Adrian stared at the blood-signed contract in his hands, Julian's signature burning into his vision like a ghost refusing to die.
The ink hadn't faded.
The blood hadn't dried.
Julian hadn't just signed it. He'd orchestrated it.
"What does it mean?" Isabella asked, her voice raw from running. "Why would your brother sign something that sells out his own bloodline?"
Adrian didn't answer right away. He was listening—to the way the trees moved, to the way the birds didn't sing. The woods were too quiet.
"We're not just being hunted," he murmured. "We're being herded."
Isabella blinked. "Toward what?"
Adrian stood and folded the contract into his coat. "The next phase."
Meanwhile — Underground Archive, Milan
A woman in red stilettos walked through rows of forgotten history. Tall. Cold. Beautiful as a guillotine.
Her name was Luciana Morello.
Julian and Adrian's cousin.
She stopped at a locked vault and keyed in a code known only to the dead.
0319JM.
The door opened.
Inside: a laptop, blinking with unread messages. One at the top was marked JULIAN: OPEN ONLY IF ADRIAN SURVIVES.
Luciana hesitated… then clicked.
Julian's face appeared. A pre-recorded video. Bruised, bloodied, but eyes burning with purpose.
"If you're watching this, it means I failed to stop them. But Adrian lived. Which means everything I did—the betrayals, the faked alliances, the death—I did for a future he's not ready for."
"The Phoenix Protocol wasn't a weapon. It was a resurrection. A way to rewrite the bloodlines of every family on the coast. Not just power redistribution. Blood rebirth."
Luciana leaned in.
"Adrian will think this is about revenge. About legacy. But it's not. It's about sacrifice. And he will have to choose: destroy the families… or become them."
Present Day — Safehouse, Brooklyn
Adrian slammed the steel door behind him. Sweat clung to his back. Isabella had collapsed onto the couch, knees trembling, hands shaking.
"I don't know who to trust anymore," she whispered. "First my father. Then your family. And now Julian? He signed a contract that nearly killed you."
Adrian looked at her. "He signed it to protect someone."
She frowned. "Who?"
He opened a cabinet, dug past old liquor bottles and weapons—until he pulled out a dusty box labeled "J.M. // RED FILE."
Inside:
Photos.
Birth certificates.
Blood tests.
And one document that shattered the silence.
"Subject 09: Isabella Romano-Morello."
She stared at it like it was a bomb.
"What the hell is this?"
Adrian's voice was quiet. But cutting.
"You're not Marco Romano's daughter. You're Julian's."
Elsewhere — Unknown Coordinates
Marco Romano stared at the ultrasound photo of Isabella.
He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He breathed—long and deep.
"She was never supposed to find out," he said.
Next to him, Don Morello stood silent.
"She's going to choose a side," Marco added.
Morello nodded. "So we give her a reason to choose ours."
They walked down a hallway.
At the end was a prison cell.
Inside: a woman with bruised wrists, but fire in her eyes.
Isabella's mother.
Julian's lover.
Still alive.
Back at the Safehouse
Isabella backed away from the file. "This is a lie. This is manipulation—this is—"
"DNA doesn't lie," Adrian said. "Julian hid you in plain sight. He used Marco to protect you from the truth."
Her chest heaved. "He used me."
"No," Adrian said. "He built the Protocol for you."
She looked up, eyes blazing.
"Then it's time we finish what he started."
Adrian smiled for the first time in days.
But it didn't reach his eyes.
Because the last paper in the folder…
Was an invitation.
With tomorrow's date.
A time.
And one location:
The Rebirth Summit.
Host: Luciana Morello.
Purpose: Final Selection of the Phoenix Heir.