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Chapter 29: The Disintegration
Last Updated:
2025-01-20 18:42:08
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It felt oppressive to be in the sterile, cold living room of my adoptive family's home. I sat rigidly on the velvet couch, feeling as though the walls, lined with sterile portraits and antique furniture, were closing in on me. Charles, my adoptive father, was standing across from me, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his piercing eyes staring right through me. Evelyn, my adoptive mother, was standing next to him, wearing her usual mask of fake worry."Freda," said Charles, calmly but with a hint of menace, "this is not a request. It is a duty to the family.My knuckles were white as I held onto the couch's edge. "I’m not doing it."Evelyn sighed, as if I were a whiny kid who wouldn't do her chores. "You don't realise how serious this situation is, darling. The Harringtons have the ability to either ensure or ruin our future. You have a special chance to guarantee our family's position among them."Your family," I snapped back. "Not mine."Evelyn flinched, but Ch
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“Don’t move,” the masked figure barked, their gun trained on me. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Evelyn let out a choked gasp, clutching Charles’s arm, while Charles froze, his expression a mix of shock and calculation. My mind raced. The weight of everything—Marcel’s threats, my adoptive parents’ betrayal, and now this—pressed down on me like a vice. Yet, amidst the chaos, a strange calm settled over me. “What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. The intruder’s gaze flicked toward me, their eyes cold behind the mask. “You. You’ve become a complication, Freda. Someone very powerful wants you out of the picture.” My heart pounded, but I forced a smirk. “Is that so? And what’s the plan? Eliminate me here, in front of witnesses? That’s sloppy work for someone hired by the Harringtons.” The figure faltered, just for a second, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. Charles stepped forward, his voice sharp. “If you touch h
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The tension in the room was palpable as I sat across from Grace, the soft hum of the city outside a stark contrast to the storm raging inside my mind. She had just delivered the bombshell: Daniel Harrington, Margaret’s estranged son, had returned. “Why haven’t I heard of him before?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. Grace leaned forward, her tone measured. “Because Margaret erased him. He was exiled from the family years ago. Some say it was because of his temper; others say he got involved in things that could ruin the Harrington name. Whatever the reason, he’s back now, and he’s not happy about you.” I frowned, trying to process this new information. “And you’re telling me this because...?” “Because Daniel isn’t like Marcel,” Grace said, her gaze steady. “He’s dangerous in ways you can’t imagine. He doesn’t play games. He destroys it.” Later that night, I ended up at an upscale cocktail bar, taking a cue from Grace. The bar was softly illuminated, its luxury subt
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The atmosphere in the room felt stifling. The documents and maps laid out on the table, detailing the rescue strategy for James, appeared to be a delicate hope amid the impending storm approaching us. Every detail was important, but I still couldn't help but feel that something—or someone—was slipping away unnoticed. Williams’ voice cut through my thoughts. “We’ll split into teams. Grace, you handle surveillance. Alex and I will cover the docks. Freda, you stay here—” “No,” I interrupted, my voice firmer than I expected. “I’m coming with you. This involves all of us.” He gave me a hard look but didn’t argue. He knew better than to waste time on a debate. Before anyone could react, the door burst open, and Emma emerged, her complexion white and her hands shaking. "I need to speak with you," she stated, her voice trembling, her gaze fixed on me. “Not now,” Williams said sharply. “We’re in the middle of something critical.” “It’s about James,” Emma said, her voice rising. “And D
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The tension in the Franklin penthouse was suffocating. The aftermath of the trap at the warehouse lingered like a dark cloud over everyone. Emma had managed to get me out of Daniel’s clutches, but the guilt and betrayal in her eyes haunted me. I had no idea if her intentions were genuine or part of some larger scheme, but for now, she had bought me time. Williams paced by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his jaw tight, fists clenched. “They’ve escalated. This isn’t just family politics anymore—this is war.” “They’re not going to stop,” Alex said, his tone grim. “Daniel wants complete control, and Sophia thrives on chaos. And then there’s Margaret…” At the mention of Margaret Harrington, my chest tightened. The matriarch’s reach was everywhere, her power a constant shadow over my every move. “They think they can pressure me into submission,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “But they’re wrong. I’m not backing down.” Williams stopped pacing, his gaze locking onto mine. “Freda
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Chasing the vehicle that Daniel's team had forced me to operate, the black SUV sped down the streets, weaving past other vehicles. My heart raced with a blend of excitement and anxiety. I wasn't sure, but I wished the SUV belonged to Williams. Daniel, a predator relishing the excitement of the chase, sat across from me with a serene yet menacing expression.His voice was low and mocking as he said, "Freda, you've made quite the mess." Did you truly believe that standing with the Franklins would keep you safe? They are unable to defend themselves.Even though my heart was racing, I retorted sharply, "I don't need their protection." "I don't use tricks and deceit to get what I want like you do."Daniel leaned forward a little and grinned. "No, you depend on falsehoods. Claiming to be the innocent victim while attempting to gain control. You don't want to acknowledge how much you resemble Margaret.Even though his words hurt, I kept my fear from him. "You should be fearful of my next mo
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It was a battleground. Tension was in the air as cameras flashed quickly one after the other and reporters yelled questions. A high-stakes news conference had brought the families of Franklin and Harrington together in an attempt to "clear the air." However, this was actually a war. I sat calmly in the middle of it all, wearing a fitted white dress that made me appear in charge. Alex and Williams were on either side of me. Daniel and Marcel stood opposite us like warring generals. Sophia observed with the patience of a vulture, waiting for the right opportunity, while Margaret Harrington sat off to the side, her face inscrutable. I anticipated what would happen. The question wasn’t *if* they would attack but *how*—and if I was prepared to fight back. One of the journalists in the first row cried out, "Miss Lewis," in a harsh, questioning voice. **"According to recent rumours, your abrupt ascent in rank is a planned attempt to gain entry into the Harrington empire. Do you dispu
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Freda sat frozen as the breaking news alert flashed across the screen.DANIEL HARRINGTON FILES PETITION TO CONTEST FRANKLIN-LEWIS CHILD’S CLAIM TO FAMILY LINEAGE.The air in the room thickened with tension. Every fibre of Freda’s being screamed in outrage. She clutched her stomach protectively, her mind racing.Williams paced furiously beside her. "This is war." His voice was low, laced with controlled fury.Grace stood by the door, her expression unreadable. "We need a strategy. Fast."Freda inhaled deeply, grounding herself. "He’s not just coming for me—he’s coming for our child."Williams nodded. "This indicates he’s even more perilous than we expected." Before any other words were exchanged, Grace's phone vibrated. She looked at the screen and let out a sigh. "You should check this out." She handed the tablet to Williams. The live broadcast showed a polished news anchor staring into the camera."Sources close to the Harrington family reveal that Freda Lewis—recently discovered t
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The assurance of a new beginning and the remnants of history were highlighted in a soft golden glow as dawn broke over the vast estate. Freda situated herself at the brink of the balcony, looking out towards the horizon. Her mind was anchored by the constant noise of the waves hitting the jagged shore beneath. Weeks had gone by since the truth was uncovered to everyone. Despite being held responsible for her family's wrongdoings for several weeks, she continued to feel the weight of their decisions bearing down on her. Nevertheless, the atmosphere has shifted now. An alteration. A breath of optimism. The hush was interrupted by the gentle noise of footsteps trailing her. Williams stood there, both reassuring and authoritative. She was pulled back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her waist. He stated, "You're overthinking it." Smiling, she nestled into his embrace. "I can't prevent it." I constantly have thoughts. Nonetheless, you are right. I've been attempting to fix
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The Harrington Estate was burning.From the war room’s shattered windows, Freda could see the inferno crawling across the eastern wing, smoke billowing like a signal to every rival who had ever watched the empire. Firefighters battled the blaze, but they were late—deliberately delayed, most likely by Selene and the faction loyal to Cassian’s legacy.Freda turned from the window, her face streaked with soot and determination.“The vault is waking up,” Grace said from the console. “Whatever Cassian programmed into Protocol Eclipse—it’s already executing.”“What happens if it finishes?” Elias asked, standing beside his sister.Grace’s voice was grim. “Everything Harrington collapses. The companies, the foundations, the inheritance. Our accounts, trusts, holdings—burned to digital ash. You won’t inherit a legacy. You’ll inherit ruin.”Williams reached for Freda’s hand. “There’s still time. If we access the core before the final phase, we can override it—but only if both of you enter the b
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The room fell into absolute silence.Freda stood, stunned, unable to form words. Her gaze locked with the stranger at her door—no, not a stranger. Not anymore. His face wasn’t just familiar—it was known. Like a dream half-remembered, engraved deep into the soul.“I—” she started, but her throat tightened.The young man stepped into the room. His movements were careful, calculated, as though afraid the moment would shatter if he moved too quickly. He looked about her age—tall, lean, a quiet intensity behind gray eyes that mirrored Jonathan Harrington’s.“I’m sorry to just... show up like this,” he said quietly. “But my name is Elias Jonathan Harrington. And I think I’m your twin brother.”The name hit her like a hurricane. Elias Jonathan. Named after both their father and grandfather—an ironic twist if it weren’t so heartbreakingly true.“How did you find me?” Freda finally managed.He reached into his coat and pulled out a weathered letter. “This arrived for me on my twenty-third birt
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The cold air in the Harrington vault bit at Freda’s skin, but she didn’t flinch. Her pulse thudded in her ears as Elias Harrington’s voice echoed through the speaker embedded in the granite walls.“You found the truth,” Elias said, his tone unreadable. “And now you’ll bleed for it.”Williams placed himself in front of Freda instinctively. “You’ve already taken enough. Let her go.”Alex stepped forward, fire in his voice. “You locked away a legacy—buried it underlies. But this ends here.”A soft buzz interrupted them—the massive vault doors groaned and clicked. They weren’t locked in anymore.Freda’s heart jumped. Was this a trap?The doors creaked open slowly, revealing a dim corridor beyond. At the far end, silhouetted in the light stood Elias Harrington—elegant, tall, cloaked in his signature charcoal suit. He looked like a shadow carved out of legacy and guilt.“You’re brave to come,” Elias said, voice reverberating with age and steel. “But bravery alone doesn’t make you worthy.”F
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Freda’s breath caught in her throat as the control room plunged into darkness. The hum of machines died. The only sound was the frantic thump of her heartbeat—and the voice."We’ve only just begun."She reached for Williams instinctively, fingers finding his. His grip tightened, anchoring her. On her other side, Grace clicked a flashlight on, casting a beam through the stale air. Dust particles swirled like ghosts. The control panels flickered—faint static pulses, nothing operational.“What the hell was that?” Grace muttered, scanning the corners of the room. “This wasn’t part of Cassian’s theatrics.”Freda’s spine stiffened. “That voice... it wasn’t him. It was different. Younger. Calculated.”“System override,” a mechanical voice droned from a nearby panel. “Engaged. Level Four lockdown initiated. Harrington protocols activated.”Doors slammed shut around them.Williams cursed. “He’s locked us in.”“No.” Grace crouched by the panel, fingers flying across an auxiliary screen. “This i
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The silence in the safe room was too loud. Freda's ears rang with the noise of her heart pounding in her ribcage. The voice had only just stopped, and she remained still, staring at the one who spoke. The words appeared to have gained a life of their own, resonating in her mind. "We've located her."Williams shifted to stand next to her, his stance rigid. "Who is it? "The prototype?" There was an intensity in his voice.With her stomach in knots, Freda nodded slowly. Although she had anticipated this day, the burden of it was nearly too much for her to handle. Her sister, the one born before her, the one designed to be the ideal representation of the Harrington legacy, was here now after her entire life had been a lie. She was coming for what Freda had put so much effort into creating.However, Freda couldn't simply stand by and watch everything happen. Not when she had all she had to fight for at her fingertips. With Williams at her side, no.Grace's clear, concentrated voice cut t
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The voice from the other side of the line echoed in Freda's ear, causing her heart to race. The voice was calm and steady as it declared, "I was the initial prototype." "Yes, Freda, I do recall you." She remained perfectly still, the vial tightly gripped in her hand, as the surroundings seemed to fade away. Williams, who had just entered with a serious resolve, observed her complexion fade. "Who was that?" he demanded in a quiet voice.Freda didn't take her eyes from her phone's screen. The words were clear even if the voice was twisted, almost artificial. "Remember me? What do you mean?"Without hesitation, the voice on the other end responded. "I recall every detail. Freda, you and I are not that different. We have the same foundation, the same blood, and, regrettably, the same curse."Freda's fingers dug into the smooth phone as her hold tightened. "What are you discussing? Who are you?"The speaker went on, "I was born first, but you're the heir." The first test was me. The lea
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The scream echoed down the marble corridors of the Harrington estate.By the time Freda, Williams, and Alex arrived, security had sealed the hallway. Selene’s door was flung open. Her bodyguard was unconscious. And inside—Selene stood frozen, pale and trembling, her silk robe stained with blood.But it wasn’t hers.A man lay sprawled at her feet, a bullet lodged in his chest, the syringe he’d brought rolling under the dresser.Alex knelt beside him. “Dead,” he confirmed. “A clean shot. Straight through the heart.”“Who fired?” Williams demanded, scanning the room.“I did.” Selene’s voice was hollow. “He was already halfway across the room before I woke. If I’d been a second slower…”She didn’t finish.Freda stepped forward, gripping Selene’s trembling shoulders. “Who was he?”Selene stared at the body. “His name was Darien. He trained with me under Cassian’s program years ago. We were children then. I thought he was dead.”Freda turned to Williams. “That means Cassian’s activated mor
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For a moment, Freda couldn’t breathe.Jonathan Harrington—her father, the man she believed had died before she was old enough to remember—stood in the corridor, alive and real. His once-proud frame had thinned, his eyes bloodshot with years of torment, but the commanding presence remained.“Dad…” she whispered.Jonathan didn’t smile. He didn’t reach for her. Instead, he looked over her shoulder, where Williams, Alex, and Grace hovered just behind.“We can’t talk here,” Jonathan said, his voice low, urgent. “There are eyes everywhere.”Freda’s heart pounded, caught between disbelief and instinctive trust. She stepped forward.“Where have you been? Why—why now? And what do you mean Cassian’s not dead?”Jonathan’s gaze hardened.“Because he never died in that fire. It was staged.”Freda sat across from her father in a cold, concrete-walled room beneath one of the original Harrington estates—a place so off-grid it didn’t exist in any legal registry.Williams stood guard at the door, while
