CHAPTER ONE: The Empty Space

I was the only one who noticed.

At first, it was a smudge. A faint circle of dust where the old cookie jar used to sit, surrounded by a few stray crumbs. Harmless enough. But when I leaned closer, the hairs on my neck rose.

The jar was gone.

No one else seemed to care. My cousins ran shrieking through Grandma’s living room, oblivious. Aunt Marla flicked through a magazine, lips pursed. And Uncle Pete nursed his third beer on the porch, his sunburned face blank with disinterest.

But I knew.

I knew because last week, I had found Grandma’s journal in the attic. A leather-bound relic of a life I never imagined she’d led—a life of codes and safe houses, of names crossed out in trembling ink.

And one phrase I couldn’t forget:

"The Heart of Auberon is hidden where no one looks for treasure—beneath crumbs and sugar. No lock more reliable than the ordinary."

The gem was worth millions. It was cursed. And it had been inside that jar.

I gripped the edge of the counter, trying to stay calm. That’s when I saw the muddy footprint—half-faded, near the back door. And the open window above the sink.

This wasn’t an accident.

Someone had come for it.

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CHAPTER TWO: The Scent of Smoke

I moved fast. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word.

In the kitchen drawer, beneath a tangle of rubber bands and toothpicks, Grandma kept her cigarettes—clove-scented, an old habit she couldn’t quite break. But the smoke hanging in the air now wasn’t hers. It was fresher. Stronger.

Viktor.

The name hit me like a punch to the chest. Uncle Pete’s old friend. The one with the dead eyes and too-smooth smile. He’d been at the last family dinner, hovering in the corner with his black sunglasses and slick hair. I remembered the way he’d looked at the jar—casual but too interested.

I checked the window again. The latch had been forced. Not sloppy. Professional.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock struck eleven.

I grabbed Grandma’s journal, shoved it into my backpack, and headed for the door.

“Going somewhere?”

I froze.

Grandma sat in her rocker by the window, eyes sharp behind her thick glasses. For a moment, I thought she’d stop me. But instead, she reached into her pocket and held out a small brass key.

“Locker 47,” she whispered. “Train station. You’ll need it.”

I stared at her. “You knew?”

She smiled, but there was sadness in it. “Some debts never stay buried, dear. You can’t let them win.”

I nodded once, throat tight. Then I was gone.

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CHAPTER THREE: Into the Dark

I made it to the station just past midnight.

The streets were slick with rain, neon lights bleeding across puddles. My sneakers squeaked on the tile as I hurried inside, heart racing.

Locker 47 was tucked at the far end of the platform, beneath a flickering bulb. My hands shook as I turned the key.

Inside sat a velvet pouch. I opened it—then gasped.

The Heart of Auberon gleamed in the dim light, its surface swirling with shadows.

A sound behind me—footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.

I turned just as a figure stepped from the darkness. Viktor. His smile was a blade.

“Hand it over,” he said.

CHAPTER FOUR: The Standoff

“Hand it over,” Viktor said again. His voice was soft, almost kind—but his eyes were pits of ice.

My grip tightened on the pouch. My mind raced. If I gave it to him now, it would be over. He’d vanish into the black market, and *The Heart of Auberon* would be lost—or worse, unleashed.

“You won’t get away with it,” I said.

Viktor chuckled. “That line’s older than your grandmother.”

Then he took a step forward, one gloved hand slipping into his coat. A flash of metal—he had a gun.

I swallowed hard. My only advantage was that he didn’t know what I knew.

The real gem wasn’t in my hands. Not anymore. Grandma’s last words echoed in my head: “You can’t let them win.”

The pouch held a decoy. The true Heart was hidden deeper still. But if I played this wrong, Viktor would realize—and he wouldn’t leave witnesses.

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CHAPTER FIVE: The Escape

A sharp whistle broke the tension. A train screeched into the station, brakes howling, steam rising in great clouds.

I took my chance.

With one fluid motion, I tossed the pouch beneath the train. Viktor swore and lunged after it. In that split second, I turned and ran.

Down the stairs. Through the tunnels. Past startled commuters and empty kiosks.

Footsteps thundered behind me—Viktor’s men now in pursuit.

I darted into a service corridor, heart slamming. The air smelled of oil and metal. Somewhere ahead, a maintenance door stood ajar.

I slipped through and slammed it shut. Bolted it.

For now.

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CHAPTER SIX: The Call

In the darkness, I pulled out my phone. Hands shaking, I dialed the only number I could trust.

Grandma answered on the first ring.

“Are you safe?” she asked.

“Barely. Viktor’s onto me.”

A pause. Then: “He won’t stop. Not until the Heart is his. You need help.”

I swallowed. “From who?”

Another pause. Then:

“Your grandfather’s old contact. The one he never told anyone about. Go to 14 Blackthorn Street. Ask for Elena. She owes me.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone. Blackthorn Street. I had never heard the name spoken in this house.

But right now, it was my only hope.

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CHAPTER SEVEN: Elena

14 Blackthorn Street was a crumbling bookstore wedged between a shuttered pawnshop and a boarded-up café.

I hesitated at the door. Rain dripped from the awning in cold rivulets.

Inside, the air smelled of ink and dust. Rows of ancient books leaned drunkenly on their shelves.

A woman emerged from the back—mid-forties, sharp eyes, silver hair tied in a braid.

“Elena?” I asked. My voice sounded too small.

She studied me for a long moment. Then: “You’re Margaret’s grandchild.”

I nodded.

“She said you might come.”

Without another word, she locked the door behind me.

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CHAPTER EIGHT: The Web Tightens

Viktor was furious.

He’d found the decoy gem and realized too late. Now every contact he had was being activated. Word was out—whoever held the true Heart was a target.

At the bookstore, Elena moved quickly.

“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Your grandmother kept many secrets. She trusted few people. I was one of them.”

She led me into a hidden room beneath the floorboards. Maps, surveillance photos, lists of names covered the walls.

“This isn’t about money anymore,” she said. “The Heart’s power is real. There are forces—old forces—that want it awakened. If Viktor sells it to them...”

She didn’t finish.

I shivered.

We had to move.

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CHAPTER NINE: The Betrayal

We weren’t fast enough.

Elena’s safehouse was compromised.

Someone in the family had talked. Someone who knew about the journal, about the gem.

A single text came through on my phone:

"You can’t trust your blood. —V."

My stomach dropped. Aunt Marla. She’d been too curious. Too quick to dismiss the jar’s disappearance.

We had to disappear. Now.

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CHAPTER TEN: No Way Back

The night swallowed us as we fled through the back streets.

Elena led me to an abandoned tram station beneath the city. There, hidden in an ancient lockbox beneath the floor, lay the real Heart of Auberon—pulsing softly, as if alive.

I reached for it, but Elena grabbed my wrist.

“Not yet,” she said. “Once you take it, there’s no way back. Everyone will come for you. You’ll have to decide—destroy it, or guard it forever.”

My breath caught. My life, before this night, was already gone.

I looked down at the gem.

And slowly, I reached out my hand.