The Watchful Eyes
HARDIN'S POV
The private room was dimly lit, tucked at the back of a quiet restaurant in Midtown that prided itself on discretion. No cameras. No prying eyes. Just mahogany panels, low-hanging pendant lights, and the sharp aroma of aged whiskey lingering in the air.
I arrived first.
The hostess didn’t ask questions when I mentioned the name on the reservation. Just nodded and led me back with the kind of smooth efficiency you paid for. The kind that meant silence came standard.
I settled into a leather booth, back to the wall, eyes on the door. Old habits.
The door clicked open five minutes later, and in walked Levi Jordy.
My investigator.
He was dressed like a man who wanted to disappear: charcoal coat, dark jeans, a shirt so forgettable you could stare at it for an hour and not remember the color. His eyes, though—they were sharp. Watchful. The kind of eyes that had seen things you wouldn’t dare imagine.
He didn’t sit right away. He looked around the room like it might bite him.
"You alone?" he asked.
"Always."
Only then did he slide into the seat across from me.
"You said it was urgent."
"It is."
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I reached into my coat and slid a manila envelope across the table. Inside: a printed image of the blueprint from the flash drive. Project Seraphim: Phase Two.
He took it in silence, eyes scanning every corner of the paper like it might explode. Then he flipped it, frowned, and looked back up.
"Where did you get this?"
"It was buried in a flash drive given to me by someone named Elena. She’s off the grid now. I need you to find her. But first... I need to know everything about this. The institute. The project. Phase One. Phase Two. All of it."
Levi's brows lifted slightly. That meant something. A reaction from him was rare.
"Seraphim," he repeated. "I’ve heard the name before. Rumors mostly. But if there’s a Phase Two... it means Phase One was completed. And if they buried this deep, it wasn’t public. It was classified. Possibly illegal."
I nodded. "And connected to my family."
He leaned back. "You’re sure?"
"No. That’s why I need you to find out. Look into any institutes connected to Richards Corporation. Cross-reference with medical grants, private military contracts. Use your off-book channels. Pull every string you need."
Levi whistled low. "You don’t want much, do you?"
"I want the truth."
He didn’t argue.
For a moment, silence stretched between us, filled only by the muffled clatter of dishes and soft music drifting in from the main dining room. Then Levi reached into his coat and pulled out a small notebook.
"Elena. Any last name?"
"No. Just the name. She brought the drive to my office."
He scribbled a note, then tucked the notebook away.
"Alright. I’ll dig. But Hardin... if this is what I think it is, you’re not just poking a hornet’s nest. You’re setting it on fire."
I met his gaze. "Then I’ll bring the gasoline."
He smiled faintly, then stood and offered his hand.
"I’ll be in touch."
We shook. A brief, firm grip. No words wasted.
He left first, as we agreed. I waited another five minutes. Checked my phone. No new messages. No updates from Vera.
I finally stood, adjusted my coat, and left through the back exit.
The air was brisk, scraping across my skin like warning breath. My car was parked just around the corner—a sleek black Aston Martin with tinted windows and a custom engine that purred like a lion at rest.
I walked slowly, not out of caution but calculation. I needed to think.
What the hell was Project Seraphim?
And why was I only finding out about it now?
I know my family kept many secrets. Affairs. Shell companies. Dirty investments buried under polished boardroom smiles. But this... this felt different. Bigger. Older.
A storm was coming. I could feel it in my bones.
Just as I reached for the handle of my car door, I felt it.
Eyes.
Not the usual kind. Not the camera lenses or curious onlookers. These were different. Focused. Intentional.
I glanced around slowly. At first, I saw nothing. Just the quiet of a side street, dimly lit, the only sound the hum of distant traffic.
But then I saw it.
A car parked three spaces behind mine.
Black.
Tinted windows.
Engine running.
Nothing unusual on the surface. But something about it scraped against instinct. A gut feeling honed from years of navigating boardrooms and betrayal.
I took a step closer. The window rolled down—just a crack.
Enough to see the glint of something. A ring? A watch? Eyes?
I couldn’t tell. But I knew they were watching me.
And then the car peeled away.
No license plate I could catch. No brake lights. Just gone.
I stared after it for a beat longer than I meant to, jaw clenched.
This wasn’t the media.
Was it connected to Elena? To the project?
Or was it Andrew?
I didn’t have answers. Not yet.
But someone was watching.
And they wanted me to know it.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and sat for a long moment with the engine off.
The city pulsed around me. Horns. Voices. The heartbeat of power.
And somewhere beneath it all... something darker. Moving. Waiting.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Vera.
She answered on the first ring.
"Talk to me."
"Tell me you’ve got something."
"Not yet. The name Elena triggers a dozen hits, none solid. But Levi’s your best bet."
"He’s on it. I need you to do something else."
"Name it."
"Track down every black-ops project Richards Corp funded in the last ten years. I want everything with off-book budgets, shadow contracts, or third-party shell partners."
"That’s a tall order."
"Then climb fast. We’re running out of time."
She hesitated, then said, "Something happen?"
I looked down the empty street.
"Just a feeling."
"You always trust your feelings."
"That’s why I’m still standing."
"Okay. I’ll get you what I can. Be careful, Hardin."
I ended the call.
The city didn’t stop.
Neither did I.
Whatever Project Seraphim was... it had roots. Deep ones. Twisted through my family, the company, the power structure we were supposed to protect.
Someone had gone to great lengths to keep it buried.
But now?
Now it was rising.
And so was I.
I wasn’t born to inherit power.
I was born to take it.
With fire if I had to.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
