THIRD PERSON’S POV:The group wasted no time, moving with calculated precision. Zee sat hunched over a bank of monitors, fingers dancing across the keyboard as lines of code scrolled across screens along with Taylor.Arthur leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the surveillance feed showing the imposing structure of Zia's base across the street. Luke tinkered with a small device on the table, his earbuds plugged in as he kept an ear on the team's communication while Jaycel was just on the side watching them.Zee muttered to herself, "Alright, I've patched into their security network. I can see the guards patrolling the perimeter."Arthur replied, "Keep an eye on the guards' patterns. We don't want any surprises."Luke nodded his head with a sighed as he mumbled, "I've got the signal jammers set up. Their comms won't be working."Meanwhile, outside the hotel, Zian smiled as he happily said it into his earpiece as he lured the guards. "Hey, have you guys heard about that new virtua

ICE’S POV:Guns were drawn, tension hung thick in the air, and it seemed like a standoff was about to erupt, but amidst the pointed weapons, only Zia and I stood without weapons, locked in a chilling gaze. With a wry smile, Zia's voice slithered forth, her words carrying a mocking tone: "Well, isn't this a cozy gathering? Traitors' offspring all grown up. What a delight."My response wasn't as amusing as hers. I fixed her with a cold stare, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Why drag me, my brother, and those who matter to me into this? What's the point of involving us in the tangled mess our parents made that wasn’t our problems in the first place?"Zia's laughter rippled, a bitter melody in the midst of the charged atmosphere. She fired back, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, come on. Did you really expect me to roll out the red carpet for you just because your parents are the culprits and it doesn’t include you?"I didn't grace her question with an immediate ans

ICE’S POV:"Mommy!" I heard History's excited voice echoing through the house, and I couldn't help but smile. I knew he, along with his dad, Iciest, and his brother, Chronicles, were eagerly waiting for me and our little angel, Legend. With a fond shake of my head, I anticipated History's imminent arrival in the room that Iciest and I shared.I glanced at my 2-year-old daughter, her vibrant violet and green eyes meeting mine. She had inherited those striking eyes from me. Gently, I dressed her in a beautiful blue dress, carefully placing a delicate white flower tiara on her head before braiding her hair. It was a marvel to think about the journey that had led to this point—after everything that had transpired, the unexpected gift of another baby had caught Iciest and me by surprise. Recollecting a past conversation with my two older children about their desire for a third sibling once their parents reunited (which, unbeknownst to me at the time, referred to me and Iciest), I had decid