Ashes Of The Throne | Part I

Chapter 164 | Blindsided

"Charlotte," Toni barked, tightening his grip on her shoulders, his voice trembling with urgent concern. "What do you mean they're after us?"

Charlotte's lower lip quivered, and her entire body shuddered like a leaf in a violent storm. Her breathing came in sharp, panicked bursts as her fingers twitched, desperately grasping at empty air.

"I never meant to like you," she gasped, her words spilling out in frantic desperation. "I never meant to hurt you—to spiral you. They told me I had to." Her voice broke, raw and unfiltered.

Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't dare meet Toni's eyes. Instead, her gaze locked onto Matthew, who stood just feet behind them—frozen, bewildered, absorbing every word with mounting dread.

Charlotte's sob came in shuddering waves as she whispered, "If Toni spiraled... then you would spiral. That was the plan. That's all they cared about, I promise!" 

At those words, Matthew's entire body went still, the crushing weight of her revelation hanging heavy in the charged silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and cold—almost lethal. "Plan?" he murmured, as if the word itself was a death sentence.

Charlotte nodded frantically, her movements jerky and desperate, her pulse pounding in the oppressive quiet. She turned to Toni, her fingers gripping his jacket like ice. "Please," she pleaded urgently, her voice cracking. "They'll kill me if they know I'm here. You need to prep—"

Before she could finish, the building convulsed with a violent explosion—a deafening exhale that shattered the fragile calm. A blinding flash swallowed the room in fire and shattered glass, as a brutal wave of heat crashed over them. The force threw everyone into chaos; Toni's feet left the ground and his back slammed against the cold marble floor, the impact rattling through his ribs. His ears filled with a static roar while swirling dust and debris obscured his vision.

Then, amid the haze, a second explosion detonated—closer, more violent. The floor lurched violently, and the building groaned as metal screamed in protest, teetering on the brink of collapse. Toni pushed himself up on trembling arms, hacking coughs against the thick, choking smoke that invaded his lungs. The acrid stench of burning metal and scorched leather filled his nostrils, suffocating him as his vision blurred and his instincts screamed for him to look up.

And then, as if the chaos demanded even more, another explosion rocked the structure—closer still—hurling them all to the brink of oblivion. Closer. More violent. The floor shifted once again, and the entire building groaned under the unbearable strain. Toni barely had a moment to regain his composure when he felt it—a subtle, eerie crack in the air that spoke of something far more insidious than mere destruction.

Magic seeped through the oxygen like a slow, venomous toxin—piercing skin with needle-like precision and burrowing deep into bones. It coiled around his ribs, constricting and suffocating, while the very air twisted thick with an unseen, malignant force—something sharp, something profoundly wrong.

And then, amid the chaos, a presence made itself known.

Xero stood behind Charlotte, utterly silent and unmoving. He didn't need to speak; his stillness said it all. His presence filled the room like an oppressive weight, drowning out even the raging fires outside, the groaning skyscrapers, and the distant echoes of screams. In that moment, the entire world shrank to this one space—this shattered boardroom—and to him.

Charlotte's breath caught; her body stiffened, her shoulders locking and her chin bowing like a prisoner resigned to her fate. Then, with a thunderous slam that shattered the silence like a gunshot, the boardroom doors burst open. Out poured the high-ranking elite of Isadora—the once-untouchable, now reduced to panicked, trembling figures. Their status meant nothing here; they were mere shells, caught in the vortex of an unforgiving war.