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A black SUV screeched to a halt outside Greyson’s residence. Max stepped out, scanning the area with raised brows. At the gate stood a well-armed guard, and all around the lush garden, security personnel were patrolling with weapons in hand. Something was definitely off.
He walked up to the guard, flashing his usual friendly grin and patted the man lightly on the shoulder.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs2Iarlkztc
“What’s with all the security, brother? Did something happen here?”
The guard replied with calm seriousness, “Yes, sir. There was an attack earlier today. A few men tried to break into the house while the Director was away.”
Max’s grin faded. He stared at the guard, eyes slightly widened. “Why?”
“They were after the lady staying inside. Tried to kidnap her. But the Director arrived just in time… took them all out.”
“All of them?” Max asked for confirmation, raising his eyebrows.
The guard nodded grimly. “Not a single one made it out.”
Max swallowed hard. “Guess the boss was in no mood for mercy today…” he thought to himself. Then quickly smiled again and said, “Well, I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. Sounds like your Director could use a little rest after all that action.”
He turned to open the car door, but just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7HO5cVgopr
“Man, not now…” he muttered under his breath. He pulled it out and answered it casually, leaning against the car.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2fCziWnPFH
“Hey, bro. Just what exactly have you been up to today?”
From the terrace above, Greyson stood with both hands resting on the railing, looking directly at Max. His voice came through the phone, low and serious.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyjYXZNjkfD
“Come upstairs. We need to talk. It’s important—before things spiral out of control.”
And with that, he hung up.
Max blinked, staring at his phone, then up at Greyson.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVGXiyfg0HI
“Well, damn. That didn’t sound like good news.”
Sliding the phone into his pocket, he made his way toward the entrance. He gave a light-hearted salute to the armed guards in the garden, still smiling—but with a flicker of concern in his eyes.
Once inside, he climbed the stairs and opened the door to Greyson’s study. Greyson was standing near a table beside the bookshelf, deep in conversation with Nico. As Max entered, both men went quiet. Nico quickly gathered some files and retreated to a corner, burying his face in the documents.
Max looked between them with raised eyebrows. Something was definitely going on.
“Okay, what’s happening here?” he asked, his voice light but cautious. “You’re both acting like someone just declared war and forgot to tell me.”
Greyson turned to him, calm but intense. “Just wait a moment. One more person needs to be here for this conversation. Then I’ll explain everything.”
Max sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Seriously? What kind of dramatic, action-hero stuff have you gotten me into now? You know I’m just an innocent civilian, right? I don’t do well with all this danger and secrecy stuff.”
Greyson listened to Max’s remark, then casually gestured toward the couch—as if silently saying, “Shut up and sit down.”20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjhQd2Db3ks
Max scowled, pouting like a sulking lover, then dragged himself over to the couch and slumped down.
Greyson walked over to Nico, who leaned in and spoke in a low voice, “Sir, I was going to update you about Max today as well.”
Without looking too interested, Greyson waved him off. “Right now, what happened today is a much bigger problem. We’ll talk about that first.”
Nico looked a bit uneasy, but when Greyson raised a questioning eyebrow and asked, “Was everything normal with Max today?”20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy6l3JSTiqy
Nico glanced over his shoulder at Max, who was now scrolling through his phone, seemingly unconcerned. Then Nico looked back, and Greyson—already growing impatient—spoke in a sharp, low voice.
“Nico, I’m already furious today. Don’t waste time. If you have something to say, then say it clearly.”
Nico quickly opened his laptop, tapped a few keys, and placed it in front of Greyson. “These are pictures from the construction site where Max was this morning.”
Greyson nodded slightly, trying to grasp the context.
Nico pulled up another file. “And this… this is the footage of the cars used in today’s attempted kidnapping. They thought the house’s backside wasn’t under surveillance, but hidden cameras had already been installed. Every car’s number plate is clearly visible.”
Greyson’s eyes narrowed. “And what does any of this have to do with Max?”
Nico swallowed and replied, “After Max left that construction building, three cars exited from the same location. These are the same cars used in the attack on this house.”
He played the footage. It was undeniable.
“These are the same men, sir. And before they came here, they met with Max.”
Greyson was stunned—but didn’t show it. His voice remained calm. “So what you’re saying is… Max might be connected to them?”
Nico nervously licked his lips. Greyson’s expression was growing darker by the second.
“Possibly, sir,” Nico whispered. “And remember… just before my call, it was Max who called you. He said he was unwell. Said he was in pain. But if that were true, wouldn’t he be at home resting instead of showing up here?”
Greyson heard everything. But instead of responding, he turned and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Everyone seemed to be testing his patience today, and he was right on the verge of exploding. Nico, meanwhile, feared exactly that.
Max was still distracted with his phone, while Nico remained buried in his files. Greyson sat in silence—calculating, simmering.
A sudden knock broke the tension.
“Come in,” Greyson called.
The head maid stepped inside, hands respectfully clasped. All three men looked at her.
She turned to Greyson and said nervously, “Sir… she wants to see you. I tried to calm her down, but she’s furious. She won’t listen to a word I say. She insists on speaking with you—right now.”
Greyson let out a deep breath. “Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The head maid nodded and left. The moment the door clicked shut, Max raised his hand and opened his mouth to speak—but Greyson cut him off instantly.
“Don’t even start,” he snapped. “You’ve already figured out that everything that happened today… was because of that girl. So zip your mouth, sit back, and don’t spew your usual nonsense.”
Max grinned widely, teeth on full display, and went back to inspecting his hands—like they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Nico lifted his head slightly, seeing Greyson glaring at Max, then quickly dove back into his file, pretending not to exist.
Greyson glanced at both of them once… then stormed out.
The door shut behind him with a firm thud.
The second it did, Nico let out a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. Max, now thoroughly bored, abandoned his hand-examination and moved closer to Nico.
“Dude,” Max muttered. “He’s mad about something else and takes it out on someone else. Typical Greyson.”
Then, with mock sympathy in his eyes, he looked at Nico.20Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEoqxsth3my
“How do you people even survive this moody volcano every day?”
Nico didn’t look up. “After everything that happened today, he’s probably blaming himself. The attack… the fear it caused among the staff… the fact that someone dared to breach his house. That kind of thing doesn’t sit well with him.”
Max leaned against the table. “They came for the girl, right? Who even is she? What kind of woman has half an army coming after her—inside the house of the Director of one of the world’s most powerful agencies?”
Nico nodded slowly. “That’s what we’re about to find out. Just waiting for Carter.”
Max visibly twitched. “You mean the mission planner Carter… Carter Lynn?”
Nico sighed and nodded again.
Max clenched his jaw. “I hate that guy. Working with him is a guaranteed headache.”
He lightly slammed his fist against the table and groaned, “Ugh, what a day…”
.............................................
Greyson stepped out of his room and quietly opened the door to Lena's room. She was seated against the bed's headboard, her posture calm but firm. As Greyson looked at her face, he noticed something new—anger painted across her features, her eyes serious and fiery. Until now, he'd only seen fear and silence on this face. This was a version of Lena he hadn't seen before.
He walked slowly toward the bed and stood right in front of her, hands in his pockets. Lena turned her gaze from the window and looked at him. His black eyes held a calm softness, but hers—those honey-coloured eyes—burned with quiet rage.
Greyson spoke calmly, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Suppressing her anger, Lena spoke through clenched teeth, “How long have you known me? How do you even know who I am—and who you are? You lied to me!”
Her voice had risen by the end, but Greyson stood unaffected.
He answered with quiet composure, “Since the moment I found you in the forest. I knew who you were because your grandfather told me everything.”
Then, addressing her last question, he tilted his head slightly and said, “Who am I? I'm the Director of the Omega Task Force. Your grandfather was a very important man to this agency… and to me. We were close.”
Lena looked at him, confused. “Then why are you dragging me into all this?”
Greyson met her eyes with a hint of amusement and a soft smile. “You know why you're involved, Lena. I’m just protecting you. Because this case is extremely dangerous… and your grandfather entrusted me with your safety.”
Lena snapped back, “Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be lying to me too. Maybe you’re the enemy.”
Greyson remained calm, even slightly amused. He walked around to the other side of the bed, sat down with one leg stretched and the other bent, his arms folded across his chest, and quietly observed her.
His gaze made Lena nervous. She tried not to show it, but Greyson’s subtle smile and intense eyes—it felt like he didn’t believe a word she was saying, and yet wasn’t judging her either.
He finally spoke, gently but clearly, “When you didn’t tell me the truth even after I asked more than once, I stopped asking. I was waiting… waiting for the moment you’d trust me enough to tell me everything on your own. If I were really your enemy, don’t you think I would’ve forced the truth out of you the very first day? Or shown less mercy? But I didn’t. I waited. I took care of you. I wanted you to feel safe first, then open up.”
Lena was still, her eyes glued to her hands resting in her lap. His words… they weren’t aggressive or defensive. They were gentle. Thoughtful. And every one of them made sense. If he was the enemy, he wouldn’t have been this kind. He wouldn’t have stayed up late at night to comfort her when she cried in her sleep. He wouldn’t have treated her wounds so gently.
Her vision began to blur as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled silently onto her hands. She lowered her head and began to cry. She didn’t even know why exactly—maybe because, in this cruel and heavy world, she had finally found someone who was sincere with her. Or maybe… because in this impossible time, she finally had a shoulder to lean on. A place to rest her heart and pour out all the pain she'd kept locked away.
Greyson stood silently, watching Lena's bowed head with gentle eyes. He knew she’d cry for a while, and he wanted to let her — if it helped her feel lighter, even a little. After a moment, he placed a box of tissues in front of her. Lena lifted her gaze, her eyes meeting his. He was already looking at her — those honey-colored eyes of hers were clouded with pain again, her nose reddened from crying, lips pressed tight as if trying not to fall apart. She looked like a scared little girl.
Greyson couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. Every time he looked into those eyes, his heart would stir in a way he didn’t fully understand — or perhaps didn’t want to understand.
Lena pulled a tissue from the box and dabbed her tears, then sat quietly, her face still lowered. Greyson tilted his head slightly, watching her for a moment before speaking softly.
“Lena... you can tell me what happened. I'm here to listen. Only then can I help you.”
His voice was calm, inviting. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Greyson glanced away — he couldn’t bear to look into those eyes swimming in grief.
After a pause, her voice broke the silence.
“That night, I was in my room... writing in my diary. Grandpa was in his office, studying some files. He'd been really worried lately. He’d even increased the house security…”
She sniffled, and Greyson quietly stood, poured her a glass of water, and placed a chair beside her before sitting down again.
“A week before that night,” Lena continued, “Grandpa called me into his office. He showed me a bag — said that if anything ever went wrong in his absence, I had to protect that bag... and if things got dangerous, I needed to run with it.”
Greyson leaned in, his tone focused. “And that night — what happened?”
Lena wiped her tears, voice trembling.
“Grandpa didn’t know the new guards he hired were working with the enemy. That night, around midnight, I remembered it was his birthday. I stepped out to wish him, and I saw one of the guards locking his office door and heading downstairs. He looked at me and said, ‘Sir asked not to be disturbed,’ so I just returned to my room…”
Her voice shook as she continued,
“But something felt wrong. So I sneaked into Grandpa’s office once the guard was gone. Grandpa wasn’t in his chair. I looked around... and then I heard a faint groan from near his desk.”
Tears started rolling again. Greyson reached out, gently placing his strong hand over hers in silent comfort.
“I found him lying on the floor beside the desk... bleeding—bleeding so much. His body... there were so many deep cuts. I froze. I was terrified.”
She broke down again, covering her face with her hands. Greyson didn’t say anything, just gently squeezed her hand and continued softly patting it.
“I wanted to save him,” she said between shaky breaths, “but he told me to take the bag and run. He said... the one meant to protect me would find me.”
She looked up at Greyson then. He had been watching her hands until now, but when she met his eyes, he smiled softly and said,
“Well… I found you, didn’t I?”
Lena gave a faint nod.
“It was so hard,” she whispered. “Leaving him there… But as I stepped out to get help, I heard gunshots — so many. I ran back, locked the office door, grabbed the bag, and escaped through the garden in the back. I had just gotten a little distance when…”
She squeezed her eyes shut, the memory overwhelming.
“…there was a massive explosion. They blew the house apart. Grandpa was still inside.”
She shut her eyes tightly, withdrawing her hands from Greyson’s to wipe her tears. He glanced down at his now-empty hands, then looked up.
“Where’s the bag your grandfather gave you?” he asked gently. “I need it. Whatever’s inside that bag... that’s what cost Augustus West his life. It’s crucial.”
Lena quietly told him everything.
When she finished, Greyson took a deep breath and stood up. She looked up at him, and he gave her a small smile.
“Thank you.”
She nodded slightly, and he added, “You don’t need to cry anymore. Whoever put you and Augustus through this... I promise you, I’ll make them suffer worse. That’s my word.”
He turned and took a step toward the door… but stopped. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder and said softly,
“But there’s one condition.”
Lena gazed at him silently, as if to say I have nothing left to offer. Greyson looked out the window at the quiet night, then turned his eyes to her ag
“You’re not allowed to cry like this again. That’s my condition.”
Lena sat frozen, eyes fixed on him. Greyson looked away from the window, met her gaze, and smiled faintly. Then he gestured to her eyes and added,
“I don’t like tears in those eyes… and I don’t think your grandfather would have either. Don’t put them through this pain — not when even just looking at them hurts.”
With that, he walked out of the room.
Greyson was gone.
But Lena just sat there, motionless, staring at the spot he’d just stood — the hunter who, through her eyes, had just claimed the throne of her heart.
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A little while had passed when a soft knock echoed on Lena’s door. As she looked up, the head maid entered, offering her a gentle smile.
“Ma’am,” she said politely, “Sir asked me to tell you to freshen up and change. He’ll be introducing you to some people shortly.”
Lena raised a questioning brow. “What people? And why does he want me to meet them?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” the maid replied with an apologetic shrug.
Lena gave a small, understanding nod. “Could you please pick out something for me to wear?” she asked softly. “And… help me to the bathroom?”
“Of course,” the maid replied quickly. She moved to the closet, pulling out a simple black dress. After placing it inside the bathroom, she gently helped Lena up, supporting her carefully as they made their way to the bathroom. Once Lena was inside, the maid closed the door quietly behind her.
Now alone, Lena stood silently in front of the mirror.
Her reflection stared back at her — tangled, unkempt hair, pale skin, faint dark circles forming beneath her eyes. She lifted her fingers and touched her face gently, examining it. One hand gripped the wall-mounted stand tightly for support — something Greyson had installed for her, so her injured leg wouldn’t have to bear the full weight.
She stared at herself.
There was a time when she used to fuss over the tiniest pimple… when even the slightest tension on her skin would trouble her. But now… as she looked at her once-beautiful face, she didn’t feel bad at all.
Her life had outgrown worries about blemishes and appearance. Bigger battles now waited at her doorstep.
She took a deep breath.
It was time to become stronger — to prepare herself for what lay ahead. She couldn’t afford to be weak anymore. Not in front of anyone.
Lena bent over the sink and turned the tap on, splashing cold water on her face. The water trickled down her skin, washing away the remnants of her tears — not just to cleanse her face, but to ready her soul for the storm to come.
For the fight for survival.
For the battle against a ruthless world.
That delicate girl was now preparing herself for war.
...........................................
As the cold deepened, both man and beast had retreated into the warmth of their shelters. Outside his house, Greyson sat alone on the front steps, dressed in a black coat, dark hair falling over his forehead, his sharp gaze fixed on the thick trees across the street. There was a certain weight in his black hunter’s eyes — a weariness that lingered from everything that had happened today.
After his conversation with Lena, Greyson hadn’t returned to his room. Instead, he’d come outside. He needed a moment alone — a breath of silence to sort through the storm.
What Lena had told him didn’t entirely surprise him. He knew he had enemies — many of them. But what he couldn’t understand was who had the audacity to go this far. He had already investigated everyone he suspected — and none of them had the guts to attack his home.
Whoever it was... if they had the nerve to strike once, they could do it again. That meant it was no longer safe to stay here — not until this case was solved.
They had to move. And unfortunately, there was only one other place he could think of — a place he had never wanted to return to.
Because…
His train of thought was interrupted by a hand gently landing on his shoulder.
He looked up and saw Carter Lynn standing beside him — file in hand, round-framed glasses resting neatly on his face, his expression calm and professional as always.
Greyson exhaled slowly and stood up.
“Let’s go inside, Carter,” he said, brushing the thought aside. “You already know the details of this case, so I don’t need to waste time bringing you up to speed.”
As they climbed the steps together, Greyson led Carter into his bedroom.
The sight that greeted them was almost comical.
Nico was slumped over a file, fast asleep, his face nearly buried in the pages. One hand rested on the laptop keyboard, the other still clutching a pen that was seconds from falling. Max, on the other hand, had passed out on the single-seater sofa — head leaning back, mouth open, and one arm awkwardly frozen in midair like a bargain-rate drunk.
Greyson cast a brief glance at both of them before motioning Carter inside. Carter stepped in, standing quietly at one side of the room, eyes flicking over the “sleeping beauties.”
Without a word, Greyson reached back… and slammed the door shut with such force that it echoed through the entire house.
Had it not been for the fact that Max and Nico were both part of his agency, Greyson might’ve chosen to slam them instead of the door.
The impact jolted everyone awake. Nico shot up from his chair, disoriented, while Max clutched his chest in sheer panic, eyes darting around like he’d just survived an explosion. Even Lena, brushing her hair in the next room, froze mid-stroke. Downstairs, the maids dropped their utensils.
But this was nothing new. This was just classic Director Greyson.
Max blinked, still groggy, while Nico straightened himself in quiet embarrassment. Greyson peeled off his coat and threw it aside, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Then he walked over to the whiteboard standing near the wall.
Turning it toward the room, he looked at them and spoke with firm authority:
“Alright. You've slept. You've rested. Now — back to work.”
Max smirked shamelessly, while Nico gave a sheepish smile. Carter, ever serious, simply nodded and took a seat.
One by one, they all pulled up chairs in front of the board, sitting down quietly.
Their postures straightened.
Their expressions grew serious.
And then, they waited — eyes locked on Greyson — ready for whatever came next.
Greyson pulled the table closer, turning the laptop screen toward himself. With one hand resting on the table, he leaned slightly forward and began typing swiftly on the keyboard. Then he stood straight, slid both hands into his pockets, and looked squarely at Max.
But this time, his tone was sharper. Serious.
“Before anything else… answer my questions.”
Max gave a small nod in response, bracing himself.
Greyson’s voice remained calm, but the undertone was hard. “This afternoon, when you called me, I was just about to leave the agency and head home. You said you were feeling unwell — that you were in serious pain, couldn’t even speak properly. Now here you are… at my house in the middle of the night, when you should’ve been resting.”
Max shifted slightly in his seat, glanced at Nico and Carter on either side, then said, “Why are you asking me this now? Come on, it was just between us…”
But Greyson didn’t waver. His tone grew colder.
“Because right when you called me… there was an attack on my house. And guess what? The same construction site you were visiting this morning — the cars seen leaving from there were the exact same vehicles that approached my house.”
He turned the laptop toward Max.
On the screen, a series of images appeared — one showing Max inside his car, another where he was laughing and speaking with someone suspicious, followed by high-resolution shots of car number plates leaving the site... and finally, footage showing those very same plates pulling up behind Greyson’s house.
Max stared at the screen, then slowly looked at Greyson. His face was unreadable — not surprised, not angry — just... empty.
After a moment, he said with thin disbelief, “You’ve got spies on me? You’re tracking me now? Watching where I go, what I do?”
Greyson took a breath. “Don’t twist this. I did it for your safety. That’s all.”
Max let out a sarcastic chuckle and gestured toward the screen. “This is your version of safety? Interrogating me like this?”
Greyson cut him off sharply, “I don’t want to escalate this, Max. Just answer what I asked so we can get to the bottom of it. I know they must’ve tried to trap you too. You’re not the enemy here — but I need the truth.”
Max leaned back in his chair, his voice now steadier, more focused.
“That site belongs to a new hotel project I’m overseeing. I went there to check progress… and I called you because I wanted to talk about it. That’s all.”
Greyson gave a slight nod, his mind processing everything quickly. He turned toward Nico and said, “Alright, now that this part is clear — let’s move to the plan.”
He picked up the intercom and spoke into it. “If she’s done freshening up, bring her to my room.”
As he stepped toward the centre of the room, Nico raised a cautious question.
“Sir… is Lena going to be a part of this plan?”
Greyson nodded. “Yes. Whoever this Ghost is… they’re after Lena. So we’re going to use her as bait.”
Nico frowned, voice laced with concern. “But what if… something happens to her during all this?”
He didn’t even finish the sentence.
Greyson’s voice snapped like a whip. “MISS Lena. And you don’t need to worry about her safety. That’s my concern. Lena, myself, and the entire staff are relocating to the family mansion.”
Max, despite still being visibly annoyed, turned toward Greyson with a complicated expression.
He knew what that house meant to Greyson.
The family mansion.
The place he had sworn never to return to.
It was the house where Greyson had been left alone.
Where he had lost everything.
The very house that haunted his nights with the brutal memories of his parents’ tragic deaths. A house filled with silence, trauma, and shadows he had spent years trying to escape.
And now… he was walking back into that darkness.
For her.
For Lena.
Max said nothing, but the concern in his eyes was undeniable.
Greyson was going back to the one place that still bled. ...............................................
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