn’t smiling. She sat on the edge of the table, arms wrapped around herself, her face unreadable. “This isn’t like anything we’ve done before,” she said quietly. “We’re not just taking down a corr
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 81
The InfiltrationThe hum of security drones echoed faintly in the dimly lit corridor. My pulse thundered in my ears as I pressed my back against the cold concrete wall, gripping the stolen keycard so tightly it bit into my palm. Riley crouched beside me, her breath controlled but her fingers tense on the silencer attached to her pistol."Two guards at the entrance," she whispered, eyes darting between the security feeds on the tablet. "Another one on rotation every three minutes. We have a thirty-second window."I nodded, inhaling slowly. "Then we move fast."Adrenaline sharpened my senses. The air smelled of steel, antiseptic, and something else—something darker, like burnt plastic and decay. I pushed aside the sickening thought and focused.We slipped through the shadows, keeping low. My muscles coiled as we reached the final corner. The guards stood ahead, their rifles slung over their shoulders, unaware of the storm creeping toward them.I met Riley’s gaze. Silent understanding.T
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 82
Julian’s Last OfferThe room felt suffocating, thick with the scent of old leather and expensive cologne. The city lights flickered through the glass windows behind Julian, casting long, distorted shadows across his marble desk. His fingers drummed rhythmically against the arm of his chair, slow, deliberate. A predator waiting for its prey to slip.I refused to be that prey."You think this is about power?" Julian’s voice was smooth, almost amused. "It’s about survival. We control the world because if we don’t, someone else will. And trust me, Nathan, they won’t be as merciful as I’ve been with you."I leaned forward, resting my hands on the polished surface between us. My reflection stared back at me—jaw clenched, eyes dark with the weight of everything I had lost. Everything I was about to lose."Mercy?" I repeated, a hollow laugh escaping before I could stop it. "You call this mercy?"Julian sighed, as if I were a child refusing to understand a simple truth. "Yes. I let you live wh
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 83
The War BeginsThe night air crackled with tension, thick with the scent of gunpowder and burning steel. Explosions rattled the sky, sending shockwaves through my bones as I advanced through the wreckage. The Resistance had finally brought the war to The Oath’s doorstep.I moved like a shadow through the chaos, my heartbeat steady despite the firestorm around me. Riley’s forces stormed the front, their battle cries tearing through the night, but I had only one target—Julian. My blade, my burden. The man who had stolen my past, twisted my future, and left nothing but rage in his wake.Gunfire erupted ahead. A Resistance fighter collapsed beside me, his body jerking violently before he stilled. His eyes—blank, empty—stared up at the smoke-filled sky. I clenched my jaw and kept moving. There was no time to mourn. Not yet.A voice crackled in my earpiece. “Nathan, status?” Riley.“Close,” I muttered, pressing my back against the charred remains of an armored truck. “Pushing through the we
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 84
The Final ConfrontationThe air was thick with the scent of burning metal and dust. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as I stood across from Julian, the man who had created me, shaped me, and ultimately betrayed me. His dark eyes, once filled with calculated intellect, now gleamed with something else—something unhinged."You were my best creation, Nathan." His voice slithered through the chaos like a serpent, wrapping around my mind, squeezing.I clenched my fists. "I was never yours."Julian tilted his head, amused. "Oh, but you were. Every calculated move, every decision you thought was your own—it was all me." He stepped forward, the dim emergency lights casting jagged shadows across his face. "And now, you stand here, thinking you can end me? How poetic."My pulse pounded in my ears. Every muscle in my body screamed for action, but I held still, calculating. The ruined facility around us groaned under its own weight, the structural damage from our fight taking its toll. Sparks
SHADOWS OF THE OAT CHAPTER 85
The Last StandThe world around me burned. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of scorched metal and blood clinging to my skin. Fires raged through the wreckage, casting flickering shadows over the crumbling remains of the Oath’s stronghold. The sound of distant gunfire had faded, replaced by the groans of twisted steel and the slow, inevitable collapse of a once-mighty empire.And yet, in the center of it all, Julian stood.His sharp suit was in ruins, torn and stained with blood—some of it his, some of it not. His once-imposing presence was diminished, but his eyes, cold and calculating, remained the same. Even now, with everything he built turning to dust, he refused to surrender.“You look tired, Nathan.”I rolled my shoulders, ignoring the burning pain that radiated through my body. "You look dead."Julian chuckled, a humorless, rasping sound. "Not yet."Then he moved.Faster than I expected, despite his injuries. His fist came at me, a blur of motion. I blocked, but the forc
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
