Lyla’s POVTwo days had passed since Becky’s second arrest, and yet sleep refused to find me.The girls slept peacefully in their cribs. Jace kept watch with Collins, coordinating a full sweep of our home, background checks on staff, even double-tapping security lines. But I felt it in my bones—this wasn’t over.Becky’s warning rang like church bells in my head.“She’s already chosen her next target.”Who was she?I paced from one end of the room to the other, my mind clouded with who this "Architect" could be. I mean, she knew virtually everything about me, she's definitely someone closer than I thought. But who exactly is she? She stood there in an undisclosed underground facility outside the city, watching surveillance footage from a dozen screens. She was undeniably endowed, her fashion sense was top notch, her long brown hair flowed freely across her shoulders. She wore black gloves, rarely spoke, but when she did, her voice was as smooth as velvet, and as sharp as a blade cut
Lyla’s POV I experienced insomnia after Becky’s Funeral. Not because I was grieving her. I had lost every iota of love, care and respect for Becky long before she ever became my enemy. But her final letter wouldn’t leave my head.“Look deeper into Collins”.It played like a song in my mind. Every moment he helped me. Every time he’d shown up when no one else could. Every secret he shouldn’t have known. And worse—every moment I had trusted him blindly.So I started digging quietly. I wasn't so sure of who next was lurking around for information or who next would betray my trust and take my loyalty for granted again. I had to be extremely careful. The first clue was phone records. I used an old contact at the Ministry of Defense’s cybersecurity division. I gave her a burner phone, no names mentioned. Just asked her to run metadata on Collins’ calls during the week before and after the Karev Ball.What came back made my stomach drop.Multiple encrypted calls. One number repeated mor
Lyla’s POVThe tea cup clinked gently as Collins set it down on the table. He didn’t notice the slight tremble in his hands. At least not yet. “I’ll have the new guards arrive before noon,” he said, wiping his mouth casually. “Anyone you trust in particular?”I smiled gently. “I trust you to make the right call.”His pupils had started to dilate. I smiled softly. The serum was working.The military-grade compound I’d slipped into his drink wasn’t detectable in standard tox screens. It didn’t alter memory or scramble the mind. It simply turned the volume up on truth—dialed it so loud a lie became physically impossible to say.I leaned forward, calm as still water.“Collins,” I said gently, “how long have you been working with the Architect?”The pause lasted two seconds too long.“Since the fire,” he said flatly.I blinked. “The orphanage fire?”He nodded.“That was over a decade ago. You—what do you mean?”He looked me dead in the eyes. “They saved me from the wreckage. I was suppose
Lyla’s POVThree days later, I was upstairs tending to the girls, when Mrs. Maddy came to deliver an envelope to me. "Who is it from?" I asked. I don't have an idea, it was delivered by a courier dispatch rider who said nothing, it came with no return address but enclosed with a black seal. Before I could ask, he was already lost in traffic, she said quietly. Alright, thank you mum, I'll take it from here, I said dismissively. I didn’t open it immediately. My fingers hovered over the wax, my heart thudding in my ears. Something inside me knew—whatever this was, it wasn’t just a threat.It was history.Jace watched from across the room. We’d barely spoken since the truth-serum night. Trust was being rebuilt, brick by bloody brick.He nodded once. “Whatever’s in there—we face it together.”I broke the seal.Inside: a single photograph. A building, half-collapsed. A young girl in a red coat, her back to the camera."It was me." I staggered back, nearly dropping the picture.“Lyla?” J
Lyla’s POVThat night, I couldn’t sleep. The weight of the shocking revelation from Dr. Mayer pressed so hard on me. Even with Jace cuddled behind me and both our hands on my belly, a storm was still brewing in my mind.They’re not after me. They’re after what I carry.Every kick from the twins reminded me: their bloodline wasn’t just mine. It belonged to something far more dangerous. Something born in a lab, buried beneath government black sites, and now resurrected in the hands of the Architect.I slipped out of bed at 3:14 a.m.Jace stirred but didn’t wake.Downstairs, I slid open my laptop. I had one goal: Find the remaining files from Project Seraphim. If the Architect wasn't lying, then I wasn’t the only one. There were others.And maybe—just maybe—one of them survived.After four hours of digital digging and one untraceable proxy into an encrypted defense archive, I found it.Subject 03ACodename: "Gabriel"Status: Retained – Off-gridProject Role: Behavioral Prototype – Enhan
Lyla’s POVThe forest around us was silent, except for the whisper of wind brushing dead leaves against my boots.Gabriel stood just a few feet away, his pupils dilated, absorbing everything—and nothing. His face was unreadable, but I saw it: the faintest tremor in his left hand.He was fighting something. Or maybe someone.“Gabriel,” I called softly, moving closer to him, “You don’t have to be what they have made you.”His gaze flickering to the side, then back to me.“You think I've been brainwashed,” he said. “But what if this—” he put his hand to his chest, “—is freedom? What if they showed me the truth?”“They showed you control. Lies. Chains dressed as destiny.”“No. They showed me what we are, Lyla.” His voice was suddenly sharp, aching with conviction. “Not victims. Not orphans. But Architects of evolution.”He suddenly dipped his hand into his coat. My body became tense. But he only pulled out a necklace.The other half of our mother’s coin.He let it dangle between us.“Do y
Lyla's POV After the incident, life went back to normal, to its usual hustle and buzzling. But while we were relaxed and thought that the Architect's reign died with her code. That peace could be coded back into the world like a firewall. But peace is never permanent apparently when blood remembers.Deep beneath the frost-ridden city of Australia, in a facility cloaked in electromagnetic silence, a woman stood before the embryonic remnants of a war long thought ended.Seraphina, twenty-one years old. Raised in secrecy by the last loyalists of the Architect’s bloodline. Not born—but built.She was the perfect shadow. Not a clone. Not a daughter. A weapon with emotions calibrated just enough to manipulate.The lab walls shimmered with biometric maps. One showed Lyla’s DNA spiral interwoven with Jace’s—Chimera-7.“They think they’ve won,” Seraphina said coldly to the masked board seated before her. “But their children carry the seed of what’s next.”Behind her, a glass cylinder opened,
Lyla’s POVThe wind smelled different now.No more smoke from secret labs. No more burnt circuits or rusted cables threading their way through cities like veins. The Architect’s network—her programming, her algorithms, her reach—was gone.And yet… I still couldn’t sleep.Because darkness doesn’t die.It simply waits to be reborn.One year later, our estate near Lake Virelle was finally complete. Jace and I took turns walking the twins through the glass garden, the lake shimmering behind us.Bailey had taken over as Director of Public Safety, reshaping what the Karev Group once was. While she also prepared to begin medical school, it has always been her dream and her passion for saving lives was undoubtedly surreal. And Collins on the other hand, after the serum wore off—was in secure witness protection, supplying information on the Architect’s global shell companies.Everything seemed peaceful.But scars have memories.And mine still itched.It was dusk when I first saw him again.Ga
Bailey POVThe days at St. Claire University were finally coming to an end.Final exams and projects have been submitted and written respectively. And all graduation was the next call of action.I'm sure you'll emerge as the best graduating student in your department this year, Lyla teased.Oh sis, you flatter me too much.No, I don't,it's simply the truth because I have full faith and believe in you.You're not only beautiful but equally smart, daring and hard-working.Alright, Alright you win.No one can ever win you and your sweet mouth.That's why everyone loves me, Lyla teased.The day of the graduation ceremony finally came, the hall was decorated beautifully as the graduands, family, friends and even professors trouped into the hall.Bailey stood behind the thick velvet curtain of St. Clair University’s grand auditorium, her palms slightly damp despite the gentle breeze entering the hall through the open windows. The old oak walls of the hall had witnessed generations of studen
Bailey's POVAfter Thanksgiving came the Christmas season when families come together from far and near to celebrate,talk about the year and make plans for the new year ahead.And the Karev's family was not an exception,as celebration hit its peak at their mansion.After two years Jace took his wife and kids to start off life afresh far away from his parents, they visited. And the house was full of excitement, fun activities, great and tasty meals as well as reconciliation.Mrs.Karev who never liked or accepted Lyla from the onset, pleaded for her forgiveness during dinner on new years Eve.And Lyla in her meek and most compassionate self forgave her and held no grudges,besides she has always loved her despite the way she was treated in the past.Life took a new turn as everyone was now united and a bond that can never be broken was activated too.It was the beginning of the new year and school had reopened, Bailey on the other hand was thriving in her studies, she came out best each
Bailey's POVThe notebook from the attic felt weighty in Bailey’s bag as she ascended the stairs to her little dorm room, each step resounding in the still hallway. Her thoughts raced quicker than her feet, gliding over Claire’s words repeatedly: "Always remember your true identity..." Immediately she entered her room, she locked the door, closed to the curtains, then placed her bag gently on the table while she rushed to the bathroom for a warm bath.While in the shower she allowed the warm water run slowly from her hair down to her feets, while still reminiscing on Claire's last words that kept ringing in her head."Never Forget Who You Are".She remained there for a little while before coming back to her room, dressed up and wrapped her hair in a towel, wore her vanilla scent body perfume and sat with her legs crossed on the bed. The room felt a bit lighter that evening as Bailey was now beginning to let go of the past she can't change and was now willing to embrace her new pres
Bailey's POV The Memory SequenceThe morning after Thanksgiving was unusually still.The type of calm that encouraged reflection, coffee on the patio, and a gradual unfolding of matters that had lingered too long below the surface. Bailey positioned herself with crossed legs on the carpet in Lyla’s bright, sunlit study, enveloped by a messy assortment of vintage family photo books, newspaper cutouts, and memory boxes. A hot cup of tea lingered unattended next to her. Lyla had told her to make herself at home. But home—real home—was what Bailey was trying to define again.She stumbled into one of the older albums, the edges going bad with time. There were pictures of Claire, their mother, and even one or two rare photos of their father. Bailey blinked, then leaned closer. One photo caught her eye: a blurry image of Lyla holding a much younger Bailey on a beach, both their faces lit by unrestrained laughter.She didn’t remember this day. Not a bit of it.But something about it stirre
Bailey's POV The guest bathroom was quiet, too quiet. Bailey stood over the sink, clutching her phone like it might burn her skin. Her thumb hovered over the number.“K.”No last name. No picture. No call history before now.She opened the contact.Nothing but a blank number. No clues. No metadata. Just one thing: the message had come from that number moments before the call was logged.Her heart thudded. She could hear laughter outside the door—her family, the new found peace. She didn’t want to disrupt that. Not again.But the name. "Protected Asset".Why her?There was a time when she believed everything Lyla told her. That they were simply survivors of a dangerous time. That they had gotten lucky. That the world was finally safe again. But the older Bailey got, the more her instincts sharpened—and they had been whispering for months now.There were gaps in her story.Memories that felt inserted. Emotions that didn’t align. And now this strange call that she didn’t make.Outside t
The Thanksgiving HourLyla's POV The scent of cinnamon and toasted rosemary drifted through the house like a calming melody, wrapping each room in a warmth that made time appear to stretch. The living room boomed with the soft hum of old jazz records playing on a speaker Lyla refused to replace. In the backyard, the kids laughed with joy, their laughter riding the swing set into the soft golden light of late afternoon.Inside the kitchen, Lyla stood over the mashed potatoes, her sleeves rolled up and her face dripping of sweat which she wiped off occasionally with her elbow.She stirred them methodically, humming along with the music while her apron—one Claire had gifted her years ago that read Master of the House—absorbs the chaos of cooking.“Hey!” Chad called from the stove at the other side of the kitchen. “Do sweet potatoes burn faster if you stare at them?”Lyla laughed. “Yes. The potatoes can sense fear.”Bailey entered with her hair up in a high ponytail and two pies balance
Bailey's POV The rain came down in a quiet drizzle as Bailey wandered the campus garden, the fog from her breath mingling with the early morning chill. Her textbooks were still in her bag, unread. Sleep had eluded her. Not from exams or stress.But because of that dream again.The same hallway. White tile. The same phrase clung into her memory like a scar.“She was never supposed to know.”She had not told anyone yet, not even Lyla. But last night, she had stayed late in the medical lab and submitted a sample for a DNA test—one she had been carrying around in her mind for months but never had the courage to confront.She will have the results by tonight.And a feeling deep in her chest told her nothing would be the same after that.Jace paced in the hidden room beneath the clinic. It had been two days since they found Becky’s twisted letter to Bailey, and still, the questions piled higher than answers.Lyla sat across him, surrounded by old files. A folder already damaged with water
Jace POV The next morning, the sun was already hot against the windows of Karev Medical & Wellness center. Jace had barely managed three hours of sleep.Lyla made him coffee while reviewing files. Neither spoke about the trapdoor, the lily, or the voice message just yet. Not until they had more information.The bell above the door chimed.Jace looked up—and froze.An elderly man in a tailored navy coat stepped inside. He walked with a slow, deliberate limp. Silver hair, sharp eyes. Something about him screamed military or something worse.The man held out a letter. “Dr. Jace Karev?”“Yes,” Jace said carefully.“I was told you’re the only one who can help.”Jace opened the letter.It was hand-written. “This man should be dead. On record, he is. But he isn’t. Help him—and you’ll start to understand what they erased from your past.Don’t trust the files.From_A Friend.”Jace gasped. “Who gave you this?”The man looked around nervously. “She told me to come here. A woman with short dark
Bailey's POV The emergency lights flickered in the archive room, throwing Bailey and Callum into crimson shadows. The girl—A-11—stood eerily calm between the cabinets.Bailey’s breath hitched. She couldn’t look away.Same height. Same build. Same eyes.But there was something off about her… like a reflection bent by time and darkness.“You’re lying,” Bailey whispered. “I don’t have a sister.”“No,” the girl replied coolly, “you have an upgraded prototype.”A-11 stepped forward, lifting a finger and tapping the metal case with a smug smile. “Everything you need to know about me is in there. Right next to the pages that say you were supposed to be terminated before age five.”Bailey recoiled. “Terminated?”Callum moved protectively in front of her.The girl chuckled. “Relax. You’re useful now.”Gunshots echoed again in the distance.“They’re coming,” she added. “You have two minutes before this place gets turned into ash. Make a choice, Bailey. Come with me—or die like the others.”Bail