Chapter 20: Unseen Strings

London, United Kingdom – Top Floor Conference Suite, Blackmore Global HQ

Beneath the glow of a crystal chandelier, a dozen powerbrokers from across continents sat around an oval glass table. The Blackmore Global HQ's top-floor conference suite overlooked central London, where the city buzzed beneath a veil of clouds. But inside the room, the tension was thick.

At the head of the table, Damien adjusted the platinum cufflinks on his midnight suit. The sleek, quiet elegance of the room mirrored his presence—calculated, calm, and commanding.

A board member, Gerard Vance from the New York finance division, cleared his throat. "The ValenTech breach last night... it wasn't random."

Damien didn't flinch. "I'm aware."

Gerard continued, "We believe The Obsidian Reach is expanding operations. Tavara was their first step. London's tech corridor could be next."

Damien's gaze swept the room. "Let them come. But make sure our firewalls and proxies lead them into a pit they can't climb out of."

The board murmured. Few knew the extent of Damien's silent war against the underworld. Even fewer dared ask about the secret files he accessed every midnight from his private server—files that mapped every shadow syndicate from Moscow to Cairo, and the black market trails of biotech experiments.

As the board exited, Damien remained behind, alone.

He opened his tablet, typing a command string only a select few in the world would understand. Within seconds, multiple camera feeds filled the screen. He paused at one—Tavara's inner city, showing a woman seated alone in a public library. Nora.

Zoom in.

She had no idea that her every move was now being monitored through backdoor systems installed in every surveillance server across Tavara. Or so he thought.

In truth, Nora had planted a mirror tracking node days ago, rerouting facial recognition scans to decoys. What Damien was seeing wasn't real-time—just a clever loop.

While he stared, miles away, Nora was already underground—literally. Inside an abandoned research facility linked to a corporation known as Red Sun Technologies, buried beneath the outskirts of Tavara.

There, she found cryo-chambers. Each labeled with initials, many not matching any public database.

"Human experiments," she whispered, horror lacing her voice.

She snapped images with her wrist-link device, uploading them to a hidden node in Zurich. She didn't know if Damien was on her side yet, but if he ever was—he'd need this evidence.

Back in London, Damien's phone vibrated.

A single message blinked on the encrypted screen:

"You're not the only ghost in this game, Mr. Blackmore."

He froze.

For the first time in years, someone had breached his private line.

And he had a sinking feeling... it was her.