Chapter 98 The Man Who Started It All (Demilia’s POV)
The message sat on my phone like a loaded weapon.
We need to talk. About Amara. About you. About him.
My fingers trembled as I stared at the screen.
I didn’t need Adrian to trace the number.
I didn’t need Riven to analyze the language.
I already knew.
This was him.
The man whose blood ran through my veins.
The ghost I had lived with my entire life without ever seeing.
The reason my existence had been treated like a long-term investment instead of a human life.
And Ethan, my billionaire husband, my shield, my storm was already moving.
“I’m going to meet him,” he said, fastening his cufflinks with controlled precision.
There was no hesitation in his voice.
“No,” I said immediately. “You’re not going alone.”
He turned to me slowly.
“This isn’t a conversation you should hear,” he said.
“That’s not your call,” I snapped. “He’s my past.”
His jaw tightened.
“And you’re my present,” he replied. “And I won’t let anyone destabilize you.”
The word destabilize made me laugh bitterly.
“That ship sailed the day I was born.”
The car ride was suffocating.
Ethan sat beside me, silent, unreadable, radiating the kind of restrained fury that had ruined men before breakfast.
“You’re angry,” I said softly.
“I’m focused,” he corrected.
“That’s worse.”
He glanced at me then, eyes dark.
“I don’t like men who believe they have a claim on what’s mine,” he said.
My heart stuttered.
“I’m not property,” I said quietly.
“No,” he replied. “You’re my choice.”
The distinction mattered.
And it terrified me how much it mattered.
The meeting place was deliberately neutral.
A private members’ club.
Old money.
Discreet.
Soundproof.
The kind of place where secrets went to feel important.
He was already there when we arrived.
Tall.
Distinguished.
Silver threading his dark hair.
And when he looked at me
Something ancient and knowing passed through his eyes.
“Demilia,” he said softly.
Hearing my name on his lips felt like trespassing.
“You don’t get to say it like you know me,” I replied coldly.
He nodded once, accepting the blow.
“That’s fair.”
Ethan stepped forward, positioning himself subtly between us.
“I’m Ethan Blackwell,” he said. “Her husband.”
The man smiled faintly.
“I know exactly who you are,” he replied. “That’s why I asked for this meeting.”
Possession flashed through Ethan’s gaze.
“You asked for her,” Ethan corrected. “Not me.”
The man’s eyes flicked to him calmly.
“Then you should listen very carefully,” he said, “because what I’m about to say affects your empire.”
We sat.
The air felt thick with history and unspoken violence.
“My name is Julian Cross,” the man began. “And years ago, I made a decision I’ve regretted every day since.”
I folded my arms.
“You sold your DNA,” I said flatly. “You don’t get to call that regret.”
His expression tightened.
“I didn’t sell myself,” he said quietly. “I was recruited.”
That word again.
Recruited.
“They came to me because of my lineage,” he continued. “My intelligence markers. My influence projection. I was told the program was theoretical. That no child would be harmed.”
I laughed sharply.
“You helped build a factory for human potential,” I said. “You don’t get absolution.”
Ethan leaned back, eyes calculating.
“You’re saying you were manipulated,” he said. “Convenient.”
Julian met his gaze evenly.
“I’m saying I was naive,” he replied. “And then I was trapped.”
My chest burned.
“Why now?” I demanded. “Why show up now?”
Julian exhaled slowly.
“Because they’ve activated Amara fully,” he said. “And once that happens, she won’t belong to herself anymore.”
My breath caught.
“What do you mean fully?” I whispered.
“They’ll isolate her,” he said. “Train her. Shape her. And when she’s old enough, deploy her.”
Deploy.
The word made me sick.
“You knew this,” I said. “You knew this could happen.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “And I tried to stop it.”
Ethan scoffed. “Too late.”
Julian turned to him sharply.
“I went underground,” he said. “I dismantled every contract I could. I burned bridges. But the system was bigger than me.”
“So you ran,” I said bitterly.
“I survived,” he replied quietly. “So I could come back when it mattered.”
Silence stretched.
Then Ethan spoke.
“What do you want?” he asked coldly.
Julian’s gaze returned to me.
“I want to help you end this,” he said. “Completely.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t get to play hero now.”
“I don’t want to,” he replied. “I want to disappear again. But before I do, you need something.”
He slid a thin folder across the table.
Ethan reached it first.
Inside
Documents.
Names.
Funding trails.
Board members.
Private institutions.
The spine of the system.
Ethan’s expression darkened.
“This could collapse half the industry,” he said quietly.
“That’s the point,” Julian replied.
I stared at the folder, my heart pounding.
“Why give this to us?” I asked.
Julian met my eyes.
“Because you’re stronger than they ever expected,” he said. “And because I owe you a future I helped steal.”
Emotion surged unexpectedly.
Anger.
Grief.
Something dangerously close to pity.
“I don’t forgive you,” I said softly.
“I don’t expect you to,” he replied.
The tension shifted suddenly when Julian looked at Ethan again.
“There’s something else,” he said.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Speak.”
Julian hesitated.
“The program didn’t just design Demilia’s potential,” he said. “It paired her.”
My stomach dropped.
“Paired her how?” Ethan asked sharply.
“With you.”
The world stopped.
“What?” I whispered.
Julian’s voice was steady.
“They anticipated she would marry into power,” he said. “They tracked candidates for years.”
Ethan surged to his feet.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Julian replied calmly. “Your rise, your public profile, your proximity it was engineered to intersect.”
My heart slammed violently.
“They wanted a power couple,” I whispered. “An influential weapon.”
Ethan stared at me like the ground had vanished beneath his feet.
“Our marriage…” he began.
“Was supposed to happen,” Julian finished.
Silence detonated.
I stood slowly.
“So what?” I said shakily. “Nothing between us is real?”
Ethan turned to me instantly.
“Don’t you dare,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare let them rewrite us.”
Julian looked genuinely remorseful.
“They underestimated one thing,” he said.
“What?” Ethan snapped.
“Choice,” Julian replied. “You married her because you wanted her. Not because they told you to.”
Ethan’s gaze burned into mine.
“Tell me you don’t believe them,” he said quietly.
My chest ached.
“I believe us,” I whispered.
As we left, my emotions were chaos.
The past had reached into my present.
My marriage had been threatened by a lie older than love itself.
Back in the car, Ethan gripped the steering wheel too tightly.
“They don’t get to define what we are,” he said.
I placed my hand over his.
“They already tried,” I replied. “And failed.”
He looked at me then raw, unguarded.
“You’re mine,” he said. “Not their experiment.”
“And you’re mine,” I replied.
But fear lingered.
Because now we knew
Our love wasn’t accidental.
It was targeted.