Chapter 147 – The First Attack
James Barnett's car hummed along the quiet stretch of highway just outside Geneva. Darkness enveloped the landscape, broken only by the streaks of headlights cutting through the night. He should have felt relief-he had survived Dominic's games, exposed fragments of his twin's machinations-but unease gripped him like iron.
For weeks, he had sensed a presence shadowing him. Footsteps in empty corridors, flashes in reflective glass, a fleeting shadow in every city. Tonight, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone wanted him gone.
He checked the rearview mirror instinctively. No tail. But the hairs on the back of his neck stood.
As he approached a curve, James' phone buzzed violently against the passenger seat. He glanced down-a message popped up from an unknown number:
"Turn back. Or this ends tonight."
The message was gone almost as soon as it appeared. James' grip on the wheel tightened. His pulse raced. Someone had breached his communications-a breach he hadn't anticipated.
The highway curved sharply, slick with rain from a storm earlier in the evening. James took the turn cautiously, but in his peripheral vision, he saw headlights converging at unnatural speed behind him.
A shadowed vehicle bore down, weaving dangerously. James' heart thudded. "Not tonight," he muttered, pressing the accelerator to escape the unknown threat.
A sudden impact-the car jolted violently. Glass shattered. Metal screamed. James slammed his hands on the wheel as the vehicle spun out of control, skidding across the wet asphalt. Time slowed: the roar of the engine, the screeching of tires, the smell of burning rubber.
Then darkness.
He woke hours later in a hospital room. Pain seared through his side, his head throbbing with a rhythm that matched his racing heartbeat. Machines beeped steadily. The nurse's face swam into view, her expression grim.
"You're lucky to be alive," she said. "The car was mangled. The other vehicle... it didn't stop."
James' mind raced. This wasn't an accident. Someone had wanted him dead. But who? And why now?
Even from the hospital bed, James felt the gears turning in his mind. He reviewed every recent encounter with Dominic Reyes. Each subtle threat, every cryptic message-it was all leading to this moment.
His phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a threat-it was a single image.
A photo of his mangled car, taken moments after the crash. And in the corner, barely visible, a familiar figure: Dominic Reyes, watching from the shadows.
James clenched his jaw. Dominic wasn't just a rival; he was a predator, one step ahead, orchestrating chaos while James struggled to piece together his fractured memories.
The nurse came back into the room, and James realized the hospital itself might not be safe. He needed to move, to strategize, to fight.
A shadow fell across the window. James turned sharply-and there, outside, a figure in black lingered, staring straight at him. Not Dominic. Someone else. Someone who had been pulling strings behind the scenes all along.
