The Los Angeles sky shimmered with neon lights as Alice stepped out of the airport. The air was warmer than Zurich, but it did nothing to thaw the coldness settling in her chest. This wasn’t just another assignment. This was a mission—an operation directly ordered by Phantom.
But for Alice, it was more than just a mission.
Aaron was here.
A sleek black car was already waiting outside. Alice walked toward it with steady steps, masking the unease that had been gnawing at her since she left Zurich. The door swung open, revealing a man in a black suit, his face void of emotion.
"Welcome to LA, Angel."
Alice slid into the car without a word. The man, one of Phantom’s operatives, wasted no time pulling out onto the road.
"The operation begins tomorrow. You’ll infiltrate the illegal trade network connected to Greenice. Recent intel suggests suspicious activity, and our primary target is inside."
Alice nodded, forcing herself to stay focused. But only one thought consumed her—Aaron.
"Who’s in this network?" she asked, her pulse inexplicably picking up speed. She had never felt this nervous before.
"Still unknown. But there’s a high chance Phoenix is involved."
Alice’s fingers curled slightly before she forced her expression to remain neutral. Phoenix. That name felt distant, as if Aaron was no longer the man she once knew, but someone entirely lost to the darkness of their past.
She turned her gaze to the cityscape beyond the car window. The streets of Los Angeles were alive with motion—cars speeding by, streetlights casting a golden glow over the towering skyscrapers. Yet, an invisible weight pressed down on her.
What if she really came face to face with Aaron?
What if her suspicions were right?
The car rolled to a stop in front of a towering hotel in the heart of the city. Alice stepped out, eyes tracing the building’s sleek, modern architecture. Inside, the grand lobby gleamed under soft lighting, the polished marble floors reflecting its glow. The city’s pulse was vibrant, yet it felt oddly distant.
The man in the suit stepped out as well, his voice clipped and professional.
"Phantom will contact you tonight with further instructions."
Alice nodded but hesitated before turning back to him.
"Can I ask for one thing?"
The man raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.
"If any of us find Phoenix first, no one touches him. I’ll deal with him myself."
The man studied her for a long moment as if trying to read something beyond her words. Then, with a sigh, he gave a curt nod.
"You know the rules, Angel. If he’s a threat, I can’t make any promises."
Alice clenched her fists, forcing down the turmoil brewing inside her.
"He’s not a threat. Not to us."
The man didn’t argue. He merely cast her a final glance before slipping back into the car. The engine hummed softly before the vehicle disappeared into the city’s neon-lit haze, leaving Alice standing alone at the hotel entrance.
Aaron.
Could she really face him again?
Alice inhaled deeply, straightened her shoulders, and stepped inside. Her movements were steady, controlled. But inside, a battle had just begun.
....
Meanwhile, somewhere else in Los Angeles…
Aaron sat in a dimly lit room, the only source of light coming from a single, low-hanging chandelier casting a weak glow over the worn wooden table. The air was thick with the scent of cigar smoke and alcohol, adding to the suffocating atmosphere pressing down on him. His hands were clenched into fists on the table’s scratched surface, his gaze fixed blankly on the aged wood beneath him.
Across from him, Victor lounged with an easy smirk, taking a slow drag from his cigar. Ash crumbled into the silver ashtray beside him.
"Starting to feel at home again, Phoenix?"
Aaron didn’t answer. He remained silent, but the tension in his jaw gave him away. He hated being here. This place was a remnant of a past he had fought to leave behind—or at least, tried to.
It was one of Greenice’s hidden headquarters. Not his grandfather’s grand estate. Not his luxurious home in Zurich. This place had no glamour, no prestige—just cold, unfeeling concrete walls, the stench of rusted metal, and the flickering hum of an old fluorescent light. It was more of a prison than a sanctuary, a reminder of what it meant to be raised in this world.
"You don’t have to look so serious. I was just wondering… when are you going to accept reality?"
Aaron finally lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Victor. "Reality?"
Victor’s smirk widened. "That you can’t run. That sooner or later, you’ll return to Greenice for good. This is our world, Aaron. The world you tried to leave, but one that will never let you go."
Aaron exhaled sharply, his disgust evident in his expression. "I have no interest in coming back."
Victor chuckled, setting his cigar down on the edge of the ashtray. "Really? The Chairman seems to think otherwise. He’s planning to bring you into Greenice Group. You’ll take his place. The media will shine their spotlight on you—you won’t be in the shadows anymore. You’ll be the new face of Greenice Group. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?"
Aaron remained silent, his grip tightening around the wine glass in his hand, though he made no move to drink. Victor watched him closely, amusement dancing in his sharp eyes.
"Why did you choose Greenice?" Aaron asked after a moment, his voice quiet but firm. "Instead of working for Greenice Group?"
Victor arched a brow, leaning back in his chair as if the question genuinely intrigued him. "The world needs balance, Phoenix. I was born for the shadows. I grew up in the streets, labeled as trash, with nothing to my name. If I wanted a place in Greenice Group, I’d need an elite education, a spotless reputation, and a talent for business. But me? I’m good at fighting, killing, and following orders. And you know as well as I do—there’s far more money in this world than there is in sitting behind a desk."
Victor let out a quiet laugh, but there was no warmth in it. His eyes gleamed with something unsettling, a twisted enjoyment in the life he had chosen.
Aaron shook his head slightly, exhaling. "It makes me sick."
Victor tilted his head. "What does?"
"The way we live under orders, selling our lives piece by piece. Don’t you ever get tired of it? I know you make good money, you own mansions, cars, everything you could possibly buy. But do you even enjoy any of it?"
Victor’s smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second. Then, it returned—more mocking than before.
"Who the hell made you this talkative?" he sneered.
Aaron didn’t answer. He wouldn’t give Victor the satisfaction.
Victor leaned forward, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "You can keep denying it, but this world isn’t going to let you go so easily. You are Phoenix. And whether you like it or not, you belong to us."
Aaron’s fists clenched tighter, his expression unreadable.
"Even if you take a position at Greenice Group, you’ll still be a part of this. The Chairman will make sure of that."
Aaron said nothing, but his mind was already working through every possible scenario. He knew Victor wasn’t wrong. His grandfather was not the kind of man to let go of control. If he had decided Aaron would take over Greenice Group, there had to be a deeper agenda behind it.
Victor picked up his cigar again, taking a slow drag before blowing out a thin stream of smoke. "There’s something you need to keep an eye on tomorrow."
Aaron’s gaze sharpened. "What?"
"We’re meeting with the leader of a cartel. They’re looking to buy a vehicle hacking system. Make sure no one outside the operation gets wind of it."
Aaron’s jaw tightened. This was worse than he had expected. Greenice’s technology wasn’t just falling into the wrong hands—it was actively being traded for something even more dangerous.
Victor watched him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Still think you can walk away from all of this?"
Aaron met his gaze, his voice quiet but unwavering. "I won’t be their puppet."
Victor let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "We’ll see about that."
Silence fell over the room once more, the only sound the slow ticking of the clock on the wall. Aaron sat there, his mind calculating his next move, knowing that if he wanted out, he would have to find a way—
Before it was too late.