The Atlantic howled outside the windows of the private jet as Sierra flew toward Manhattan, the hum of the engines a low, steady rhythm beneath her turbulent thoughts. The name Xavier Lancaster still echoed in her mind, wrapped in digital betrayal. His file in Crestwell's system wasn't circumstantial—it was foundational. His financial fingerprints were all over Project VX-087.
She had once believed her marriage to Xavier was a carefully crafted escape from the Viper life. But now she wasn't sure if he had married her out of love… or surveillance.
The thought made her stomach twist.
In her hand was a drive cloned from the data card. She'd scanned every file, dissected encryption, rechecked metadata. Xavier had authorized bank transfers to a shell firm in the Caymans—Eros Biotechnics. A front for Mirador. For Crestwell. For her cloning.
He hadn't just funded her shadow.
He'd helped build it.
---
Back in Manhattan, the Lancaster estate gleamed like polished ivory under the moonlight. Xavier stood in his study, the lights low, the liquor untouched. He stared at the security footage from his private archive. His hands clenched at his sides.
Sierra.
In Geneva.
Breaking into the Mirador facility.
Looking like a ghost of who she'd once been.
He whispered her name like a prayer—or a curse.
He had wanted to protect her. In the beginning, that's what it was. Funding Crestwell had been about monitoring a threat, keeping her safe, staying close to the fire without getting burned.
But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. She had gotten under his skin. Under his control. And far beyond his reach.
Now the fire was coming for him.
He turned to face the shadows behind his desk. "Activate protocol Lazarus," he said aloud.
The bookshelf slid open.
A cold, steel vault emerged.
Inside: two biometric pistols, encrypted comms, and a retinal-coded dossier labeled Project Requiem.
He hadn't touched it in years.
But Sierra had changed the rules.
---
She arrived in Manhattan just after 4 a.m., slipping into the city like a whisper. No entourage. No security. Just Viper instincts and betrayal riding in her veins.
Her first stop wasn't the Lancaster estate.
It was a downtown penthouse she owned under the name Lena Voss. Untouched in three years. A quiet place where she could think like the assassin, not the wife.
The walls were lined with maps. Weapon caches. Surveillance feeds.
She activated a private signal to one of her old contacts—Abel, a phantom hacker who once ran ops from Morocco.
The screen flickered, then connected.
"You look like hell," Abel said, sipping coffee as if they hadn't gone five years without speaking.
"I've seen hell," she replied. "And it's named Crestwell."
"You finally cracked VX-087?"
"And Xavier was in it," she said flatly.
Abel's eyes flickered. "How deep?"
"Coded transfers. Project launches. Data routing. His signature was everywhere."
Abel frowned. "You want the truth?"
"No," she whispered. "I want evidence. Because I'm going to confront him."
---
That evening, the Lancaster estate stood silent as she entered through the rear garden. She knew every blind spot, every silent hallway. Her heels barely touched the floor.
Xavier was waiting in the study, as if he'd known she would come.
He didn't rise when she entered.
"You've been busy," he said.
"So have you," she replied, holding up the drive. "VX-087. Ring a bell?"
His jaw clenched.
"You funded it, Xavier."
"I monitored it," he corrected. "I thought Crestwell would move on. I didn't know he was cloning you."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," he said, finally rising. "I did it to protect you."
"You did it to control me," she snapped.
He paused. "Maybe at first. But Sierra—everything after was real."
She stared at him, seeing the man she loved and the stranger behind the mask.
"You chose to keep me close," she said. "But never told me the truth. That's not love. That's surveillance."
"I never wanted you hurt."
"You built the blueprint that betrayed me."
The silence thickened between them.
Then Xavier said something that made her freeze.
"I know about the child."
Her blood turned cold.
"What did you say?"
"I know you gave birth before you disappeared. I know Crestwell used her in his trial runs. That's why I never left the project. I needed to find her. For you."
Sierra's heart thundered.
"You knew… all this time?"
Xavier nodded.
"I couldn't tell you. I thought I had time. But Crestwell accelerated everything. The clone. The war. Your daughter is alive, Sierra. But she's not who you remember."
Sierra staggered back, the air sucked from her lungs.
This wasn't just betrayal.
This was something deeper.
A blueprint soaked in blood, secrets… and love.