flash
The neon lights of Washington D.C. blurred past the window of the rideshare as the heavy silence of the night pressed against my chest. My phone vibrated relentlessly in my palm, a digital heartbeat of panic. Thane’s name flashed across the screen for the twelfth time. I silenced it, tossing the device onto the seat beside me, my mind racing through the fragments of the evening. / Chapter 7 / 17

Chapter 10 - Justice Served, A New Dawn

Six months after the trial, the sprawling Georgetown estate stood empty, its lavish furnishings auctioned off to pay restitution to the victims of the Sterling family's massive financial fraud. The government appointed me as the special liquidator to oversee the dissolution of their illicit empire, returning stolen funds to working-class families and charities.

I stood on the front steps of the mansion for the last time, the autumn breeze rustling my hair. The ghosts of the past—Genevieve, my father, and the terrified girl I had once been—finally felt at peace.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Agent Miller confirming the final asset transfers. I swiped it away, looking out over the manicured lawns that had once been a gilded cage designed to break my spirit.

They thought they could crush me with insults, break my soul over a plate of short ribs, and bury me in the dark alongside the secrets of their past. But they made one fatal miscalculation: they mistook my patience for weakness, and my background for ignorance.

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I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against the linoleum floor.

I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against...

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

I turned my back on the mansion, sliding the heavy iron gates shut behind me with a loud, satisfying clank. The key was in my hand, and the world was wide open. I wasn't just a survivor anymore. I was the storm.

What would you have done if you were in Eloan's shoes? Drop your thoughts in the comments below!

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