Chapter 𝟒: Declassified Feelings

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Morning light filtered through reinforced steel shutters, casting stripes across Alexandra’s apartment floor.

It was the one place in the world where she didn’t have to pretend.

No masks. No aliases. No lies.

Just polished floors, custom weapons racks, encrypted comms, and a glass of untouched whiskey on the counter.

She stood near the window, watching the skyline, when a sharp knock broke her solitude.

“Door’s locked for a reason,” she said aloud.

“It’s me,” said a voice.

Of course it was.

She opened the door to find Serena Vale, high heels, high cheekbones, and high-level clearance. Her aunt swept in like a storm.

“Nice decor,” Serena said dryly, looking around. “Still no plants?”

“They die,” Alexandra muttered.

Serena settled on the couch, removing her gloves. “You’ve been sloppy, darling. Your name—well, one of your aliases—surfaced at last night’s gala. And not by accident.”

Alexandra didn’t react.

“Someone planted the Black Lineage identity. It was a message. And it wasn’t meant for the host.”

Alexandra leaned against the counter. “You think it was for me?”

“I think someone wants to wake up the dead.” Serena’s voice sharpened. “Tell me, did the name ‘Black’ mean anything to your partner?”

“He flinched.”

“Then he knows, too.”

Alexandra looked away.

Serena sighed. “When your parents arranged the legacy pact with the Riveras, they did it to secure control. But then the treaties passed. The world changed. They tried to bury it.”

“Clearly, someone didn’t bury it deep enough.”

Serena stood, her heels echoing on the hardwood. “If the Black Protocol has been activated, then someone inside the intelligence circuit wants that legacy back. Which means they’ll come for you. For both of you.”

Alexandra narrowed her eyes. “Why activate it now?”

Serena hesitated. “Because you’re of age. And because… the union triggers access to something powerful. Something even I’m not cleared to see.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Alexandra asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

Serena paused. “Because I wanted you to have a choice. Even if the world around you was built on decisions made long before you were born.”

They were quiet for a moment. Then Serena pulled a small flash drive from her coat.

“What’s that?” Alexandra asked.

“A file your mother had sealed. I only recently gained access. It’s… well, you’ll want to see it when you’re ready.”

Alexandra didn’t take it.

Instead, she said, “Did she love him? The Rivera heir?”

Serena tilted her head. “She did. Once. But love wasn’t enough to change the system.”

--

Elsewhere, Ash sat alone in a dimly lit bar designed for off-duty agents. He wasn’t drinking—just staring at the tablet screen in front of him.

On it was a message from a ghost account. No sender, no trace.

The Vale girl doesn’t know. You’re not supposed to tell her. But you’re in too deep, aren’t you? Don’t fall for her. She’s not yours.

Ash closed the screen.

Too late.

He looked up as someone took the seat beside him.

Dr. Iris Quade.

“I ran a deep trace on the sender,” she said without greeting. “Whoever they are, they bounced through nine black-market servers and a buried relay in Moldova. But that’s not the freaky part.”

Ash blinked. “There’s a freaky part?”

She nodded. “The original signal route was a dead channel. Decommissioned three years ago. Only one group still uses ghost channels like that.”

“Chimera.”

“Bingo. Whatever game you and Ice Queen are playing, it just got upgraded to death match mode.”

Ash stood, jaw set. “Then it’s time to stop playing.”

--

The next morning, a mission alert blinked on both their devices: Priority Omega. London. Posing as newlyweds. Intel suggests Chimera is targeting a vault under the Thames.

Alexandra sighed. “Great. Another honeymoon.”

Ash messaged back: Can we argue less on this one? Or at least pretend to like each other?

She replied: No promises.

--

But as she packed, she touched the locket around her neck—a simple silver one she never opened.

Inside was a name.

A name signed on a contract two decades ago.

Rivera.

And for the first time, she wondered:

What if this wasn’t just a mission anymore?

What if it was destiny?

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