The letter burned in my pocket like a ticking bomb.
A new enemy. A new player.
Someone I had never faced in my previous life.
Someone I knew nothing about.
The seal on the envelope was unfamiliar—a black phoenix entangled with serpentine thorns, a symbol I had never encountered. It wasn't one of the five major families, nor any of the smaller syndicates I had tangled with before.
I sat alone in Father's study, turning the letter over and over in my hand. The fire crackled softly beside me, but the warmth couldn't chase away the cold knot forming in my chest.
I had changed so much.
I had rewritten so many threads.
Was this the universe's punishment? Or simply the cost of my interference?
I unfolded the letter.
"Gabriel De Luca, the tides you've shifted ripple farther than you can imagine.
You've saved your father, dethroned your stepmother, and reshaped destinies.
But you've awoken me.
And I will collect what you owe."
There was no name. No signature. Only a time.
Midnight. Two days from now. Warehouse 17.
I could feel it—the beginning of something much larger than Maria's schemes.
I folded the letter carefully, sliding it into the drawer beneath Father's desk.
This wasn't just about the family anymore.
Someone was watching me. Someone who knew I didn't belong in this timeline.
The next morning, Leonard found me in the training yard, gloves on, pounding relentlessly into the punching bag. Sweat dripped from my brow, but I didn't stop.
"You're pushing too hard," Leonard called out.
"Good," I grunted, landing another brutal punch. "I need to."
He frowned, approaching with cautious steps. "What's wrong?"
I didn't answer immediately. How could I tell him that there were shadows even I couldn't predict now?
He grabbed a towel, tossing it to me. "Is it Mother? Did she try something again?"
"No. This is bigger."
"Then let me help."
I wiped my face, breathing heavily. "I need you to stay focused on the family businesses. Cover me while I handle this."
Leonard's jaw tensed. "No. Not this time. I'm not a child anymore. I can fight beside you."
He wasn't wrong. I had trained him for this.
I nodded slowly. "Then we move together."
Over the next two days, I put my network to work. I called in favors, bribed low-level informants, and shook every corner of the underworld looking for traces of the black phoenix.
But there was nothing.
No whispers.
No old records.
No connections.
It was as if this enemy had risen from thin air.
I met with my most trusted ally, Marco—the man who had been like a shadow to me since I began rewriting my fate.
"This is bad," Marco muttered, flipping the sealed envelope in his hand. "I've never seen this crest."
"Neither have I," I admitted.
Marco tapped his fingers on the table. "What if… they know?"
I froze. "Know what?"
He met my gaze directly. "That you've changed something. That you don't belong here."
The thought had crossed my mind, but hearing it aloud made it real.
"Impossible," I whispered, more to myself.
Marco leaned in. "Nothing's impossible anymore."
The night of the meeting came quickly.
Leonard and I arrived at Warehouse 17, flanked by four of our most trusted men. The air was heavy with rain, thick clouds rolling low across the sky. Every instinct in me screamed that this was a trap.
But I had no choice but to walk into it.
The warehouse was dimly lit, its metal walls creaking in the wind. I scanned every corner as we stepped inside.
There was no one. Just an old wooden chair in the center of the room.
And on that chair—another letter.
I approached cautiously, ignoring Leonard's tense whisper to wait.
I picked up the envelope, tore it open, and read the single sentence written in neat, elegant handwriting.
"How far will you go to save a future that does not belong to you?"
A sharp click echoed through the warehouse.
Snipers.
"DOWN!" I shouted, tackling Leonard as bullets rained from the rafters.
My men fired back, but it was an ambush from the start. They weren't here to kill me—they were here to test me.
A warning.
Leonard and I ducked behind a stack of crates, our breaths ragged.
"This is a message," I growled. "They want me to know they can reach me anywhere."
Leonard's hands trembled slightly, but his voice was steady. "Then we hit them back. Harder."
I smiled grimly. "Exactly."
The next few days became a war of shadows.
Anonymous attacks struck our supply routes. Deals I had carefully constructed over months were dismantled overnight by faceless forces. Men I thought were loyal began to question their positions.
Whoever this enemy was—they were efficient, silent, and always two steps ahead.
Leonard and I barely slept.
Every time we patched a hole, another leak appeared elsewhere.
Maria's games had been brutal, but predictable. This was different.
This was personal.
One night, as I sat on the rooftop overlooking the city, Marco joined me.
"We have a name," he said, sliding a file across the table.
I opened it.
Lucian Graves.
A man with no known past, no listed affiliations. A ghost.
But in the underground, his alias whispered like a curse: The Architect.
I closed the file slowly. "The Architect builds empires. But he also knows how to destroy them."
Marco nodded grimly. "And he's chosen to destroy yours."
Leonard and I tracked Lucian's movements relentlessly. Every step forward cost us resources, men, and hard-earned trust. But we didn't stop.
When we finally cornered one of his lieutenants, I made sure to ask only one question: Why?
His answer chilled me.
"Because you weren't supposed to survive the first time."
The first time.
They knew.
They knew I had come back.
Before I could press further, a sniper's bullet silenced him.
Panic clawed at me.
How could they know? How could anyone remember the life I had left behind?
Was this punishment from the universe? Or had someone else been given the same gift—and now sought to correct the balance?
I stared at the blood pooling at my feet, the echoes of the lieutenant's final words repeating in my mind.
"You weren't supposed to survive…"
I doubled security around Leonard. I called in debts I had sworn never to collect. I reached out to enemies I had once despised, forming uneasy alliances.
Every step I took was now a race against an invisible clock.
Leonard knew I was hiding something, but he didn't push. He simply fought beside me, never leaving my side.
But I saw the questions in his eyes.
I saw the fear.
I finally faced Lucian in a derelict cathedral, the stained glass shattered, the pews rotting from rain.
He stood at the altar, calm, hands clasped behind his back.
"You've changed everything, Gabriel," he said, his voice like velvet over steel. "But fate… fate is a stubborn beast."
I approached carefully, my gun drawn. "Why me? Why now?"
Lucian's lips curved into a cold smile. "Because when one life rewrites its path… another must be erased."
I aimed at his chest. "Not Leonard."
His smile widened. "Of course Leonard. He was your turning point, wasn't he? The one who betrayed you."
I stiffened.
He knew.
Lucian's gaze pierced through me. "Tell me, Gabriel. If you could go back again… would you still save him?"
Without hesitation, I answered, "Yes."
"Even knowing the cost?"
"Yes."
Lucian nodded as if satisfied. "Then let's see how far you'll go to protect him."
He vanished into the shadows before I could fire.
The war escalated. Leonard was targeted relentlessly, and I realized something I hadn't before—the future was no longer written. I had forged a new path, but so had Lucian.
We were rewriting the story simultaneously, two authors in the same book, both refusing to drop the pen.
Lucian sent me one final message.
This city isn't big enough for both of us, Gabriel. One of us will fade. The other will remain.
The challenge was set.
And I would fight for Leonard until my last breath.