The Queen’s Gambait

Geraldine moved like a ghost through the Donovan estate, her heels echoing against the marble. It was nearly dawn, but her mind was a midnight storm. The kids were asleep—Reena curled up with her sketchpad beside her, Lovia murmuring in dreams.

They had no idea the world they were born into was twisted, manufactured, owned.

She paused at the glass window, staring at the security lights blinking beyond the gates.

She wasn't going to wait for them to come after her.

She was going to strike first.

Meanwhile, in Dominion Tower

Chaos had erupted.

Lachlan Valez stood before the Dominion board, flanked by his private guards. His presence wasn't a visit—it was a hostile takeover.

"I warned you," he said, voice as smooth as it was sharp. "But you made this personal."

"You don't have the leverage," one of the older men snapped. "You think just because you have half the Eden schematics—"

"I have more than schematics," Lachlan interrupted. He dropped a file on the table.

Inside: the true extent of Project Genesis. Not just Reena and Lovia, but other children—orphans, trafficked minors, test subjects from third-world nations. All tied to Bekett's funding chains.

"Your golden boy lied. Not just to his wife. To all of you."

One of the board members reached for a panic button.

Lachlan raised his hand. "I wouldn't."

Behind him, the elevator dinged—and Kaison walked in.

Stunned silence fell over the boardroom.

"You're working with him?" a woman gasped.

Kaison smirked. "You wanted Eden. I'll give you Eden. But not through Donovan."

Lachlan's eyes glinted. "Dominion changes hands today. Bekett's out. Geraldine? You leave her alone."

"And if she doesn't cooperate?" the man asked.

"Then you'll see what happens," Lachlan said coolly, "when you piss off a queen with nothing to lose."

Back at the estate

Geraldine hacked into Bekett's office system through an encrypted link. Her screen lit up with live surveillance footage, access logs, emails—and one flagged meeting scheduled for 7 a.m.

Client: The Scholl Institute

Agenda: Transfer of RE-4521 and LO-8827

She choked on her breath. That's today.

They were going to take her kids.

A screeching car sound pulled her back to reality.

Tracy barged in. "Ma'am—they're on the move. Bekett's office is closing in. A black van just passed the checkpoint."

Geraldine didn't hesitate. She slammed her laptop shut and sprinted for the stairs.

"Get the girls!" she screamed. "Wake them now!"

They ran through the back garden, headlights piercing the dark behind them. Geraldine clutched Lovia's hand as Reena dashed ahead.

Sirens.

Gunfire cracked in the distance—just a warning.

Then a voice called through a megaphone: "Geraldine Donovan, surrender the children. You are violating Dominion protocol."

"I am their mother!" she yelled back.

"You were a contractor."

She spun.

A masked figure stood ahead of her—gun in hand.

Geraldine reached into her coat.

Before she could draw the pistol, a shot rang out—not from her.

The masked man dropped.

Standing on the hill was Lachlan, gun still smoking.

Behind him, Kaison and two SUVs rolled up.

"You're not alone," Lachlan called.

They fled to an abandoned safe house on the outskirts of the city. Geraldine paced as Reena and Lovia drank cocoa under Tracy's watchful eyes.

Lachlan leaned on the doorway, his shirt bloodied but his expression unreadable.

"You really think I'd let Bekett take them?" he asked.

She turned, arms crossed. "Why? Why help me?"

"Because you're stronger than him," Lachlan said. "Smarter. And because I don't like being lied to."

He tossed her a flash drive.

"What's this?"

"Dominion's fallback plan. A hidden lab. Offshore. They were never going to stop with your daughters. You were the first phase. The next mothers are already being selected."

Geraldine swallowed hard.

This wasn't just personal.

It was global.

And if she didn't burn it all down, it wouldn't stop.

"Then we go public," she said.

"No," Lachlan said. "We go deeper."

She raised a brow.

"Bekett's still in this. You want justice?" he leaned close. "Help me take him out—not just legally. But where it hurts."