The underground garage stayed dark for a long, suffocating moment.
Only the slow, methodical hum of the Hypersport's engine filled the silence, like a heartbeat refusing to die.
Elian stared at the iron chain on the ground.
It seemed to pulse, almost alive, mocking him.
Beside him, Sophie was crying silently.
Tears ran down her pale cheeks, her body shivering under the thin hoodie she wore.
"Elian," she whispered, her voice breaking. "We shouldn't be here. We need to leave."
He didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Inside him, something deeper was breaking.
Not like the many times he had been laughed at.
Not like the bullying, the insults, the loneliness.
This was worse.
This was betrayal by the universe itself.
Elian bent down slowly, picking up the heavy chain.
It was freezing cold, the weight dragging down his fingers.
Am I truly just a chained beast to them? he thought.
He wrapped the chain around his forearm silently.
"If I'm a beast," he muttered to himself, "then I'll be the beast they fear."
---
The Hypersport's AI, Ava, flickered back online.
"Mr. Frost," her voice came soft, almost tender, "please proceed to Level 2 for further orientation. The enemies have already been dispatched."
Elian didn't move for a second.
Then he helped Sophie into the passenger seat again.
As he pulled out of the underground garage, the steel doors sealed behind him with a deafening boom, cutting him off forever from the life he had once known.
---
Level 2 wasn't what Elian expected.
It was a towering skyscraper hidden in plain sight within the city — no windows, no signs, just a tall black monolith reaching toward the cloudy sky.
Security drones scanned him as he entered.
Sophie clung to his side, her wide brown eyes taking in everything like a terrified kitten.
The elevator shot up, so fast it made their stomachs lurch.
Floor after floor zipped by until they stopped at the 77th.
The doors opened to reveal an immense, luxurious lounge—golden chandeliers, velvet couches, and thick marble floors.
And waiting for him was an army.
Not with guns or swords.
But with pens, contracts, tablets, and cold, calculating smiles.
Men and women in dark suits and crimson ties.
One of them, a short woman with platinum hair and sharp gray eyes, stepped forward.
"Welcome, Mr. Frost," she said crisply. "My name is Meredith Vance.
I'll be overseeing your... integration."
"Integration into what?" Elian asked warily.
"The Frost Dynasty," she said, smiling like a cobra.
"You are the heir, Elian. The sole inheritor of the Frost fortune, property, and enterprises. Congratulations."
The room burst into polite applause.
It sounded like knives tapping on glass.
---
Meredith motioned to the table, where thick leather-bound books and gold-plated pens waited.
"Of course, we will require your immediate signatures," she added sweetly.
Sophie squeezed Elian's hand, and he looked down at her.
She was shaking her head furiously.
Don't trust them, her eyes screamed.
Elian's throat tightened.
He remembered Cain's words: Whose dog will you be?
Signing meant power, money, control beyond imagination.
But it also meant chains — ones even heavier than the iron he carried now.
He straightened his back and spoke, voice icy and clear.
"I'll read everything first."
Meredith's smile didn't falter, but her eyes sharpened.
"Of course," she said.
"Every word," Elian added.
He dragged a thick contract toward him and began flipping through.
The pages were traps—legal labyrinths designed to entrap him.
Conditions. Clauses. Obedience. Silence. Loyalty.
At the very end, a line in tiny, almost invisible letters:
> Failure to comply will result in retrieval operations, including but not limited to psychological and physical reconditioning.
Sophie gasped when she saw it.
Elian's hands trembled slightly—but he didn't show fear.
He closed the book calmly.
Then he smiled for the first time in days.
It wasn't a kind smile.
It was sharp, broken, and terrifying.
"I'm not signing," he said.
The entire room froze.
A beat.
Two.
Meredith's fake smile cracked slightly at the edges.
"I don't think you understand the gravity of—"
"I understand perfectly," Elian interrupted, his voice cutting like a blade.
"You want a pawn.
I'm not your pawn."
Gasps rippled through the room.
Meredith's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Very well," she hissed.
She snapped her fingers.
The velvet walls behind her shimmered—and dozens of armed guards emerged from the shadows, rifles raised.
Sophie screamed.
Elian simply smiled wider.
"You're going to kill me in your own tower?" he asked mockingly. "What will your bosses say?"
Meredith hesitated.
Elian took a step forward.
"I'm not chained anymore," he said. His voice was soft, but every syllable was pure steel. "And if you come for me... you'd better kill me."
Because if you don't...
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
It hung heavy in the marble air, colder than any bullet.
Meredith studied him for a long, simmering moment.
Then she motioned to the guards to lower their weapons.
"You're reckless," she said coldly.
"No," Elian corrected. "I'm free."
He turned his back on her without hesitation, taking Sophie's hand.
As the elevator doors closed behind them, Sophie burst into sobs.
Elian held her tightly, his heart breaking all over again.
He hadn't won.
Not really.
He had just declared war.
Against enemies he couldn't even see yet.
Enemies who owned the city, the police, the news stations, the campuses, the companies...
Enemies who had already decided he should be dead.
The elevator descended, and Elian stared at his reflection in the polished metal doors.
He didn't recognize the boy staring back.
---