Athens, Greece
Alexandros Drakos was halfway through a board meeting when his instincts warned him.
The numbers on the screen were too perfect.
"Stop," he said suddenly. The room went silent.
"Who approved the offshore transfer to Aegis Medical Holdings?" he asked, eyes fixed on the finance director.
The man swallowed. "It was signed under your father's medical proxy, sir. All documents are legal."
Alexandros stood. "Freeze every transaction connected to that company. Now."
As he left the room, his phone vibrated. An unknown number. International.
He ignored it.
Two hours later, he was in his armored convoy, moving through Syntagma Square.
That was when the attack came.
The lead vehicle exploded.
Fire and metal tore through the air. The shockwave slammed into Alexandros's car, throwing him sideways. His driver shouted as gunfire erupted from both sides of the street.
"Reverse! Reverse!" Alexandros ordered.
The car spun as bullets shattered the windows. Alexandros grabbed the door handle, kicked it open, and stepped out into chaos.
His bodyguards reacted instantly.
One went down. Another dragged a civilian to safety. Alexandros drew his weapon and fired, controlled, and precise. One attacker fell, then another. Within minutes, it was over.
The attackers fled, leaving smoke, blood, and shattered glass behind.
Alexandros stood in the street, untouched, eyes cold. This wasn't a warning. This was a declaration of war.
Zurich, Switzerland
Seraphina Cross worked with her sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back, eyes fixed on the data in front of her.
Nikolaos Drakos's illness was not random.
She saw it clearly now.
Certain drugs had been administered in low doses over years, weakening his immune system while hiding behind "advanced treatment." Whoever managed his care had slowly destroyed him from the inside.
"This is criminal," she whispered.
She ran test after test, building a counter-compound. It was dangerous, untested, and unstable but it was the only chance he had.
Her phone rang… Alexandros.
She watched it vibrate.
Then she turned it face-down and kept working.
Athens, Greece
That night, Alexandros sat alone in his private office. His security chief stood across from him.
"Professional team," the man reported. "Military training. No fingerprints."
"And the lab?" Alexandros asked.
"Confirmed," the chief said. "Illegal research facility. Children used as test subjects. We're tracking the location."
Alexandros closed his eyes for one second.
Children. His jaw tightened. "Prepare a strike team," he said. "No witnesses. No survivors."
"Yes, boss."
After the man left, Alexandros stared at his phone.
No message from Seraphina.
For the first time, doubt crept in.
Not about her loyalty. About her safety.
Zurich, Switzerland
Seraphina injected the compound into the test culture. She waited.
The cells stopped deteriorating.
Then slowly they began to heal.
Her breath caught. "It works," she whispered.
Not perfectly. Not safely. But enough.
She leaned against the lab bench, exhaustion flooding her body.
She had just done something that could save a life or cost her everything.
And she still hadn't told her husband and for the first time since the wedding, she allowed herself one thought she had been avoiding:
What if he never forgives me for hiding this?
She straightened.
That was a problem for later.
First, she had to keep Nikolaos Drakos alive.
And survive long enough to deliver the cure.
Across Europe, two wars were unfolding at the same time:
One fought with bullets and blood.
The other with science and silence.
Both tied to the same enemy.
And both pulling Alexandros and Seraphina closer to a truth neither of them was ready to face.