CHAPTER 3: Runaway Empire
The impact was deafening. The passenger side doors of the armored SUV caved in with a sickening crunch of metal. The vehicle spun twice on the wet asphalt, the tires screaming in protest, before slamming violently against the concrete barrier overlooking the churning, dark waters of the East River.
"Hold on!" Edward roared, wrestling with the steering wheel as the airbags deployed with a loud bang, filling the cabin with white dust and the smell of gunpowder.
Through the haze, Edward saw the black SUV that had rammed them. It had backed up and was positioning itself for another strike.
"Julian! Cover the girls!" Edward yelled, shifting the damaged vehicle into reverse.
Julian, coughing through the dust, threw his body over Emily and Sophie in the back seat. "I've got them! Move, Edward! Move!"
Edward slammed his foot on the gas. Despite the heavy damage, the custom-tuned V8 engine roared to life. He rammed the SUV forward, scraping against the concrete barrier, and tore down the entrance ramp of the FDR Drive, weaving dangerously between terrified civilian cars.
Behind them, two more black SUVs joined the chase, their high beams flashing aggressively.
"They're not trying to arrest us," Julian yelled over the wind rushing through the shattered windows. "They're trying to drown us!"
"They want the girls," Edward said, his eyes locked on the road ahead. "If they wanted me dead, they would have used a high-caliber sniper or a magnetic bomb. They need the twins alive."
"Why?"
"Because of what Clara wrote," Edward muttered, his mind putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "You are not the only one."
He took a sharp, drifting turn off the highway, heading into the industrial heart of Long Island City. The streets here were quieter, lined with old warehouses and active construction sites.
Edward drove the battered SUV straight through the chain-link fence of an abandoned shipyard. He drove deep into the maze of rusted shipping containers, finally killing the lights and the engine beneath a collapsed metal awning.
Silence fell over the car, broken only by the ticking of the cooling engine and the sound of heavy rain starting to fall on the tin roof above.
In the back seat, the twins were incredibly quiet. They weren't crying. That was what terrified Edward the most—they were too used to danger. They had been taught how to hide, how to be silent, how to survive.
Edward climbed into the back seat. He looked at Emily and Sophie.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice steady.
Both girls shook their heads. Sophie reached out and touched Edward’s bruised forehead. "You're bleeding, Daddy."
Edward wiped the trickle of blood away with the back of his hand. "I'm fine. We need to walk. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Emily said, her blue eyes shining with a fierce determination that made her look older than her five years. "Mommy said we have to be brave like you."
Edward felt a pang of guilt so sharp it physical hurt. Like me? He had abandoned Clara. He had chosen his father's cold, heartless empire over the only woman who had ever truly loved him. And she had raised these beautiful, brave girls to believe he was a hero.
"Julian," Edward said, turning to his friend. "We need to access the micro-SD card. Do you have a secure reader?"
Julian pulled a ruggedized, military-grade laptop from a hidden compartment under the passenger seat. He slotted the micro-SD card into a secure adapter and plugged it in.
The screen flickered to life, executing a series of complex decryption protocols Clara had somehow programmed.
"Clara wasn't just an art curator, was she?" Julian muttered in awe as lines of secure military code scrolled down the screen.
"She was a systems analyst for the defense department before we met," Edward said quietly. "She gave it up to protect me from my father’s enemies. Or so I thought."
A video file appeared on the screen. Julian clicked play.
Clara’s face filled the monitor. She looked tired, with dark circles under her green eyes, but her gaze was steady and fierce. She was sitting in a dimly lit room, the sound of traffic in the background.
"Edward," she began, her voice cracking slightly. "If you are watching this, it means they found me, and Emily and Sophie have found you. I'm sorry I kept them a secret, but I had to.
When I left you five years ago, it wasn't because I didn't love you. It was because your father, Arthur, showed me a medical report. He showed me proof that Dr. Vance had successfully created a second line of heirs using your frozen samples—but not with me.
Edward, your father cloned your genetic material. There is another child. A boy. He was raised in secret by Victor Vance to be the perfect, controllable puppet for the Haynes Empire.
They call him Project Gemini.
If you die, and I die, Victor will present this boy to the world as your biological son. He will inherit everything, and Ares Holdings will control the world's most powerful private intelligence network. Emily and Sophie are the only threats to their plan because they carry your natural, unmodified DNA. They are the true heirs.
You have to find the boy, Edward. His name is Leo. He's being kept at—"
Suddenly, the video cut to static. A loud crashing sound echoed through the audio, followed by Clara’s terrified scream.
"No! Get away from them—"
The video ended.
The silence in the ruined SUV was deafening.
"A clone..." Julian whispered, staring at the blank screen. "My father didn't just steal your samples for IVF. He participated in a human cloning project."
Edward didn't speak. His hands were clenched into fists so tight his fingernails drew blood from his palms. His entire life—his achievements, his sterile isolation, his sacrifice—had been a carefully orchestrated lie. He was just a genetic template for a corporate monster.
"Daddy?" Sophie whispered, holding the golden locket out to him again. "Mommy said the locket has a song. She sang it to us every night."
Edward took the locket and looked closely at the inner rim. Engraved in tiny, microscopic letters was a line of sheet music and a set of coordinates.
Edward recognized the coordinates instantly.
"It's not a subway terminal," Edward said, his voice cold as ice. "It's the old Haynes family vault beneath the Hudson Theatre. My father purchased it in the 1920s. It was supposed to be a secure vault for historical documents."
"And the song?" Julian asked.
Emily began to hum a sweet, haunting melody. It was a simple lullaby, but as she hummed, Edward’s eyes widened.
"It's a frequency key," Edward realized. "The vault lock doesn't use a key or a code. It uses a specific acoustic resonance. Clara knew that."
"We need to get there," Julian said, checking his watch. "The police have issued an active manhunt. The transit tunnels are our only option."
They abandoned the SUV, taking only their weapons, the laptop, and a few emergency supplies. Edward carried Sophie, while Julian held Emily’s hand as they slipped into the dark, wet labyrinth of the abandoned train tracks.
As they walked deeper into the cold, echoing tunnels, the sound of dripping water was suddenly replaced by another noise.
The heavy, rhythmic thud of tactical boots.
May you like
And from the darkness behind them, a voice echoed through the tunnel—a voice that sounded shockingly, terrifyingly identical to Edward's own, but younger, colder, and completely devoid of humanity.
"Come out, Father. It's time to meet your replacement."
