روايات بقلم Purple Hyacinth

The strategy meeting lasted until dawn every member of the crew attended including the accountant who still looked confused about his life choices. It's ok bro you're not alone even Cinthye doesn't know where this is all going but all she does is trust the process. The Shadow Matriarch pointed toward a photograph in a luxury resort located in a private island heavily guarded and impossible to infiltrate. "The target?" Nicholas nodded. "Volkov financial archives." "Why there?" Cinthye asks. It's not like it's bad to ask and it's free so might as well do it rather than letting herself remain oblivious. The tracker slid another file across the table. "Because Sergei keeps records." Damien's eyes narrowed. "Everything?" "Yes, everything." Nicholas added in confirmation "We're going." The answer came immediately from Cinthye. Damien closed his eyes already exhausted. "We?" "Yes, why did you think I'll sit down and relax while you risk your lives for the documents that c

For the first time all day Cinthye laughed. A real laugh. Damien stared at her and did the same thing. His laugh was rare and beautiful. The tension broke. Just a little. Nicholas burst through the archive doors out of breath and covered in dust which was becoming concerningly normal. "What now?" The tracker looked pale. Nicholas held up a folder, a newly discovered file.One hidden beneath the adoption records. One nobody had ever seen before. His voice shook. "We found the final report." "What report?" Cinthye asks. Nicholas slowly opened the file and turned it toward them. At the top sat a photograph a photograph of Alejandro Cator standing beside another man. A man everyone recognized instantly, Sergei Volkov. Young and smiling at the camera. Brothers hand written beneath the image were four words that changed everything. PROJECT PHOENIX: SUCCESSFUL SUBJECTS Standing side by side. Not enemies. Not rivals but a family. Damien slowly took the file.His eyes scanned th

Security doors slammed shut the entire facility entered lockdown. Cinthye closed her eyes. Why had she expected anything else? The accountant looked horrified. "What happened?!"Her communicator crackled. Nicholas's voice exploded through the speaker. "IT'S A TRAP!"Well, there it was. The daily disaster right on schedule. Great!Security forces flooded the corridors boots thundered everywhere weapons appeared everywhere. Orders echoed the facility transformed into a battlefield.Cinthye grabbed the accountant. "Move.""What about subtlety?""Subtlety died.""Fair."They ran until theyr reached emergency stairwell. Heavily guarded area the entire building seemed determined to ruin her day. A familiar voice echoed through the speakers the entire facility froze including her. Because she knew that voice. "Havana."The speaker crackled again. "Hello, sister." The words hit like a bullet. Not because they were unexpected. Because they still hurt. Everything she had with them. with her ado

The first gunshot shattered the darkness, followed by a series of explosions. Screams erupted throughout the ballroom, guests scattered on each pillars where tables overturned and glass shards prickle the floor.The party instantly transformed into a battlefield."DOWN!" Damien's hand reached for Cinthye, dragging her behind a marble pillar. Bullets tore through the room. A chandelier crashed from the ceiling.Aiva immediately returned fire."Left entrance!"Nicholas fired. "Three hostiles!"Romnick ducked behind a couch. "I WOULD LIKE TO RESIGN!""No!""UNDERSTANDABLE!"Cinthye could not help herself but roll her eyes, her hand holding her own gun beneath the excess fabric of her clothes. The attackers moved with military precision.Black uniforms with masks and familiar looking insignias. The same insignia they had seen before a broken crown. The Black Crown. Cinthye's pulse accelerated. "They found us."Damien's expression turned lethal. "No."The answer came instantly. "They followe

We have your mother.The words refused to make sense, Cinthye read them again. It felt absolutely wrong. Captured? The Shadow Matriarch? The woman who survived assassinations, coups, betrayals, and wars? No, this had to be a trap. Part of their games. Absolutely unbelievable. "This is fake." Her voice states, Cinthye looked up. Damien's silence terrified her because Damien never panicked.Never, yet now—his jaw was clenched. His eyes were dark and somehow that was worse. Nicholas arrived first. "What happened?"Damien handed him the letter the tracker's face immediately drained of color. He had to ask, he had to make sure. "Is it real?"Which meant yes or probably much worse."Talk." Aurelio appeared beside them. The old man's expression grew grim after reading the note."It's her handwriting." Cinthye grabbed the paper again, inspecting the paper, the penmanship. It had to be false. She lost her once and now...? "What?" Aurelio pointed toward the signature."That's her code." "She

Cinthye climbed the final staircase and emerged onto the main courtyard. Her chest heaving yet she kept going she had to do this. This is the only way, her desperation was stronger than her fears. The sanctuary was engulfed by the flames. Part of the western wall had collapsed. Smoke rised tainting the sky. Bodies littered the ground. Warriors she had trained with, people she had laughed with and the people who had welcomed her home. Vanished in a blink of an eye. A knot formed in her throat, her hazel eyes watering up. Her hands shaking, No. Not her home. Not again. She was tired of losing homes, tired of losing people. Tired of burying the dead. Adrenaline and determination crept in her veins. Damien appeared beside her, his expression hardened immediately."Don't." His baritone voice firm as if to anchor her to the present...to him. She blinked."What?" Cinthye gave him a puzzled look. "Don't blame yourself." His hand reaching and taking her hand into his warm grasp. The words h

Ang kwento ni Vaica ay nagsimula nang tahimik, halos hindi sinasadya, sa anino ng matayog na pamana ng kanyang pamilya.Sa edad na dalawampu't lima, hindi na siya ang batang babaeng naghahasik ng mga talulot sa kasal ng kanyang mga magulang. She had grown into a woman who carried the Dela Cruz fire and the Villagracia steel in equal measure—sharp-eyed, quick-witted, and unflinchingly direct. She headed the strategic defense consulting arm of Veron, a role that demanded she move through boardrooms and classified briefings with the same grace she once used to charm her way onto her father’s shoulders.Hindi siya nakipag-date. Hindi talaga. As in.There had been polite invitations over the years—sons of tycoons, rising politicians, even a few foreign diplomats who thought charm and a private jet would be enough. Vaica always declined with the same cool smile: “Thank you, but I’m not looking.”Until Joaquin Malraux.He wasn’t supposed to be different.Joaquin was twenty-eight, a senior a

Ang oras ay nagdaan nang iba sa tahanan ng Villagracia–Veron. Hindi tahimik ang paglipas ng mga taon, kundi may layunin—sinukat sa mga milestone, tagumpay, mga sugat na tapat na tinamong, at tawa na tumunog sa mga ari-arian, boardroom, at kalangitan. Inayos ni Avern ang kanyang tayo sa shooting range, kalmado at tumpak, tulad ng lagi niyang ginagawa kapag mahalaga ang focus. “Vaica, siko sa loob. Kontrolin mo ang paghinga,” paalala niya. Si Vaica—ngayon ay dalawampu’t limang taong gulang, matikas, matalim ang mata, at walang pag-aalinlangang anak na babae niya—humugot ng dahan-dahan at binaril. Dead center ang target. Pinanood ng mga triplets nang may pagkamangha. “Cool,” bulong ni Arvo. “Gusto ko ulitin ‘yon,” sabi ni Vieno. Nakapamewang si Conrad. “Talunin ko ang score niya.” Ngumisi si Avern. “Maganda ang confidence. Mas maganda ang katumpakan.” Ibaba ni Vaica ang baril, nakangiti. “Nakakatakot ka kapag nagtuturo.” “Ganyan ka makakaligtas,” mahinang sagot ni Avern. Sa ka

Ang unang hapdi ay matalim—pero maikli lang. Katatapos lang ni Avern na ayusin ang meryenda ng mga bata nang may kakaibang init na kumalat sa pagitan ng kanyang mga hita. Natigilan siya, kumurap nang isang beses, saka dalawang beses. “Oh,” bulong niya sa sarili, mahigpit na hinawakan ang counter. Halos hindi na siya nakarating sa lababo bago siya masuka. Si Cairo, na humihuni habang naghahanda ng almusal, biglang lumingon. “Avern? Hoy—ano’ng nangyari?” “Huwag—” Itinaas niya ang kamay nang matalim, maputla ang mukha. “Huwag kang lumapit.” Natigil si Cairo sa kalagitnaan ng hakbang, nagulat. “May ginawa ba akong—” Umiling siya, hingal na humihinga, lumulon ang pagkahilo na parang alon na ayaw pumasa. “Ang amoy. Hindi ko kaya—please lang.” Agad binuksan ni Cairo ang mga bintana, pinatay ang stove, at gumalaw nang may urgency na para sa emerhensya. “Itatapon ko na. Sorry, love. Hindi ko alam.” Hindi siya sumagot. Hindi niya kaya. Sumunod ang pagkahilo—mahinahon sa una, saka matali

Ang umaga ay namulaklak na parang pangako. Ang Villagracia Estate ay naging parang mula sa alamat—mga arko ng garing na binalot ng sariwang sampaguita at rosas, kristal na chandelier na nakabitin sa ilalim ng bukas na langit, ang aisle na may linya ng mga petal na parang natapon na bituin. Puno ang bawat upuan: mga dignitaryo, mga malikhaing tao, mga lider ng negosyo, matatandang kaibigan, bagong kaalyado. Pero sa kabila ng kadakilaan, may katahimikan sa hangin na nagsasalita ng isang bagay na intimo, isang bagay na pinaghirapan. Hindi ito basta kasal. Ito ay tagumpay. Nakatayo si Cairo sa altar, magkahawak ang mga kamay sa harap, nakakagat ang panga na parang pinipigilan ang damdamin para mapabilis ang oras. Si Zapherous ay nakatayo sa tabi niya bilang best man, bumubulong ng pang-aasar sa ilalim ng hininga. “Mukhang matutumba ka na,” sabi ni Zapherous. Humugot nang nanginginig si Cairo. “Kung matumba man ako, itayo mo ako. Matagal ko nang hinihintay ‘to.” Nagbago ang musika—ma

Ang pinto ay dahan-dahang sumara sa likod namin. Walang palakpakan. Walang camera. Walang karamihan. Kami lang ni Cairo. Sa unang pagkakataon mula sa bagyo ng mga panata, headline, tawa, at luha, bumalot sa amin ang katahimikan na parang basbas. Ang suite ay naliligo sa malambot na ginintuang liwanag, dahan-dahang gumagalaw ang kurtina mula sa bukas na pinto ng balkon, dala ng gabiing simoy ang mahinang pabango ng bulaklak at pagdiriwang mula sa ibaba. Dahan-dahang lumingon sa akin si Cairo, na para bang natatakot na masira ang sandali kung masyadong mabilis ang galaw. “Asawa ko na ako,” sabi niya, halos hindi makapaniwala. Ngumiti ako, lumilipad ang puso. “Asawa ko na ako.” Mabigat ang mga salitang iyon sa pinakamabuting paraan—sagrado. Inabot niya ako, hindi nagmamadali, hindi mapag-utos—si Cairo lang, matatag at sigurado. Inilagay niya ang mga kamay sa baywang ko, hinaplos ng mga hinlalaki ang sutla ng gown ko. Inilapat niya ang noo sa akin, at nanatili kami roon, naghihigop

Ang umaga ay namulaklak na parang pangako. Ang Villagracia Estate ay naging parang mula sa alamat—mga arko ng garing na binalot ng sariwang sampaguita at rosas, kristal na chandelier na nakabitin sa ilalim ng bukas na langit, ang aisle na may linya ng mga petal na parang natapon na bituin. Puno ang bawat upuan: mga dignitaryo, mga malikhaing tao, mga lider ng negosyo, matatandang kaibigan, bagong kaalyado. Pero sa kabila ng kadakilaan, may katahimikan sa hangin na nagsasalita ng isang bagay na intimo, isang bagay na pinaghirapan. Hindi ito basta kasal. Ito ay tagumpay. Nakatayo si Cairo sa altar, magkahawak ang mga kamay sa harap, nakakagat ang panga na parang pinipigilan ang damdamin para mapabilis ang oras. Si Zapherous ay nakatayo sa tabi niya bilang best man, bumubulong ng pang-aasar sa ilalim ng hininga. “Mukhang matutumba ka na,” sabi ni Zapherous. Humugot nang nanginginig si Cairo. “Kung matumba man ako, itayo mo ako. Matagal ko nang hinihintay ‘to.” Nagbago ang musika—ma