Chapter 3 - THE LIVING GHOSTThe words hung in the air like a heavy hammer. My boys might be alive.
For ninety days, I had mourned them. I had stared at three empty caskets at a symbolic funeral, forced by the police to accept that their bodies were too burned to identify. I had lived in a purgatory of grief, wishing every single night that I could have died in their place.
"Where are they?" I screamed, grabbing Matteo’s lapels, shaking him with all the strength left in my broken body. "If you are lying to me, I swear to God, Matteo, I will kill you myself!"
"Look at the report," Matteo commanded gently, pulling me down toward the table.
He opened the leather binder. Inside were high-resolution satellite photographs and leaked police files from the night of the crash.
"Look closely at the crash scene," Matteo pointed out. "There was only one adult body in the driver's seat—your husband. But the back seats where your twin boys were supposed to be strapped in? Empty. The police report was falsified by a corrupt precinct captain who was paid off by The Architect."
Tears streamed down my cheeks, blinding my vision. "If The Architect took my boys, why hasn't he used them yet?"
"Because he needs you to activate the biometric lock," a sharp female voice interrupted from the doorway.
I turned around to see a striking woman with razor-sharp blonde hair wearing a tailored tactical suit walking into the room. She carried a laptop open to a live surveillance feed.
"This is my sister, Nina," Matteo introduced her. "She runs our intelligence network."
Nina placed the laptop on the table. "The Architect was waiting for you to break, Elena. He knew that if he grabbed you immediately, the DOJ would lock down the server. He needed you isolated, desperate, and unaware. He was planning to kidnap you from your apartment tomorrow morning. But Matteo taking you onto his jet threw a wrench into his plans."
"Then where are my sons now?" I begged.
Nina hit a key on her keyboard. An image flickered onto the screen—a heavily fortified compound built into the cliffs of Isle Royale, a remote island in Lake Superior.
"Our deep-cover operatives spotted two three-year-old boys being brought into this facility six hours ago," Nina said softly. "They are being guarded by elite mercenaries."
I looked at Matteo, my heart burning with a fierce, primal rage I didn't know I possessed. The fragile widow who had spent three months crying in an empty apartment was gone. In her place stood a mother whose children were being held hostage by demons.
"Get me my sons," I demanded, looking Matteo dead in the eye. "Get them back, and I will open whatever vault you want."
May you like
Matteo smiled—a dark, dangerous smirk that sent chills down my spine.
"Pack your gear," Matteo told his sister. "We’re going to war."
