CHAPTER 54

The Puppet Master

Julian's words landed like a blade slicing through my gut. The Oath's top assassin. Me.

I staggered back, my breath shallow, my pulse pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. No. It couldn't be.

"I told you, Nathan. The truth would break you." Julian's voice was eerily calm, a contrast to the storm raging inside me. "You were their finest weapon. Precise. Unstoppable. And when they realized you were hesitating—when they knew you cared for Evelyn—they took that choice away."

I wanted to deny it, to rip apart his words before they could take root, but something dark and terrible clawed its way into my mind. Flickers of memory. A cold, sterile room. Restraints biting into my wrists. A voice, flat and emotionless. Obey.

The whisper coiled around me like a snake. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

"They reprogrammed you, Nathan," Julian continued, watching me like a scientist studying a volatile experiment. "They forced you to complete the mission. You weren't in control."

My body swayed. My stomach twisted. No.

But the pieces—the jagged, horrifying pieces—were clicking together. The gaps in my memories. The nightmares that never made sense. The ghostly feeling of blood on my hands when I woke in the dead of night.

Evelyn's blood.

I sucked in a sharp breath, and the air burned my lungs.

"I didn't—" My voice broke. "I wouldn't have—"

"But you did," Julian said softly, mercilessly. "Not by choice. But the result was the same."

A roar built inside me, wild and savage. My hands shot out before I knew what I was doing, grabbing Julian by the collar and slamming him against the wall. The impact cracked through the air, and the room trembled with my fury.

"You knew," I snarled, my voice rough with something raw and uncontainable. "You knew what they did to me, and you let me believe it was all my fault?"

Julian didn't flinch. His dark eyes met mine, unwavering. "I needed you to remember on your own."

My grip tightened, my knuckles whitening. My muscles burned with the need to hurt something, to make someone pay—but Julian? No. Not yet.

"You're lying," I growled, even though I could already feel the truth sinking its claws into me.

"You know I'm not." His voice was steady, but there was something behind it—a flicker of something deeper. Regret? Pity? I didn't want either.

I shoved him away with a frustrated snarl. He stumbled but straightened, smoothing his jacket as if I was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

My breathing was ragged, my body shaking. The room felt too small, the air too thick. The walls were closing in.

"Nathan—"

"Shut up." My head throbbed, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of rage and devastation.

This was worse than betrayal. Worse than death.

I had spent years drowning in guilt, in grief, believing I had chosen to kill Evelyn. I had hated myself for it. I had become a shell, haunted by a crime I thought was my own doing.

But now?

Now I wasn't just a murderer. I was a puppet.

Something inside me cracked.

A dark, all-consuming rage rose from the depths of me, violent and uncontrollable. My vision blurred at the edges. My breath came in ragged bursts.

And then I moved.

With a snarl, I lunged at Julian, my fist colliding with his jaw. The impact sent him reeling, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. My fists found his ribs, his face—anything to make him feel even a fraction of the torment ripping through me.

Julian didn't fight back.

That only made it worse.

"You should've told me!" I roared, slamming him against the desk. "You let me believe I was a monster!"

Julian coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "I had to."

My fist hovered in the air, trembling. My entire body shook with barely restrained fury.

"What the hell does that mean?" I demanded, my voice hoarse.

Julian exhaled slowly, wiping the blood from his mouth. His lips curled into a half-smile, but it wasn't amusement. It was something closer to resignation.

"If I had told you before you were ready, you wouldn't have believed me." He met my gaze, his dark eyes boring into mine. "You had to see it for yourself. Feel it. Otherwise, it wouldn't have changed you."

My stomach twisted.

This wasn't just about the past.

This was about now.

I stepped back, my hands shaking, my breathing ragged.

"What did you do?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

Julian straightened, rolling his shoulders. "I set you free."

A chill slithered down my spine.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Julian tilted his head, studying me. "You were their greatest weapon, Nathan. And now? Now you're mine."

Something cold and sharp pierced through my fury. I stared at him, my pulse hammering against my ribs.

"I don't belong to anyone," I spat.

Julian smirked. "We'll see."

And then the lights flickered.

The air shifted.

Something was wrong.

I tensed, instincts screaming at me.

And then—

The door burst open.

Gunfire erupted.

Shadows spilled into the room—figures in black, masked, armed. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, diving for cover as bullets shredded the air.

Julian barely flinched.

He expected this.

Planned it.

The realization hit me like a truck.

I turned to him, fury and betrayal igniting all over again.

"You set me up!"

Julian's smirk widened as he sidestepped a bullet like it was nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Of course I did."

Rage coiled in my chest, but I didn't have time to react. The attackers were closing in, and I was outnumbered.

My muscles coiled. My instincts screamed.

I had a choice.

Run—or fight.

The past was a storm behind me. The future was a void ahead.

And I was standing at the edge.

Julian watched, waiting.

A test.

A game.

I bared my teeth.

I don't belong to anyone.

With a growl, I launched forward, ready to tear through whatever stood in my way.

Because if there was one thing I knew, one thing I could control—

It was that I wasn't a puppet anymore.

I was the one pulling the strings.