Chapter 25 — POV: Lyra
The door to the boardroom hadn't even shut before my legs finally betrayed me.
I collapsed onto the leather bench just outside, spine still rigid with fury, but something deeper—colder—gnawed at my core.
Not grief. Not regret.
A vacancy.
Like something vital had been cut from me and sealed behind glass for the world to gawk at.
"You're trembling," Kieller said, standing nearby, arms crossed, black tie hanging loose like a noose he hadn't tightened yet.
"Am I?" I stared down at my hands. "Guess that's what happens when your soul is live-streamed in high definition."
He didn't speak. Just walked over and gently sat beside me, the scent of cedar and expensive cruelty folding into the air between us.
"What are you really thinking?" he asked.
I swallowed. "That I want to rip out Gray's tongue, bronze it, and mount it in the lobby. As a warning."
He laughed. It shouldn't have sounded like comfort, but it did.
I stood. "Get the car."
"Where are we going?"
"To ruin someone properly."
To ruin someone properly.?
My heels clicked against the hotel's polished marble like gunfire. Kieller followed, his silence louder than a threat.
By the time we reached the private elevator, his phone was already in his hand."Security?"
"Enhance surveillance. I want footage of every interaction Gray has had inside this building since arrival. Check room service, calls, facial recognition scans on lobby cams. If he breathed near a device—track it."
"On it, sir."
I didn't flinch at the sir. It wasn't about control. It was war protocol. And right now, Gray had drawn first blood.
Kieller turned to me. "You sure you want to handle this personally?"
I looked up at him, eyes gleaming.
"I don't hand out wrath like party favors, Kieller. If I'm involved, it's because I intend to leave a crater."
His lips twitched. "There she is."
Fifteen minutes laterWe were in the penthouse suite. Dimmed lights. Ice bucket untouched. Silence, broken only by the hum of the city outside.
I paced. Power didn't come from shouting.It came from silence with sharp edges.
Kieller leaned against the glass wall, watching me.
"I already had my team sweep Gray's devices," he said. "He's been trying to sell that footage for days. NexaTech didn't bite. Someone else did."
I paused mid-step.
"Who?"
He hesitated. "A private bidder. The trace led to an encrypted drop server. The buyer's ID was masked, but the name on the delivery schedule?"
I turned slowly. "Say it."
He exhaled. "Project Echo."
It was like ice water down my spine.
"Still operational?" My voice dropped.
"Looks like it. And worse, they want you back in the system."
I pressed my fingers to my temples. "That footage wasn't just meant to expose me. It was bait. A trigger."
"They want to rattle you," he said.
"Then they failed."
But we both knew they hadn't.
Not entirely.
I walked to the balcony and let the air sting my face. The wind was cold, but not cruel. Not like before.
Back then, in the lab, silence had meant sedation.Now, it meant choice.
"I'm not running," I said aloud.
"I know," Kieller replied. "You're going back in."
I turned. "Not alone."
He nodded once. "Always two steps ahead of you, Lyra. My team's already traced three subsidiaries funding what's left of Project Echo. Two are tied to dummy accounts in the Caymans. The third…"
He held out a folder.
I took it. Flipped it open.
My breath caught.
NexaTech. One of their shell branches. Quiet funding. No board oversight.
"Bast**ds," I muttered.
"They didn't just invite you here to negotiate," Kieller said. "They invited you to test your stability. To see if the experiment still functions."
"And what do you think?" I asked him, voice a blade.
He met my gaze without flinching. "I think you terrify them. And that's exactly how it should be."
There was a beat of silence.
Then something shifted.
Something warm.
He stepped forward, slower now, less Kieller-the-executioner and more…Kieller-the-strangely-human.
"I've seen you collapse and still stand taller than men twice your size," he said. "I've seen you bleed, scream, and come out with cleaner hands than half of this boardroom garbage."
"And?"
"And you're still here."
I blinked, unsure whether to slap him or collapse into him.
"You always this charming after corporate bloodbaths?"
He smirked. "Only when you almost cry on leather benches."
I scoffed. "I didn't cry."
"You trembled."
"Your ego trembles when I wear heels."
He grinned. "Can't deny that."
Silence again. Softer this time.
Then I walked over and took the glass from his hand—the one he hadn't even offered—and drained it in one go.
He raised a brow. "Rough day?"
"Just warming up," I said, stepping past him.
And for the first time in weeks, as I walked back into the fire,I didn't feel like the experiment they built.
I felt like the god they failed to contain.
End of Chapter 25