21

The Mercedes director on the other end of the line seemed to be taking notes, his voice an anxious, servile whisper. "Mr. Daniel, I'll place the order right now. But the license plate... the personalized one might take a while." Daniel laughed, a low, cold laugh. "Rest assured, the license plate will be available," he said, the certainty in his voice absolute. "I want the car at my residence before dark. Understood?" the director replied, his voice filled with frantic urgency. The call cut off, and Daniel turned to Elara, a calm smile on his face. He approached her, his eyes a gleam of affection. "A good morning gift for my wife," he said, and the tenderness in his voice made her sigh.

But the peace lasted a short time. Daniel picked up the phone again and dialed the second number. This time, he lingered a little longer, retreating to a more private corner, where the sounds of the party were a distant murmur. His face, once one of affection and peace, became a mask of control and coldness. His brown eyes, once filled with tenderness, became pools of darkness. The tone of his voice changed completely, becoming lower, more refined, more dangerous.

"Did you see what they did in Israel?" Daniel said, and his voice was no longer that of a man in love, but that of a general giving orders to an army. "I want a billion dollars for you. A million for each head. I want it in the same style they did, and I want you to record it and upload it to YouTube. And on one of the walls, draw a ghost. Do you understand the message I want to convey?"

On the other end of the line, the owner of the Wagner Group, one of the most dangerous and feared organizations in the world, played it cool. Daniel's voice was the only authority he recognized, and the command was clear. "Yes, Mr. Daniel. We will do as you wish."

Elara, just a few feet away, felt a chill run down her spine. She couldn't hear the words, but Daniel's voice, so cold, so full of power, frightened her. She felt a stab of fear, a reminder of the other side of Daniel, the side that was a ghost, a force of nature. This man, whom she loved with a passion that consumed her, was also a serial killer, a general who commanded an army of mercenaries.

But the conversation wasn't over. Daniel paused, and his steely voice became a little more human. "You don't kill children," he said, the seriousness in his voice palpable. "Under no circumstances. If a child is hurt, I'll shut down your organization. Do you understand?" The owner of the Wagner Group, on the other end of the line, responded with a "Yes, Mr. Daniel. Understood." And the call was cut off.

Daniel, the richest man in the world, the faceless ghost, the hitman, Elara's lover, turned. His face, once a mask of coldness, softened. The glint of danger in his eyes transformed into a glow of affection. He returned to the party, to the music, to the barbecue, to his family. He moved away from Elara and kissed her gently on the lips. "I'm so glad you're here, my lotus flower," he whispered, his voice a balm for the fear she felt. "With you, I feel more human."

Elara looked at him, her eyes filled with a silent question. This man, who had just given orders for a mass murder, was the same man who loved her with a passion that consumed her. This man, who had just spoken of murder, was the same man who cared for the life of a child. This man was a paradox, a contradiction. He was light and darkness. He was life and death.

She kissed him back, a kiss readily accessible, a kiss of love. She knew Daniel's universe was a place of duality, a place of light and shadow. And she was ready to embrace them both. She was his woman, and her mission was to love him, in all his facets. Their story was just beginning, and she couldn't wait to see what the next scene would bring. The barbecue continued, the music played, laughter filled the air, and Elara, the queen, stood at the center of that universe, beside her king.

The crackling of the barbecue grill slowly faded, replaced by the softer sound of the music Daniel had chosen, a captivating rhythm that filled the rooftop air. The sun had departed the horizon, leaving behind a sky tinged with deep purples and blues, dotted with the first twinkling stars. The city lights below lit up in a golden constellation, a tapestry of sparkles stretching as far as the eye could see. The festive atmosphere, though still present with the voices of Daniel's "family," was transforming, taking on a more intimate tone as the night wore on.

Elara sat on one of the plush, luxurious outdoor sofas, wrapped in a cashmere shawl Henry had brought. The residual heat of the day and the light drink Daniel had served warmed her from within. Hergreen eyesThey fixed on Daniel, who stood before them, his silhouette prominent against the city's glow. He had changed into a dark linen shirt that draped perfectly over his broad shoulders and impeccably tailored trousers. Despite his casual attire, the aura of power surrounding him was undeniable. The conversation he had just had, with its icy voice and incisive orders, reverberated in Elara's mind, an echo of a reality she was only just beginning to comprehend.

She took a small sip of her drink, the smooth, sweet liquid sliding down her throat. The curiosity that had always driven her was now mixed with a twinge of apprehension. She had to ask. She had to understand why.

"Daniel," she began, her voice a hesitant whisper that struggled to be heard above the din of the party. Her eyes met his, and she saw the change. That glow of tenderness he'd shown her was tinged with something older, darker, something that lived deep within his soul.

He sat beside her on the sofa, his movement graceful and effortless. The woody scent of sandalwood, which seemed to be his signature, enveloped her, and the warmth of his body was comforting. He took her hand, his long, strong fingers intertwining with hers. His touch was a reminder of their connection, a bond that transcended the words and brutal actions she had witnessed. He looked at her, and the seriousness on his face was a silent invitation to the truth. He knew what she wanted to ask. He always knew.

"You want to know why," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but each word was clear, carrying a weight she felt vibrating in her own chest. He paused, his eyes sweeping the city skyline, as if reading the stories of millions of lives below. "Look at this city, Elara. So many lights. Each one is a life, a story. So many destinies, so many secrets. But also so many injustices. So much pain."

He squeezed her hand, and his gaze returned to her eyes. "The world is broken, my lotus flower. Not just at the margins, but at the heart of it all. The institutions that should protect, the governments that should serve, the laws that should deliver justice... they fail. Constantly. Monsters roam free, protected by fortune, by influence, by a void of morality that corrodes everything from the inside out." He traced a soft line on the back of her hand with his thumb. "I've seen it. I've seen the indifference. The bureaucracy that turns its back on suffering. The corruption that allows the guilty to prosper while the innocent are crushed. No police force, no intelligence agency, no court of justice has the reach, the capacity, or, often, the will to see it through."

His voice took on an iron tone, a sound of unshakable conviction. "Did you see what happened that day in Israel? The brutality, the savagery…"defenseless children and women massacred, with no chance to fight. The world watched, shocked, but unable to respond quickly enough, strongly enough. The truth is, these atrocities happen with frightening frequency, and they don't always make headlines. Where were the defenses? Where was the justice? In moments like these, the very structure that should protect fails catastrophically.

He continued, his voice now a taut edge of steel, but with a new layer of melancholy. "I know what it's like to watch the world crumble around you, Elara. I know what loss is, the emptiness left when those who should be your safe haven are gone. I understand every parentless child, every child who lost their parents in that attack, and so many others. I feel their pain viscerally, because I know the echo of absence. I was born with a unique ability. A mind that sees patterns, that moves through the invisible gears of the world, that cannot be contained by physical or digital barriers. I can touch every thread of the vast global tapestry. I can see the truths others hide. And with this ability came a choice. I could use it to hide, to hoard more power for myself, to live in a bubble of luxury and indifference." He looked at her, and a glint of something deep, almost painful, passed through his eyes. "But I couldn't. Not after seeing what I saw, understanding how broken reality is. The tragedies the world ignores, the lost children, the families destroyed, the unsolved crimes that become just dusty archives. I understood that if no one else would act, I would. I am the answer that doesn't officially exist. I am the fist that strikes when others are paralyzed. I am not bound by treaties, borders, or diplomacy. I operate where despair reigns."

Daniel paused, his voice softening, more reflective, but still carrying an immense weight. "Do you remember September 11th? Those towers falling? Those firefighters, those police officers... they knew. They knew they were walking into hell, into a death trap. The press at the time spoke of voices on the radio saying, 'I won't leave them here alone.' They chose to die together, Elara. They chose to protect until the very end, even knowing they would die. But for those trapped in that building with a firefighter or a police officer by their side, I can assure you, they were less terrified of death. They didn't die alone. They didn't die in the terror of being helpless. They had a protector until the end."

He gestured vaguely with his free hand toward the city. "Those I have ordered 'removed' today, Elara, are not just enemies. They are predators. They are the shadows the world does not see, or chooses not to see. They are the ones who feed on the fragility of others, who cause unspeakable pain, who operate with total impunity. And their justice, in the manner of men, would never come. I am the last resort. I am the shadow that preys on the other shadows. That is what I seek, Elara. That is why I am theGhost. Because I understand the terror of helplessness. I can't save everyone, but I can ensure that the monsters who cause this pain pay, and that innocence has a shield, even if invisible." The conviction in his voice was palpable, almost a creed. "I take them out of the game. I undo them, and they will never know what hit them. It's a cleansing, a correction."

Elara listened, her breath catching in her throat. The brutality of his actions was clear, but the motivation, expressed with such sincerity and pain, made her shiver. He wasn't a psychopath, he wasn't a demon. He was a man who, in his own distorted and powerful perception, had become an executioner, an avenger, a silent god of war.

"And the ghost?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who is theGhost?"

A subtle smile played on Daniel's lips, a smile that held a trace of melancholy. "TheGhost," he repeated, the word seeming to dissolve into the night air. "TheGhostIt is me, and it is not me. It is the void I fill. The blank slate. Think of me as an existential anomaly. In the world of records, bureaucracy, digital identities... I do not exist. There is no passport, no bank account with my name on it, no school record, no birth certificate. I am a non-person. An echo in the void. It is my greatest weapon, and also my greatest curse.

He looked out at the vast network of city lights, and Elara sensed he was remembering something distant, something that had shaped him. "From a young age, I discovered I could move through the currents of information in a way no one else could. I could see the invisible, touch the untouchable. And I realized that true strength lies not in having a name or a face, but in having none. In being the absence, the gap that seeps through all barriers. This is how I control the threads of the global tapestry without ever appearing."

His hand tightened around hers. "TheGhostIt is the embodiment of invisibility. When I gave the order to draw a ghost on the wall... it is my calling card. It is the message to those who understand: 'I was here. I saw. I acted. And you will never see me again.' It is the terror of those who think they are safe. It is the signature of justice that the world is unwilling or unable to deliver.