Exodus Gamble

The doors hissed open.

Ava Lyn strode in first—sharp, fluid, every movement laced with tension. A laptop clutched in her hand, her grip tight, her knuckles white. The glow of the screen flickered against her sharp cheekbones, casting a cold light over her narrowed eyes.

Behind her, James followed.

The controller of Phoenix Tower. The man who kept Kael's empire in motion. Unlike Ava, his steps were slower, measured—but the weight of his presence pressed into the room like an incoming storm.

His dark suit was crisp, his expression unreadable.

Ava barely looked at them.

Her focus locked onto Leah—bruised, bloodied, standing but barely.

Her entire stance shifted. The smirk she'd carried walking in—gone. Her eyes, always sharp, went dangerous.

"Shit." Her voice, edged with barely-contained fury. "You look like hell."

Leah exhaled, wincing as she rolled her shoulder. "I feel worse."

Ava's jaw flexed.

Then, her eyes snapped to Kael. Cold. Sharper than a blade.

"So." Her voice was clipped, biting. "Was all this necessary, or do you just like breaking people for fun?"

Kael didn't blink.

Didn't shift.

Didn't flinch.

His silver gaze was pure iron.

"It was necessary."

Ava's smile returned—thin, sharp, made of glass. "Uh-huh."

Her gaze raked over him. Calculating. Not impressed.

Then, with all the casual ruthlessness of someone who didn't give a damn who he was—

"So, Mr. Billionaire-General—" her voice quickened, all sharp angles and cutting wit, "What's the play? You gonna scowl us to Mars, or do you actually have a plan?"

Kael's voice was absolute. Cold.

"That depends entirely on you."

Ava's brows lifted. "Me?"

His silver gaze didn't flicker.

"What can you do?"

Ava grinned.

Fast. Sharp. Unapologetic.

"What can I do?" she echoed, voice turning sly.

Her fingers cracked.

And then—

Her hand shot out, slamming her laptop onto the nearest console.

The lights dimmed.

The main screen flickered.

The security feeds scrambled into static with a sharp, electronic whine.

The air pulsed.

A sudden shift in the room's balance.

Ava didn't even look at Kael.

Her fingers flew across the holographic interface, her voice smooth and ruthless:

"Tracking? I erase it. Surveillance? I own it. Communications? Compromised."

The security alarms? Silent.

The system locks? Bypassed.

The room was hers.

Kael's eyes narrowed.

His voice—low. Measured. Cutting.

"Cute."

Ava flashed a grin, still focused on the screen.

"If anyone so much as blinks at this network—" she flicked her fingers, and a cascade of false data flooded the system— "They'll be chasing ghosts for weeks."

The console hummed.

An entire security grid folded beneath her will.

Ava's fingers stilled.

She turned, her eyes bright and deadly.

"So. That's what I can do."

The silence stretched.

Kael's voice, low and calculating:

"Efficient."

Ava's smile turned wicked.

"Fast, too."

His silver gaze, cold and dissecting:

"But can you keep up under pressure?"

Ava's grin widened.

And her voice—edged, electric—

"Sweetheart, pressure makes diamonds."

Kael's gaze flickered.

Something coldly satisfied.

"Good," he murmured. "Because we don't have time for anything less."

Ava's arms crossed.

Her stance, easy. But her eyes? Razor-sharp.

"So, General." Her voice curled with bite. "Tell me what you need."

Kael's jaw set.

His voice, clipped, absolute.

"I need you to break into the Ark 0 auction feed."

His eyes burned.

"I want every bidder, every backer, and every leak in their system. I need to know who we're up against before they even see us coming."

Ava's lips curled into something feral.

"Stealing from the military?" Her voice dropped into something sly, dangerous.

"My favorite game."

But Kael's voice—cold, cutting—came next.

Sharp. Loaded.

"And while you're at it—"

His silver eyes pinned her, cold and razor-sharp—

"Dig into Leah's DNA profile."

Leah's breath hitched.

Her spine snapped straight.

"What?"

Her voice cracked with raw edge, heat flashing in her eyes.

"Why the hell—"

Kael's voice—low, cutting through her protest:

"Because I don't buy coincidences."

His gaze was cold fire.

"Not a 91% match. Not your little trick surviving the break. Someone—somewhere—buried the truth about your bloodline."

Ava's eyes narrowed.

Her fingers flicked through the interface, windows cascading with encrypted records.

"You think her profile's been scrubbed?"

Kael's jaw tightened.

"I think someone's been lying."

His voice, soft and lethal:

"I want to know who."

Ava's fingers flew.

Code breaking under her touch.

Firewalls folding like paper.

"Well," she muttered, eyes burning through the streams, "Let's see what they tried to bury."

The feed hit a wall.

Military-grade. Encrypted. Red warning flaring.

Ava's eyes sparked.

Her grin—razor-sharp.

"Cute."

She cracked her knuckles.

"But you don't get to lock me out."

She hit hard—algorithms crashing into the block.

The system groaned, codes folding—

And then—

A breach.

The screen shifted.

The file unfolded.

SUBJECT 021: L. MÓU – GENETIC LINEAGE ANALYSIS

Ava's eyes flicked.

Reading—then—

Froze.

Her voice, tight. Sharpened.

"Oh."

Leah's chest clenched.

"What—"

Kael's gaze sliced to Ava.

His voice—low, cold, sharp as a blade.

"Talk."

Ava's voice—low and thin:

"They didn't just scrub her profile."

A pause.

Then—her voice dropped:

"They sealed it."

Leah's breath caught.

Ava's eyes burned.

And then—

The name flashed on the screen.

PARENTAL GENETIC CONTRIBUTOR 001: K. REI MÓU

—CLASSIFIED ALPHA EXPERIMENT 01A—

Leah's body went still.

The world tilted.

Her voice—barely a breath.

"Rei…?"

Kael's voice—low. Cold.

"Who. Is Rei Móu?"

Leah's throat tightened.

Her voice—hoarse, shattered.

"My… mother."

The silence was a blade.

Voss didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Didn't breathe.

But Leah felt it—the shift. The split-second tightening in his frame, the flicker of something raw behind his silver gaze.

Not surprise.

Not confusion.

Recognition.

And that?

That was worse.

Ava's fingers blurred over the console, but her focus had fractured.

She wasn't just hacking anymore—she was digging.

Unraveling something ugly, something buried.

The screen was a mess of cascading files, redacted documents, and half-broken encryption. Fragments of data bled across the interface.

Each line a bullet.

Each discovery a wound.

James stepped forward, his voice low, controlled.

"That name."

His eyes flicked to Leah, then to Voss, his fingers already pulling up an auxiliary feed, securing the breach before alarms tripped.

"It was erased from the system decades ago. Someone wanted it gone."

His tone was even, but weighted.

James wasn't a man who wasted words. And right now? He was calculating.

Tracking every angle. Every threat.

Voss didn't respond.

Not to James. Not to Ava.

His gaze was locked on Leah.

His expression, a mask of cold precision.

But the tension in his jaw? The flicker behind his eyes?

Something was cracking.

Leah's voice cut through the room.

"You knew."

Not a question.

A statement.

Voss's fingers curled against the console. A slow, deliberate movement.

"I didn't."

Leah laughed.

Cold. Sharp. Disbelieving.

"Bullshit."

Her breath was coming fast now, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Too much. Too fast. The walls felt too close, the air too thin.

She pointed at the screen—at the name glowing like a damn ghost from the past.

"My mother was one of your father's experiments, and you expect me to believe you didn't know?"

Voss's voice was even. Cold. But not dismissive.

"I didn't know about her."

Leah's chest burned.

Her fists clenched.

"But you knew about the program."

Voss didn't deny it.

His silver gaze held hers, unwavering.

"I knew."

James exhaled through his nose. "Well, that's a fucking problem."

Ava barely spared him a glance, her fingers moving too fast for the human eye.

"No kidding."

Her voice was sharp, but her hands were ruthless.

She cracked into another layer of encryption, bypassing the final security walls—

And the last classified file dropped onto the screen.

PROJECT 01A: OMEGA-PHORE TRIAL

GOAL: Omega Gene Viability in Alpha Class

RESULT: CROSS-BREEDING POTENTIAL WITH OMEGA CARRIERS — STATUS: INHERITED MARKERS CONFIRMED

The words sat there, staring back at them.

Ava exhaled, low and slow.

Then, her voice flat, clipped, but edged with something dangerous.

"Leah."

She didn't look away from the screen.

"Your genes—" Ava's voice dipped, flicking through the markers, "—are Alpha-line."

Her eyes lifted—burning, sharp.

"But Omega-coded."

Voss's head tilted, just slightly.

His gaze flicked back to the data. A slow inhale.

Leah felt the moment he put it together.

The way his expression shifted—fractionally.

Not shock.

Not disbelief.

But understanding.

Like the final piece of a puzzle he hadn't even realized he was solving.

His voice—low, razor-sharp.

"You aren't incompatible."

A flicker of something dark crossed his face.

"You're one of a kind."

Leah's breath shook.

But she held his gaze.

Her voice, hoarse, iron-willed:

"Then why the hell did every Alpha reject me?"

Ava's fingers stilled.

Her voice, dark, sharp, and cutting:

"Because they weren't made to handle you."

And then—

The final sequence hit.

The last line—freed from the dark.

COMPATIBLE CANDIDATES – GEN 2 ALPHA CROSSMATCH:

AUTHORIZED SUBJECT: K. ORION VOSS – PROJECT 'LANCER'

The silence stretched, thick as iron.

Ava's fingers hovered over the console, the screen still glowing with the raw, brutal truth they'd just unearthed.

Leah felt it—the weight of it.

It wasn't just her mother.

It wasn't just her.

It was him.

Kael Orion Voss.

He hadn't moved.

Hadn't reacted.

But the air around him had changed.

Gone heavier. Sharper.

Like something old and dangerous was trying to crawl out from behind his ribs.

And when he finally spoke, his voice was low. Controlled. Unforgiving.

"The project was terminated."

Leah's pulse jumped.

Her fingers curled into fists.

Her voice, rough and edged with something raw:

"Why?"

Kael exhaled—slow, measured.

His silver gaze flicked to the screen again. To the old, buried records.

And then—

Back to her.

"Because my father lost his backing."

Ava swore, voice sharp. "Lost it? That bastard was the Alpha program."

James, ever the calm center of a storm, leaned slightly against the table, his expression unreadable.

"Which means someone cut him loose."

Kael's jaw flexed, but he nodded once.

"It was always about control. The moment they lost it—" his voice dipped, cold, absolute, "—they cut their losses."

Leah's heart pounded.

"You knew."

Kael's gaze snapped back to her.

Not sharp. Not aggressive.

But assessing.

And then, low, precise:

"I never met your mother."

Leah's breath hitched.

She shouldn't have felt anything at those words.

Shouldn't have expected anything.

But still.

It was like a fist tightening in her chest.

Kael continued, even, stripped-down.

"But I met others."

The words landed heavy.

And Leah knew—he wasn't talking about other Omegas.

Ava leaned forward, her hands braced against the table. "How many?"

Kael's voice dropped.

"Enough."

A beat.

A breath.

And then—

"But none of them worked."

Leah's eyes narrowed. "Worked?"

Kael's silver gaze locked onto hers.

Something dark flickering behind them.

Something like understanding.

And then, soft. Precise.

"I wasn't the only one."

Ava's laptop chirped, pulling up more records.

The feed blurred—more profiles. Three more.

James, scanning the screen, exhaled. "They ran parallel projects."

Leah's throat went tight.

She scanned the profiles, her pulse spiking.

Three other Alphas.

All of them with high DND markers.

All of them designed for compatibility.

And all of them—

Failures.

Kael's voice cut through the haze.

"We didn't respond to just any Omega."

His gaze flicked back to Leah.

Something cold. Unshakable.

"That made us difficult to control."

Leah stilled.

Her heart hammering against her ribs.

Ava's brows pulled together. "So what, they just—gave up?"

Kael's expression didn't change.

"No."

His voice dipped, something lower, sharper.

"They went a different route."

The screen flickered again.

New files. New paths.

Three Alphas.

Each one granted wealth. Power. A controlled rise into business, trade, and industry.

A carefully engineered reward system.

Leah's fingers clenched.

Her voice, cold. Calculating.

"That's why you're rich."

Kael didn't deny it.

"They put us in the one system they could control."

James exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "So instead of forcing bonds, they threw you into business."

Ava let out a low whistle. "Damn. So they turned you into assets instead of soldiers."

Kael's voice stayed even.

"It was never about us. It was about the investment."

Leah's jaw tightened.

Her voice like glass.

"And you just—played along?"

Kael's silver gaze locked onto her.

"I played the game."

A breath.

A pause.

And then, soft.

"Until I didn't."

Leah's stomach twisted.

Her breath, sharp.

Her mind racing.

She looked at the files. At the past staring back at her.

And for the first time—

She realized something.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

She wasn't supposed to have lived.

Her mother was supposed to die, her genetics were supposed to be erased.

And Kael?

He was supposed to be someone else's weapon.

Instead, they had both been discarded.

And now?

Now they were the last two standing.

Leah's breath shook.

She looked at Kael.

And for the first time—

She didn't see a billionaire.

She didn't see an Alpha.

She saw what he was supposed to be.

And what he chose instead.