The city roared beneath them, oblivious to the storm brewing above.
Ethan and Charlotte stood on the balcony of her apartment, side by side in silence, their bodies close but hearts guarded. The night wind swept through her hair, and the scent of her perfume—dark jasmine and danger—wrapped around him like a memory.
"Tell me the truth," she said, finally.
He turned. "About what?"
"About Obsidian Corp. About what your father really did."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I only know what the files showed. Offshore accounts. Shell companies. Deals made in countries with no names. But this… This isn't just about money. It's something else."
Charlotte's eyes were fierce. "My mother says our fathers were planning to merge more than companies. They were creating something global. Underground. Illegal. And we're the legacy they left behind."
He looked at her. "You believe her?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore," she whispered.
He stepped closer, his voice low, intimate. "Then believe in me."
She laughed bitterly. "You say that now. But what happens when you learn something you can't forgive?"
"I already have," he said. "And I'm still here."
Charlotte froze, the words sinking into her like fire through ice.
She wanted to pull away, but instead… she stepped forward.
Their lips met again—but this time, it wasn't calculated. It wasn't part of a mission. It was raw, consuming, and dangerous.
His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him as she tangled her fingers in his hair. The taste of him was like sin and salvation all at once.
"I shouldn't want you," she breathed between kisses.
"Then don't," he murmured against her skin.
"But I do," she said.
He picked her up in one smooth motion, her legs wrapping around him instinctively. They crashed into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.
Clothes fell like secrets.
The bed creaked under the weight of betrayal, lust, and something dangerously close to love.
Her body trembled beneath his touch—not in fear, but in anticipation. She had surrendered to him before, but this was different. This was two broken people trying to make sense of fire.
They moved as if guided by something more than desire—as if the universe had spun them together with cruel precision.
When it was over, they lay in silence, their breathing slow, tangled in each other's heat and confusion.
"Promise me," she said softly.
"What?"
"That if we have to destroy this world… we do it together."
He looked at her. And for once, there was no mask.
"I promise."
Meanwhile...
Julian stood in the shadows of an underground garage, a phone to his ear.
"He took the bait," he said. "Charlotte too."
The voice on the other end crackled. "Good. Then it begins."
Julian turned as a woman approached from the far end of the garage. She wore leather, sunglasses, and the kind of attitude that got people killed.
"Speak of the devil," he muttered.
"Miss me, baby brother?" she asked with a wink.
"Eloise," he said, smirking. "Still playing with knives?"
She pulled one from her boot and spun it lazily between her fingers. "Always."
Eloise Lu—third sibling. Disavowed. Unmentioned. Forgotten.
Until now.
"You're late," Julian said.
She shrugged. "I had to kill a man. And flirt with his son. In that order."
He chuckled. "You're going to love what we're doing here."
Eloise's smile was sharp. "I already do."
Back at Charlotte's apartment...
Ethan sat at the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. Vulnerable. Peaceful. The opposite of what the world thought she was.
He reached for his phone and opened the file Julian had given him earlier.
Inside, a name caught his eye.
"Vivian Moreau-Lu."
His blood ran cold.
Moreau-Lu?
His mother's name was Lina Moreau.
But she died when he was fifteen… didn't she?
He scanned deeper—flight records, DNA logs, confidential letters.
And then it hit him.
Charlotte's mother, Vivian... wasn't just her mother.
She was his aunt.
They were connected by more than lust. More than betrayal.
They were blood.
But not in the way he thought.
Suddenly, Charlotte stirred. "What's wrong?"
He hid the screen. "Nothing. Just thinking."
She watched him for a moment, suspicion clouding her features—but she didn't press.
Instead, she sat up, draping the sheet over herself.
"We have to decide what we're doing," she said. "If Julian is building something… and our mothers are hiding something… we need to hit first."
He nodded slowly, still haunted by what he'd just read.
"I agree," he said. "We attack first."
Charlotte leaned over and kissed him again, softly. "Then let's play dirty."
He forced a smile. "My favorite kind of game."
But inside, his world was breaking.
The queen he wanted to protect…
Might be carrying a bloodline he didn't fully understand.
And someone—maybe even Charlotte herself—was lying.
Far away, in a dimly lit library, an elderly man in a wheelchair stared at a photo of Ethan, Julian, and Eloise.
Behind him, shelves were lined with files marked Lu, Obsidian, Moreau, and Project Phoenix.
A nurse entered. "Time for your medicine, Mr. Lu."
The man didn't respond. Just looked at Ethan's photo with watery eyes.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
"Forgive all of us."