The heat from the explosion was a physical wall, pushing against our backs as the Positano villa—the site of my father's ultimate betrayal—collapsed into the sea. The orange glow reflected in the sea below, turning the Mediterranean into a pool of liquid fire.
I looked at the notebook in my hand. The ink was smeared with old blood, but the numbers were clear. $5,000,000. My life, my memories, and my mother's sanity had all been weighed on a scale and found equal to a wire transfer.
"Get in the car," Yuri said, his voice cracking. He didn't look at me; he was staring into the flames, his body swaying slightly. The adrenaline was fading, and the toll of the night was finally catching up to him.
I didn't move toward the passenger side. I walked to the driver's side, opened the door, and looked at him. "Move over. You're bleeding out, and you're driving like a ghost. I've got this."
He looked at me, a brief flash of the old, arrogant Yuri appearing before it was swallowed by exhaustion. He slid into the passenger seat without a word. I got in, shoved the SUV into gear, and roared away from the burning ruins just as the sirens of the Italian authorities began to echo up the mountain pass.
The Shift in Power
For miles, the only sound was my mother's soft, rhythmic breathing in the back seat—she had finally succumbed to the sedative's lingering weight—and the rush of wind through the shattered rear window.
"The coordinates in the back of that notebook," I said, my eyes fixed on the winding road. "They aren't just for a bank account, are they?"
"No," Yuri rasped, clutching his side. "They're for a private airfield in Albania. He has a flight chartered for midnight tomorrow. He thinks he's a widower with a fat inheritance."
"He thinks he's free," I corrected. I felt a strange, detached clarity. The "Ghost Code" wasn't just data anymore; it was a map of the man who had created me. I knew how he thought. I knew his cowardice.
"Jessy," Yuri whispered, his head leaning back against the leather. "You don't have to do this. You have the money now. I can have my people set you up in a place where no one—not the UNI, not your father—will ever find you."
"I spent my whole life being 'set up,' Yuri. By him, then by you." I gripped the steering wheel, the knuckles of my hands turning white. "I'm done being a piece on the board. If we're going to hunt a ghost, we're doing it on my terms."
The New AllianceObjectiveStatusPriorityExtractionCompleteMother is safe; Villa destroyed.RecoveryOngoingYuri's medical stability.The TargetIdentifiedMarcel (The Architect).The CodePurgedDigital traces deleted; biological data stable.
We didn't go to a hospital. Yuri's "security detail" met us at a safe house tucked into a lemon grove outside Sorrento. As they swarmed the car to take Yuri and my mother inside, I stood in the dark, the blood-stained notebook tucked into my waistband.
Yuri stopped at the door, leaning heavily on Miller. He looked back at me, the moon casting his face in sharp silver.
"You aren't a ghost anymore, Jessy," he said.
"No," I replied, the coldness in my chest finally turning into a spark. "I'm the hunter."