***
The Monteclaro estate had never been this loud in silence.
Voices overlapped in low, urgent tones. Phones rang endlessly. Screens flickered with surveillance feeds, maps, and encrypted data. Men walked quickly but carefully, as if one wrong move could cost them everything.
At the center of it all stood Cadence.
Still. Silent. Dangerous.
His eyes were fixed on Jasper's main screen, watching as lines of code and data flashed endlessly.
Nothing. Not a single trace of Cara. His jaw tightened.
"This doesn't make sense," Cadence muttered.
Jasper didn't look away from the screen. "It does," he replied. "You just don't like the answer."
Cadence's gaze snapped toward him. "Then say it."
Jasper exhaled slowly. "This wasn't rushed. It wasn't sloppy. Whoever took her knew exactly what they were doing."
Across the room, Cleverence let out a quiet, controlled breath.
"They drugged everyone," he said. "Even the butler."
"And the guards," one of their men added. "No signs of struggle. No forced entry."
Cadence scoffed. "So they walked in like guests?"
"Or," Jasper said, finally turning to him, "they were let in."
The room fell silent.
Cadence's eyes darkened. "Watch what you're implying."
"I'm not accusing," Jasper replied calmly. "I'm stating possibilities."
"Then state better ones."
Before Jasper could respond—
Tap.
Kólasi's cane struck the floor.
Once.
And just like that, every voice died.
"Enough," the old man said.
All eyes turned to him.
"Speculation without direction is noise," Kólasi continued. "We don't need noise."
Cadence clenched his jaw but stayed silent.
"Report," Kólasi ordered.
One of their men stepped forward immediately.
"All airports connected to our network are locked down, sir. No private jets have been cleared for departure."
"Seaports?" Kólasi asked.
"Under surveillance. No unusual movement."
"Borders?"
"Being monitored. We've contacted our connections."
Kólasi nodded slightly.
"Good."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room.
"Now tell me something useful."
No one spoke.
Because there was nothing useful to say.
Cleverence suddenly turned, dialing a number on his phone.
Cadence noticed.
"You're calling him?" he asked.
Cleverence didn't answer.
The line rang once. Twice.
Then
"Speak."
The voice on the other line was calm. Too calm.
Cadence immediately recognized it.
Cane.
"I need a report," Cleverence said.
There was a pause.
"You already know," Cane replied.
Cadence stepped closer. "Then explain it."
Silence lingered for a second before Cane spoke again.
"I left her inside the estate," he said. "With full security."
"And then?" Cleverence's tone sharpened.
"And then she insisted she was fine," Cane continued. "She didn't want anyone hovering around her."
Cadence scoffed. "So you listened?"
"I assessed the situation," Cane replied, voice steady. "There were no threats at the time."
"No threats?" Cadence snapped. "She was taken from under your watch!"
"And she was under your butler's watch when it happened," Cane countered.
The room went tense.
Cadence took a step forward. "Watch your tone."
"Enough," Cleverence cut in, though his voice was colder now. "This is not the time to argue."
Silence.
Heavy.
"Tell me what you know," Cleverence continued.
Cane exhaled quietly. "The execution was clean. Too clean. No alarms triggered. No external breach detected."
Jasper frowned. "That's impossible."
"No," Cane replied. "It's precise."
Cadence ran a hand through his hair, frustration building.
"So what are you saying?" he demanded. "That someone just walked in, drugged everyone, took her, and disappeared without a trace?"
"Yes."
The answer was immediate. Blunt.
And it made everything worse.
"That means one thing," Jasper said slowly.
Cadence looked at him. "Say it."
Jasper hesitated—but only for a second.
"They knew the layout."
Cleverence's expression hardened.
"They knew our routines," he added.
Cadence's fists clenched.
"They knew our weaknesses," he finished.
The realization settled heavily in the room.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't luck.
This was targeted.
"Who would dare?" one of the men asked quietly.
Cadence let out a humorless laugh.
"A lot of people," he said. "We're not exactly loved."
"Be serious," Jasper said.
"I am serious," Cadence snapped. "We've taken down syndicates, ruined empires, destroyed families. You think no one wants revenge?"
"That's not enough," Jasper replied. "This required resources. Connections. Intelligence."
"Then list them," Cadence said. "Every name."
"We don't have time to go through every enemy we've made," Jasper said.
"Then narrow it down!" Cadence's voice rose.
"Based on what?" Jasper shot back.
"Based on capability!" Cadence snapped. "Who can pull something like this off?"
Silence.
Then..
Cleverence spoke.
"Someone powerful."
All eyes turned to him.
"Not just rich," he continued. "Not just connected."
His gaze darkened.
"Someone who understands us."
Another notification sound broke the tension.
Jasper immediately turned back to his screen.
"What is it?" Cadence asked.
Jasper leaned closer.
"We have something."
Everyone moved toward him.
"It's from the estate," Jasper said. "A backup feed."
Cadence's heart skipped.
"Play it."
The screen flickered.
Static filled the display before slowly clearing.
A hallway.
Empty.
Still.
"Skip forward," Cleverence ordered.
Jasper obeyed.
The footage fast-forwarded—
Then stopped.
A figure appeared.
Dressed in black.
Face covered.
Moving smoothly through the corridor.
Cadence leaned closer.
"Enhance it."
"I'm trying," Jasper muttered.
But no matter how much he adjusted the image—
The figure remained unclear.
Blurred.
Intentional.
"Damn it," Cadence cursed.
"Wait," Jasper said suddenly.
He slowed the footage further.
Frame by frame.
The figure paused briefly near a camera—
And for a split second—
Turned its head.
Everyone held their breath.
"Zoom in," Cleverence said.
Jasper did.
The image sharpened—
Just enough to show one thing.
The eyes.
Cold.
Unfamiliar.
Unrecognizable.
Cadence felt something twist in his chest.
"I've never seen him before," he said.
"Neither have I," Jasper added.
Cleverence's voice dropped.
"…Exactly."
"That means he's not one of our usual enemies," Jasper said.
"Or he's someone new," Cadence replied.
"Or," Cane's voice came from the phone again, "someone who's been hiding."
The room went quiet.
Cadence exhaled sharply. "Great. That narrows it down to nothing."
"We're missing something," Jasper said.
"Then find it," Cadence snapped.
"I am trying!"
"Try harder!"
"Enough!"
Kólasi's voice cut through them again.
The tension snapped instantly.
The old man looked at the screen, his expression unreadable.
"Play it again," he said.
Jasper replayed the footage.
Silence filled the room as they watched the figure move again.
Precise.
Confident.
Not a single wasted movement.
Kólasi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"This is not his first time," he murmured.
Cadence looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"This man," Kólasi said slowly, "has done this before."
A chill ran through the room.
Cadence stepped back, running both hands through his hair.
"This is pointless," he muttered. "We're just guessing."
"No," Cleverence said firmly. "We're building."
Cadence looked at him.
"Every detail matters," Cleverence continued. "Every movement. Every decision."
He stepped closer to the screen.
"He avoided cameras—but not completely. Why?"
"To show us something?" Jasper suggested.
"Or to mislead us," Cadence countered.
"Exactly," Cleverence said.
Silence followed.
Then...
A new realization hit Cadence.
"What if this isn't about money?"
Jasper frowned. "There's no ransom yet."
"That's my point," Cadence said. "No demands. No contact."
Cleverence's gaze darkened.
"Then this is personal."
The word lingered heavily.
Personal.
AETHER
Something felt wrong.
I couldn't explain it, but it had been sitting in my chest since I arrived at school. I tried to ignore it, focusing on my notes and equations, but my mind kept slipping.
I made mistakes I never usually made.
"What's wrong with me?" I whispered under my breath.
I erased the answer again, staring at the paper in frustration.
Nothing made sense, not the lesson, not my thoughts, not this feeling.
I looked outside the window. Everything seemed normal. Students walking, laughing, living their usual routines. But I couldn't shake the heaviness inside me.
"Aether."
I turned my head.
Marie stood beside my desk with her usual smirk.
"Wow," she said. "You're actually making mistakes now?"
I stared at her blankly.
"Do you need something?" I asked.
She chuckled. "Nothing. Just surprised Miss Perfect is off today."
"If you're done, leave," I said flatly.
She scoffed and walked away.
But even after she left, the feeling didn't.
It grew stronger.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
******
I walked through the hallway, still carrying that strange feeling in my chest.
It wasn't fear exactly.
Just something I couldn't explain.
I exhaled slowly and tried to ignore it.
"Maybe I'm just overthinking," I whispered to myself.
Students passed by like it was a normal day. Laughter, footsteps, conversations—everything felt the same as always.
And yet, something still felt off.
My phone suddenly rang.
I looked at the screen.
Abuelo.
I blinked.
"Right," I murmured before answering. "Hello, Abuelo."
"Aether," his familiar voice came through, calm and steady. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, Abuelo," I replied. "Why?"
"I just wanted to check on you," he said. " I just want to make sure you're okay."
I paused slightly.
Then exhaled. I smiled from that gesture. I always feel lucky for the care my Abuelo have shown for me.
"I'm okay," I said. "I'm still at school."
"Good," he replied. "Don't stay too late today. Go home early."
"I will," I answered softly.
There was a short silence before he spoke again.
"Study well," he added. "And take care of yourself."
"I will, Abuelo. I hope you take care of yourself too, Abuelo."
The call ended.
I lowered my phone and stood there for a moment.
Somehow, that simple conversation made everything feel normal again.
I looked around the hallway.
Nothing unusual. Nothing alarming. Just another ordinary school day.
I let out a slow breath.
"I guess I'm just overthinking," I murmured to myself.
I tightened my grip on my bag and started walking again, my steps calmer now.
The feeling in my chest didn't disappear completely.
But it no longer felt important enough to worry about.
Everything was fine.
At least… that's what it seemed like.