Chapter 5 Memories of Murder.

.A soft thumping kept time beneath my ear, just like always. That pulse used to wrap around me, steady as an old song played at dusk. It told me I was here, even when things felt broken. Thud-dum. Thud-dum. Through warm liquid it traveled, light but sure against my skin. Then - something shifted. Suddenly, those beats echoed a different tempo buried deep in memory. A pace I hadn't thought of in ages surfaced slowly. Midnight hums through the old clock in Vale Mansion's study. That same clock watching from the shadows when my breath last caught.

Drifting in liquid quiet, curled like a secret, a flash hits - sharp, uninvited. This hollow stillness gives echoes space to grow. When one returns, they all come crawling back. Back they came, sharp and unrelenting. Power flooded a fragile mind not built for such weight. Flashing behind my eyes - everything, too clear, too loud. That instant replayed itself without warning. There I stood once more, though only in thought. Gleaming planks stretched across the library floor at Vale. Light from hanging lamps poured down like slow-moving gold. From floor to ceiling, shelves packed with old books hugged the walls. Outside, the city's bright skyline shimmered through wide windows. That night felt calm. A win. Near the heavy wooden desk, I stood gripping a glass full of golden scotch. Inside, the drink curled lazily when I lifted it high. A cheer rose through the room after I shared the numbers. Though forecasts had fallen short, shares climbed beyond what anyone expected that evening. Success belonged to Vale Corporation now, its profits unmatched before. Clapping echoed around me, each person quick to credit my direction. Praise came fast, thick in the air. Yet victory tasted hollow somehow. That was when everything stopped. A sharp warmth flashed through my chest. For a second, I blamed cheap whiskey on an empty gut. Yet the fire raced faster than any drink ever could. After that came pressure - like stone pressing inward. Jagged. Relentless. My eyes dropped. The front of my shirt bloomed red, soaking cotton like spilled ink. Not wine. Something thicker. There, by the far wall, was Victor Vale. A gun rested in my uncle's grip, his face unreadable, like he'd merely signed a contract instead of ending a life. That moment kept returning, sharp and uninvited, behind my eyes. "You really were something else, Adrian," he'd remarked, quiet as ever, back then. He spoke just like during boardroom talks - measured, cool, without raising a breath. Called me an exceptional chief executive. Described me as someone who could see beyond now. It nearly felt real, what he said. Yet the firearm gripped in his palm said otherwise. Air refused to enter my chest - blood drowned what breath remained. Strength slipped from my limbs as agony traveled deeper. Staying upright became nearly impossible. He moved nearer, easing the barrel down without haste. "A masterpiece, no matter how brilliant, ends up on the block sooner or later," came his steady voice. When that moment arrives, those who know value never let go of the last offer. Then - the ground rushed toward me. Knees met earth. That pricey scotch tumbler slipped right out of my grip, smashing on the marble - same way Elena's broke just before. Yet what froze me wasn't Victor turning against us. It was how Sophia responded. She stood close by throughout it all. Surprise? Panic? Sorrow, perhaps? None showed up. Calm settled over her face instead, cool and sharp. Each stumble I made seemed logged inside her gaze, measured like test results ticking forward. Breathing became hard when Sophia moved closer. Not once did she ask if I was okay. Concern never showed in her eyes. Into my coat pocket went her hand, steady as ever. Out came the encrypted access key - control over every server in Vale Corporation. While looking at it, a small smile stayed on her lips. Killing me wasn't enough for them. Everything I'd made was taken, gone before my eyes. Deep in the dark space, small limbs shook as the past slipped away. Those moments weren't mine now, yet the feelings hit hard. Fire raced through thinking without warning. Muscles moved on their own when the wave came crashing. A rush of stress chemicals flooded my veins. Through the lifeline tied to Elena, adrenaline mixed with cortisol moved fast. Right then, her muscles tensed under the shift. Before long, a calm pulse turned into quick beats. Air pulled sharply in and out as strange signals twisted through her limbs. It hit me suddenly how my feelings were reaching her. Not just noticed - felt. Inside her body. A sharp breath came from up above. That quiet rage of mine? It lived in her now. Rising and falling with each panicked pull of air. Sheets crumpling under unsure hands. Maybe even trembling. Without looking, I could tell. It hit me how my chaos lived inside her now, rippling through each nerve. This made me question what really happened when I died. Things started making sense in a way that chilled me deep down. Killing me wasn't just about cash. He wouldn't have gambled everything for mere wealth. A shape loomed beneath his moves. Not random. Set in motion well before the shot cracked through air. The Bloodline Project. Dr. Graves mentioned it once, calling it routine science work. Now the truth tilted into view. Victor aimed higher than pushing me aside. Something shifted when he tried to erase me. Dying wasn't the end - it was just what came before everything else. Out of Adrian Vale's thoughts, the one who shaped a massive empire through quiet decisions, they formed someone new. Not born, but made - a young form meant to live only by their rules. An heir? Never. More like a tool given skin and breath. A spark of brilliance, formed before breath, built for purpose. Not rebellion in that intellect - just obedience, woven into days since first light. Cold truth settled deep inside. Chance played no part in my return. Crafted is what I was. Shaped on purpose. This life? One piece in a test to forge leadership without flaw. Sound of Victor's voice snapped me back. Elena? That soft question came again. Worry in his words, though I recognized the fake warmth behind them. Your body won't stop trembling, he observed. Now I sensed him near the mattress. Steps had closed the space without noise before. Little one stirs often inside you, he noted with measured breath. Might help to ease your nerves if you took more medicine, he offered. Alarm spiked at the idea. Fast, I buried every feeling rising up - anger most of all. Almost lost control just then. Too close were those old images. Had either man caught even a glimpse - . Something felt off to Graves - too many strange responses, a sign something was wrong. When that happens, people start asking questions. Talk of pulling someone out isn't casual; it means decisions have been made. If they think awareness has taken hold, movement follows without delay. Staying silent wasn't just wise, it became necessary. Moving slowly kept attention away. Being seen now would change everything. My mind wound down on purpose, making my small frame stay frozen in the liquid. The thump of my chest eased into rhythm. Her breath too found its usual pace again. Quiet folded back over everything. Then - something else broke through. A quiet tap of metal. After that, a hush of something dragging. A quiet hum ran through my bones. Over again, the rhythm came back. Click. Click. Metal blades gliding through air after cleaning. My head cleared like frost lifting at dawn. Close by, Dr. Graves murmured something soft, careful not to let Elena catch every word. "Neural links are climbing fast," he said under his breath. A small mechanical tap rang out - someone turned on a recorder. "This path leads straight to conscious thought before delivery," he went on, barely above silence. Cold stillness locked me from moving while his voice moved through the space. "Should that occur," he pressed, "the infant might fight against programming." He dropped his tone lower than wind beneath trees. "We need to dull the mind right away... prior to any chance of defiance forming." OUTSIDE THE DOOR, steel jaws closed hard with a ringing snap - and Victor stood there calm, stating flatly.

cliffhanger: "Begin sedation prep without delay... since waking early means Adrian Vale escapes our hold."