"My mother's mother. Margaret Chen." I'm shaking now, something cold spreading through my chest. "She died when I was young. Before my mother. I barely remember her. But that name..."
Jagger takes a paper from Jinx, one listing the Custodian lines involved. "Margaret Chen. Custodian seat holder from 1985 to 2019. Deceased. Heir: Deceased. No living viable seat holders.."
"She was a Custodian?" The words don't make sense. Can't make sense. "My grandmother was part of this?"
"It's possible the name is a coincidence—"
"It's not." I know it's not. I can feel it in my bones, in the memories that have been slowly returning. Fragments. Pieces. My mother's face when I asked about when grandma andgrandpa were coming to visit again. The way she changed the subject. The fear in her eyes.
"She knew," I whisper. "My mother knew. That's why she never talked about her family. That's why she was so careful about what she told me."
"Jonah—"
"That's why they targeted me." The realization hits like a second bullet. "I wasn't just a journalist who got too close. I was a loose end. Margaret Chen's grandson, digging into Project Omega. They didn't just want to silence me. They wanted to erase any connection between the program and her family."
Jagger's grip on my arm tightens. "We don't know that for certain."
"Don't we?" I laugh, and it sounds bitter even to my own ears. "My grandmother helped fund the program that manufactured you and when her grandson started asking questions, they erased his mind rather than let him expose the family connection."
"That doesn't mean—"
"It means everything." I pull away from him, ignoring the pain in my side. "It means I wasn't just collateral damage. I was targeted. Specifically. Because of who I am."
The room is quiet. Everyone is watching me, waiting to see what I'll do. What I'll become, now that I know the truth.
The truth hits me. She never wanted me to take up her mantle, so they tried destroying me instead. Not that I’d want any part in this, that much she must have known. But to try andscoop who I am out of my body? That’s fucking cold. I pick up the stack of documents. Flip through them with shaking hands. Financial records. Meeting minutes. Correspondence between Custodians discussing the "viability of Phase Two initiatives."
My grandmother's signature is on a dozen pages. Authorizing funds. Approving procedures. Signing off on the creation of children.
"Jonah." Jagger's voice is careful. Gentle. "Whatever she did, it's not your fault. You're not responsible for her choices."
"No. But I'm responsible for what I do with this information." I set down the documents. Meet his eyes. "We have everything we need now. Names. Evidence. Proof of what they did and who authorized it."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we finish this." My voice is steady now. Cold. "Victor Harrington is still alive. Still part of the system. We expose him. We take the board. I am a Chen, a rightful heir to a seat, which means I can claim it once this is all said and done.”
Jagger looks at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nods.
"Fuck it’s hot when you talk like that," he says. "I’m in the mood for a little war today, what about you guys?”
Jinx grins, that manic, dangerous smile that means he's ready for violence. Jace puts his hand on Elliot's shoulder, and they both nod. We're all in. All committed.
"Harrington will be protected."
"Harrington is old, arrogant, and convinced of his own invulnerability. That makes him predictable." Jagger's smile isthin. "I know how men like him think. I know where he'll be vulnerable. And I know exactly how to reach him. Briar won’t give a fuck if we knock off the seat. He doesn’t want anything to do with the Silent. Maybe once we finish this he will claim his spot, but who the fuck knows."
I watch him plan. Watch the strategist emerge from the man who held my hand through four days of recovery. This is what he was made for. Not killing—though he's terrifyingly good at that. Planning. Calculating. Finding the weakness in any system and exploiting it.
They made him from scratch. Like a cake. They built every instinct, shaped every part of him, and now he's going to destroy them with the skills they gave him.
"When do we move?" I ask.
"Soon. But not yet." He sets down the documents. "You need to finish healing. And we need to plan this carefully. No more improvisation. No more rushing in."
"No more traps."
"No more traps." His eyes meet mine. "Next time, we're the ones setting them. In the meantime we increase security. If Aurelio found us, the Silent can too."
