CHAPTER 60

The Ultimate Betrayal

The gunshot cracked through the air.

I barely had time to move before Riley tackled me, both of us hitting the ground hard. The bullet buried itself in the metal panel behind us, sending a shower of sparks into the room.

Emily had fired at me.

My daughter.

My chest tightened, but there was no time to process it. I rolled to my feet, my eyes locking onto her as she took a calculated step forward, gun still raised, her face an unreadable mask.

"Emily," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "You don't want to do this."

Her head tilted, as if studying me, as if trying to place the name I had just spoken. But there was nothing in her expression—no flicker of recognition, no hesitation, just cold, ruthless focus.

Behind her, Julian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold like a man who had already won. "She doesn't know you, Nathan," he said, his voice almost mocking. "She thinks you're the enemy."

The words felt like a blade to my gut.

Emily's fingers tightened around the grip of her gun. She was poised, trained, her movements precise. She wasn't a child anymore. She wasn't the girl I had once read bedtime stories to, the one who had fallen asleep on my shoulder during thunderstorms.

She was something else now. Something they had turned her into.

I took a slow step forward, raising my hands. "You do know me. You might not remember, but you do. I'm your father."

Her expression didn't change. "My father is dead."

The air left my lungs.

Julian chuckled. "That's the beauty of it, isn't it? The Oath doesn't just erase people—they rewrite them." He met my gaze, his smirk sharp as a knife. "She's their perfect soldier. No past. No attachments. No weaknesses."

My hands clenched at my sides.

Julian had always been a manipulative bastard, but this—this was his masterpiece.

I turned back to Emily. "You are not their weapon."

Her eyes flickered—just for a second. A fraction of hesitation. And I latched onto it.

"You loved painting when you were little," I pressed, my voice rough. "You used to draw on the walls, and your mom would pretend to be mad, but she kept every single piece." My voice broke slightly. "You had a stuffed bear named Charlie. You wouldn't sleep without him."

Something flickered again. A crack in the armor.

Then Julian sighed dramatically. "Alright, enough of this. Emily—" His voice sharpened. "End this."

The hesitation vanished.

Emily's stance shifted, her finger tightening on the trigger.

She was going to shoot me.

And I wasn't going to stop her.

If this was what they had done to her—if they had taken her memories, her love, her soul—then she needed to see that I would never hurt her.

Even if it killed me.

A shadow moved.

Riley.

She was faster than I expected, lunging toward Emily before I could react. The two of them crashed to the ground, the gun skidding across the floor. Riley moved like lightning, locking Emily's arms, pinning her down.

"Run, Nathan!" Riley shouted.

I froze.

"No," I growled, stepping forward. "We're not leaving her—"

"You don't have a choice!" Riley shot back, her face twisted in something raw, something I didn't want to name. "She's not ready. She'll kill you if you stay."

I looked at Emily, at the way she struggled against Riley with terrifying strength, her face blank, detached.

She was fighting like she had been trained to.

Like a soldier.

Like an Oath operative.

The pain in my chest turned suffocating.

"We can bring her back," I said. It was more a plea than a statement.

Riley's gaze softened—just for a second. "Maybe," she murmured. "But not today."

The words felt like a final nail in the coffin.

Then Julian moved.

I barely had time to register his attack before he was on Riley, slamming her against the wall, his knife flashing.

Riley gasped as the blade sliced across her ribs.

Something inside me snapped.

I lunged, grabbing Julian by the collar, slamming him into the ground. My fists landed hard—once, twice—until I heard the sickening crack of his nose breaking.

But Julian only laughed. Blood dripped from his mouth, but his grin was still there. "She'll never be yours again, Nathan."

Rage clouded my vision. I raised my fist again—

"Go!" Riley's voice cut through the haze.

I turned.

She was still holding Emily back, barely, blood dripping down her side. She looked at me, and I knew—this was it.

She wasn't coming with me.

"Riley—"

"Go!" she repeated, her voice fierce, desperate. "Take your damn daughter and go!"

Emily thrashed against her grip, her movements more frantic. "Let me go!" she hissed.

Riley met my eyes. "Get her out, Nathan. Before it's too late."

Something inside me shattered.

I bent down, grabbing Emily before she could react. She kicked, fought, screamed, her fists slamming into my chest as I threw her over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking.

Then I ran.

Riley's gunfire echoed behind me, the sounds of a battle I wasn't meant to fight.

I didn't look back.

I couldn't.

My feet pounded against the concrete, Emily thrashing the entire way. She was strong, so damn strong, but I held on tighter, my grip unbreakable.

Alarms blared. The entire facility was in chaos.

I burst through the emergency exit, into the cold night air, into the waiting arms of the Resistance vehicles.

"Drive!" I barked, throwing myself inside.

The car roared to life, tires screeching against the pavement as we sped away from the burning headquarters.

Emily thrashed one last time—then went still.

I turned, my breath heavy, my hands trembling.

She was staring at me.

Not with fear. Not with anger.

But with nothing.

Absolute, chilling nothing.

Her blue eyes—the same eyes that used to light up with laughter, with love—were empty.

She didn't recognize me.

Didn't trust me.

Didn't love me.

And in that moment, as I held my daughter in my arms, I realized the most terrifying truth of all.

I may have gotten her back.

But I might have already lost her.