Chapter 195 Someone is Cleaning House

Chapter 195 Someone is Cleaning House
Faruk’s mansion looked like something you’d expect the mega rich to live in , even the estate looked shabby compared to this home.

The estate rose behind towering iron gates and manicured black stone gardens like power itself had taken physical form. Warm golden light spilled from enormous windows while luxury vehicles lined the circular drive beneath softly falling rain.

The gates opened before our convoy fully stopped.

Of course they did.

He already knew we were coming.

Darius stepped from the SUV first, black coat moving sharply in the rain while Thane and Vincent spread outward automatically behind him.

I followed a second later.

The mansion guards looked tense immediately.

Not because of me.

Because of Darius, he looked like he brought hell with him.

The doors opened before we reached them.

Faruk stood waiting inside.

Perfectly composed.

Of course.

Dark tailored clothing.

Hands casually folded behind his back, his blonde hair tied in a bun. Expression smooth with that same cold arrogance that always made me want to hit him on principle.

He looked at Darius first.

Then me.

Then the others.

One dark brow lifted slightly.

“Well,” he said dryly. “This feels hostile already.”

Darius didn’t slow walking.

“This isn’t a courtesy visit.”

Faruk sighed dramatically.

“What a shame. I would’ve arranged wine.”

The atmosphere sharpened instantly.

The guards near the entrance shifted uneasily while Vincent closed the doors behind us with deliberate force.

Faruk’s gaze flicked briefly toward him.

“Comforting.”

Darius stopped directly in front of his brother.

No warmth.

No family softness.

“Where is Eric Vortan?”

Straight to the throat.

Faruk’s expression didn’t change immediately.

Too controlled.

Too careful.

But I saw it.

The slight pause.

Interesting.

“My father-in-law is apparently very popular lately.”

“Don’t play games with me.”

Faruk tilted his head slightly.

“I wasn’t aware we were playing.”

God.

The sarcasm dripping off him could’ve dissolved steel.

Darius stepped closer.

The room cooled instantly.

“You’re hiding him.”

“No,” Faruk replied calmly.

“You expect me to believe you don’t know where he disappeared to?”

Faruk’s eyes sharpened slightly then.

“Careful.”

Darius didn’t move.

“Or what?”

The brothers stared at each other in silence heavy enough to crack bone.

Same blood.

Same power.

Different damage.

And suddenly the room felt far too small for both of them.

Faruk finally exhaled softly.

“You storm into my home with armed guards and accusations.” His voice stayed smooth but colder now. “Should I interpret this as you accusing me?”

Darius’s expression hardened instantly.

“I’m questioning whether my brother is obstructing an active investigation involving illegal hybrid experimentation and mass murder.”

The mansion guards went very still.

Faruk’s jaw flexed once.

Tiny movement.

But real.

“You think I’m involved with Calder.”

“I think your mate’s father funded him for decades.”

Faruk looked toward me then.

Sharp.

Assessing.

Like he already knew I’d connected too many pieces together.

I held his gaze evenly.

Not intimidated.

Not anymore.

After Siberia?

After V-Canis?

Men like Faruk stopped feeling untouchable.

The silence stretched long enough to become dangerous.

Then finally Faruk stepped aside slightly.

“You’re welcome to search.”

Too easy.

My instincts sharpened immediately.

Darius noticed too.

But before the tension escalated further, I touched his arm lightly.

“I’ll talk to Amina.”

His gaze snapped toward me immediately.

“You think she knows?”

“Yes.”

Faruk’s expression darkened subtly.

Interesting.

Without waiting for permission, I walked deeper into the mansion.

The house smelled like expensive wood polish, rain, and something warm cooking somewhere deeper inside.

Not fear.

Not yet.

I followed the scent into the kitchen.

And found Amina standing beside the massive marble counter stirring something slowly in a copper pot like the world outside wasn’t unraveling around her.

She looked up the second I entered.

Beautiful woman.

Sharp eyes.

Controlled posture.

But exhaustion lived beneath her elegance now.

She already knew why we came.

Of course she did.

Neither of us spoke immediately.

Rain tapped softly against the kitchen windows.

The scent of herbs and roasted garlic filled the room.

Normal.

Painfully normal.

Amina finally set the spoon down carefully.

“You always arrive with chaos.”

I leaned against the doorway.

“You married into it.”

One corner of her mouth twitched faintly.

Not amusement.

Recognition.

For a moment we simply looked at each other.

Two women standing in the middle of a war created mostly by powerful men.

Then quietly, Amina asked:

“Did they capture Calder?”

“Yes.”

Something flickered behind her eyes.

Not relief.

Fear.

Interesting.

“You spoke to him.”

Not a question.

“Yes.”

Amina looked down briefly at the simmering pot. Silence stretched.

I watched her carefully.

The tension in her shoulders.

The way her fingers tightened slightly against the counter edge whenever Eric Vortan’s name hovered near the conversation.

She knew something.

The question was whether loyalty outweighed fear.

“Amina.”

Her gaze lifted slowly toward mine.

“If anyone knows where your father went, it’s you.”

Her expression closed instantly.

“No.”

Lie.

Not even a good one.

I stepped farther into the kitchen.

“You know he funded hybrid experimentation.”

Silence.

“You know he worked with Calder.”

Still silence.

The rain outside intensified harder against the glass.

“He’s your father,” I said quietly. “I understand that.”

Amina laughed once softly.

Without humor.

“No you don’t.”

The words landed sharper than expected.

She turned away briefly, gripping the counter harder.

“When you grow up around men like him…” Her voice lowered. “You stop knowing where loyalty ends and survival begins.”

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

Because I understood that more than she realized.

Amina looked back at me slowly.

“You think exposing him changes anything?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

The certainty in her voice unsettled me.

I crossed my arms.

“Then tell me why Calder was terrified.”

That got her attention instantly.

Her eyes sharpened.

“What did he say?”

I watched her carefully.

“He said someone else is involved and your father’s life is in danger.”

Amina went pale.

Not dramatically.

Subtly.

Enough.

God.

She knew.

The realization slid cold through my spine.

“Amina.”

Her breathing roughened slightly now.

“My father said things recently.” She swallowed hard. “Strange things.”

“What things?”

She hesitated.

Then quietly:

“He kept talking about architecture.”

My pulse slowed dangerously.

Amina looked genuinely frightened now.

“Three nights ago he contacted Faruk demanding transport clearance through the eastern corridor. When Faruk refused…” She shook her head slightly. “He panicked.”

I stepped closer immediately.

“Where did he go?”

“No.”

“Amina”

“He’s still my father.”

“And people are still dying and being turned against their will.”

Silence crashed between us.

Then softly

More softly than I expected

I said:

“If someone is cleaning this up…” My voice lowered. “Then your father isn’t safe either.”

That hit.

I saw it.

The exact second fear overtook loyalty.

Amina closed her eyes briefly.

Then whispered:

“There’s an old Council safehouse near the coastal cliffs east of Blackwater Port.”

My pulse spiked.

“He’s there?”

“He was.”

Good enough.

I moved immediately toward the door.

Amina caught my arm suddenly before I could leave.

“Lyra.”

I turned.

And for the first time since meeting her

Amina looked completely honest.

“If you find him alive…” Her throat tightened slightly. “Please keep him alive”

The drive to the safehouse happened fast.

Rain hammered the convoy while Thane hacked traffic systems remotely from the second SUV and Vincent coordinated Blood Guard units through encrypted comms.

Darius drove.

Which meant we were either arriving quickly or dying violently.

Possibly both.

“You believe her?” Vincent asked through the comms.

“Yes,” I answered immediately. 

Darius glanced toward me briefly.

“I do too.”

The coastal roads narrowed sharply near Blackwater Port.

Dark cliffs overlooked crashing ocean waves while old Council properties sat isolated among rain-soaked forests and abandoned military routes.

The safehouse appeared suddenly through the storm.

Every instinct in my body screamed instantly everything seemed wrong. No perimeter movement.

No guards.

No lights.

Darius stopped the SUV hard enough gravel sprayed across the road.

Weapons came up immediately.

Blood Guards spread outward in formation.

Rain poured violently now.

I stepped from the vehicle and the smell hit instantly.

Blood.

Too much blood.

“Oh no.”

We moved fast after that.

The front doors already hung partially open.

Vincent entered first with rifle raised.

Then immediately stopped.

“Jesus Christ.”

The interior looked like slaughter.

Bodies everywhere.

Guards torn apart across marble floors and shattered walls while blood painted entire sections of the hallway black-red beneath flashing emergency lights.

Not gunfire.

Not tactical execution.

This was predatory violence.

Brutal.

Fast.

The smell alone nearly overwhelmed the room.

V-Canis.

Multiple.

Darius moved beside me carefully.

“Check for survivors.”

But even before the words finished—

I already knew there weren’t any.

The hybrids had massacred everyone.

Systematically.

Like they came here with one purpose only.

Kill Eric Vortan.

Erase the evidence.

We found him in the lower security room.

Or pieces of him.

My stomach twisted violently.

The old Councilor sat collapsed against the far wall beneath shattered monitors and blood-slick concrete, throat ripped open so violently half the room looked sprayed with crimson.

Not interrogation.

Execution.

Someone wanted him silenced permanently.

Thane entered behind us carrying portable system drives.

His face hardened instantly at the scene.

“Damn.”

He crossed toward the destroyed surveillance systems immediately.

“Can you recover anything?” Darius asked.

“Maybe.”

The room stayed silent except for rain hammering the structure overhead while Thane worked through broken security systems and corrupted footage.

Finally,

One monitor flickered alive.

Static rolled briefly across the screen.

Then footage appeared.

Everyone went still.

The timestamp showed barely thirty minutes earlier.

Eric Vortan pacing the security room visibly terrified while armed guards secured entrances throughout the safehouse.

Then

The lights cut out.

The footage glitched violently.

And the hybrids arrived.

Three V-Canis units tore through the guards with horrifying efficiency, moving faster than bullets while black veins pulsed visibly beneath stretched flesh.

Not random attack.

Coordinated elimination.

Vortan screamed orders.

Tried running.

One hybrid caught him instantly.

But what froze the room

Was the fourth figure entering afterward.

Not V-Canis.

Human.

Tall.

Wearing black tactical clothing.

Face obscured beneath shadow and static distortion.

The hybrids stopped moving when the figure entered.

Not instinctively.

Obediently.

My pulse slammed hard against my ribs.

The figure crouched briefly beside dying Eric Vortan.

Said something too distorted for audio recovery.

Then

Snapped his neck.

Clean.

Efficient.

Final.

The footage cut abruptly afterward.

Silence swallowed the room whole.

No one moved.

Rain battered the safehouse windows while blood pooled slowly across the concrete floor beneath the dead Councilor.

And suddenly the message became horrifyingly clear.

Someone was cleaning house.

And they controlled the hybrids now.