Chapter 302 No Turning Back

Chapter 302 No Turning Back
Scarlett's POV

The luxury yacht salon felt like a gilded cage as I faced Everett Carter, finally seeing him without his Scythe disguise. Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across the marble floors, creating harsh shadows on his pale features, making his blue eyes appear almost colorless.

"So, you are the leader of the dark organization, Scythe," I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Your grandfather, Edmund Carter. He's the bastard who destroyed my family in that Middle Eastern refugee camp."

Everett's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck visibly tensing. He shifted his weight, and I caught the slight tremor in his hands before he clenched them into fists. "What happened to your family in the Middle East had nothing to do with my grandfather Edmund Carter."

I stepped closer, studying his face for any tell. "Do you think I will believe you, Everett?"

"I'm not lying." His voice carried a strange mixture of defensiveness and resignation, like a man confessing to a crime he didn't commit but couldn't escape. "The previous Scythe was assassinated by underlings from the Dark Organization's higher-ups. I'm a member of Dark Organization myself—I seized the opportunity to take power and replace him."

The admission hung in the air between us like smoke. So he wasn't the original Scythe, but he was still part of the organization that had caused so much pain.

"But," Everett continued, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial, "I'll admit that my grandfather saving your father wasn't out of kindness. It was a conspiracy. He wanted to control Benjamin's medical talents, to use them for his own purposes."

My hands clenched into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. The familiar surge of anger threatened to overwhelm my careful control. "So you admit it."

"Later, when I became the leader of Dark Organization, I specifically sought out Dr. Sterling instead of Benjamin as our researcher." Everett's eyes met mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl. There was something almost desperate in his gaze, as if he was pleading for understanding. "Because I didn't want you to hate me."

The audacity of his statement made my blood boil. "How considerate of you. And what about Victoria?" I asked through gritted teeth, "You had my sister captured, injecting her with viruses for research, causing her pain. That was under your orders, wasn't it?"

"Victoria's situation..." He paused, running a hand through his dark hair, leaving it disheveled. For a moment, he looked almost human, almost vulnerable. "I'm sorry. I admit that much of her suffering was caused by me. She was injected with the virus from a young age, yet she can coexist with it. She is our most successful test subject, which is why we brought her back for research."

"The two children were supposed to be created from the combined genes of Victoria and Gabriel, but the dark organization's researchers mistakenly used your genes instead of Victoria's, which led to the current situation. However, you can rest assured that your genes were only used to cultivate those two children and no others."

"As for why the two children chose Gabriel's genes," Everett continued, seemingly eager to confess, his words tumbling out faster now, "it's because Derek Rothschild is my grandfather's illegitimate son. Everything my grandfather did against the Rothschild family was to pave the way for Derek."

Before I could process this revelation fully—Derek, Gabriel's own brother, connected to all this—the salon doors exploded inward with a tremendous crash. The sound reverberated through the opulent space like thunder, sending crystal glasses tumbling from a nearby bar cart.

Gabriel burst through, his face a mask of controlled fury. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled—hair mussed, tie askew, a small cut on his cheek that was already beginning to bruise.

"Your grandfather is that goddamn mysterious man?" Gabriel's voice was deadly quiet as he advanced on Everett, each step measured and threatening.

Behind him, Aria Werner stumbled in, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead, her usually perfect composure completely shattered. "Gabriel Rothschild disguised himself as Dr. Sterling's driver and infiltrated the yacht," she gasped, one hand pressed against her ribs.

Aria's eyes widened as they fell on me, her mouth dropping open in shock. The color drained from her face so quickly I thought she might faint. "You... you're Dr. Sterling?"

Gabriel's gaze briefly flicked to me, and in that split second, I saw relief, concern, and something else—pride. Then his attention returned to Everett, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

"So, you're saying that the tragedy that befell my family was orchestrated by your grandfather?" Gabriel's words were carefully controlled, but I could hear the underlying tremor of rage.

"And what if it was?" Everett sneered, and just like that, the vulnerable man from moments before vanished completely. His spine straightened, his chin lifted with arrogant defiance. "Gabriel, knowing the truth changes nothing. You'll never leave this ship, and Scarlett will be mine!"

Everett's demeanor shifted completely. The mask of remorse and vulnerability he'd worn moments earlier dissolved like sugar in water, replaced by the cold calculation I should have expected from someone who'd orchestrated so much pain. This was the real Scythe—ruthless, narcissistic, and utterly without conscience.

I smiled slightly at his arrogant words, feeling a familiar calm settle over me. This was what I knew—combat, strategy, the dance of predator and prey. "You know what," I said as I walked over to stand beside Gabriel, our shoulders almost touching. "Dark Eagle and Lone Wolf fighting together will be unstoppable."

The shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable. Both Aria and Everett stared at Gabriel with expressions of genuine shock, as if the earth had suddenly shifted beneath their feet. I watched the pieces click into place in their minds—Gabriel, the cold financial genius, was also one of the world's most feared mercenaries.

"Dark Eagle and Lone Wolf," Everett murmured, his face paling until he looked almost translucent against the yacht's white interior. "Fighting together."

The recognition of just how dangerous this situation had become for him was written across his features like a death sentence. Two of the most legendary mercenaries in the world, standing unified against him. The odds had just shifted dramatically, and we all knew it.

Aria made a sudden dash for the door, her heels clicking frantically against the marble. But I moved faster, years of training overriding conscious thought as I intercepted her. My hand closed around her wrist in a grip that made her gasp, her expensive bracelet digging into her skin.

"Going somewhere?" I asked pleasantly, though my grip was anything but gentle.

"Let me go!" Aria struggled, but she was no match for me. Her attempts to break free were clumsy, desperate—the flailing of someone who'd never been in a real fight.

Everett's voice cut through our scuffle with chilling calm. "If you and Gabriel join forces to destroy me today, I guarantee you'll never see Victoria again."

I froze, my grip on Aria loosening slightly. The world seemed to tilt, and for a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat.

"She's my insurance policy," Everett continued, his pale eyes fixed on mine with predatory satisfaction. "One word from me, and she disappears forever."

Gabriel stepped forward, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white. "Where is she?"

"Safe," Everett replied smoothly, the word dripping with false reassurance. "For now."

I felt the familiar weight of an impossible choice settling on my shoulders like a lead blanket. Victoria's life hung in the balance, and despite everything—despite my anger, my need for revenge, my desire to see justice done—I couldn't let her die.

"Fine," I said finally, releasing Aria completely. She stumbled backward, rubbing her wrist where my fingers had left red marks. "I can let you walk away today. But you give Victoria back to me. We trade—person for person."

Everett pulled out his phone, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth like a cat who'd just cornered a particularly interesting mouse. "I'll have her brought—"

"No need to make that call," a familiar voice interrupted from the doorway. "I'm already here."