My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 752: The world of Irth (part-18)

The plane's wheels met the tarmac with a smooth, practiced touch, a subtle jolt running through the cabin. Outside, the world was bathed in golden hues, the late afternoon sun stretching long shadows across the private island's airstrip. From above, the place had looked like something out of a dream—pristine white sand, dense green forests, and an azure coastline that kissed the horizon. But now that they were on the ground, Azzy felt the isolation pressing in.

A man in a crisp, tailored suit approached as they descended the stairs. He was middle-aged, with sharp features and an air of efficiency. "Welcome, Miss Ciesta," he greeted with a polite nod. "Everything has been prepared as per your instructions."

Ciesta barely acknowledged him with more than a smile before waving a dismissive hand. "Thank you, Mr. Graves. We'll head straight to the resort." freeweɓnøvel.com

The group was ushered toward a waiting limousine, its sleek black exterior gleaming under the sun. As they climbed inside, Nash let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl. A limo? You sure know how to live."

Ciesta smirked. "What's the point of having money if your kids can't enjoy it?"

The drive through the island was breathtaking—winding roads cutting through thick tropical foliage, occasional glimpses of the ocean breaking through the trees. The hum of the engine was the only thing filling the silence for a while, until Wendy leaned forward. "So, what's the plan?"

"We'll meet in the lounge in thirty minutes," Ciesta replied. "Get settled in, freshen up, and then we'll discuss how we're spending the weekend."

One by one, the others were handed their room keys. The two couples—Ciesta and Nash, Wendy and Max—had their own suites. Rina and Zack shared a connected twin room. But when Azzy stepped forward, expecting his own key, Leiza spoke first.

"He's staying with me."

A beat of silence followed her words. Even Mr. Graves blinked, but he quickly recovered, nodding before moving to the next task.

Azzy, however, turned to her, eyebrows raised. "What?"

Leiza gave a nonchalant shrug, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're my bodyguard. You have to stay with me 24/7 when I'm away from home."

That earned a reaction. Zack, who had been standing beside Rina, let out a scoff. "This place is perfectly safe, though." His eyes flickered toward his cousin, almost as if waiting for backup.

Rina hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, the island's security is top-tier. There's no real need for—"

Leiza turned to her with a sharp look. It was quick, barely a second, but it carried weight.

Rina's voice faltered. Then, as if reconsidering, she cleared her throat. "—but, um… I guess it's better to be safe than sorry."

Azzy caught the shift, the unspoken communication. Leiza had expected pushback. She had anticipated objections. And yet, she was firm. Why?

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine," he muttered. It wasn't as if he actually needed his own space, but still, this arrangement was going to be… uncomfortable.

Zack, on the other hand, didn't look pleased. His gaze flickered between Azzy and Leiza, something unreadable crossing his expression. But he said nothing.

As the group dispersed to their respective rooms, Azzy trailed behind Leiza, his mind already turning. If there is a possibility of threat of abduction—this trip was going to be anything but relaxing for him. Fortunately, this isn't a city with people around. So, his job also becomes easier.

Leiza turned to Azzy with an easy smile, as if nothing about the situation was unusual. "Let's go," she said, her tone light.

Azzy didn't respond immediately, only giving a slight nod before following her. As they walked down the hallway toward their cabin, a few lingering gazes trailed after them.

From behind, Ciesta watched the two with a knowing smirk. "Something's going to happen between those two before we leave," she mused aloud.

Nash chuckled, shaking his head. "You think so?"

Ciesta hummed. "Just a feeling."

Nearby, Zack clenched his fists at his sides. He didn't say anything, didn't react beyond that small motion—but the tension in his stance was undeniable.

The cabin was spacious yet minimalistic, a balance of luxury and comfort. The soft scent of saltwater lingered in the air, carried in by the ocean breeze through the slightly open balcony doors.

Leiza set her bag down near the bed and turned to Azzy. "Want to use the bathroom first?" she asked.

Azzy shook his head. "Go ahead."

She nodded, gathering a set of clothes from her bag before disappearing into the bathroom. The faint sound of water running soon followed.

Alone, Azzy took in his surroundings. The cabin had a modern aesthetic—warm wooden floors, soft ambient lighting, and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the ocean beyond.

Drawn by the view, he stepped toward the window, resting a hand lightly on the frame as he gazed out. The resort was built atop an elevated flatland, giving a panoramic view of the vast, unbroken stretch of water. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting molten gold across the waves.

It should've been peaceful.

But Azzy's thoughts weren't on the scenery.

His mind drifted back to the presence he had sensed the night before—the ancient malice that had nearly locked onto him. The fallen angel Abaddon.

Azzy exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he stared at the horizon. He should be out there, hunting his target, tracking the target down before he caused more destruction. Instead, he was here. Stuck. Playing bodyguard.

He clenched his jaw.

Meanwhile, far from the mortal world, beyond the reach of time and decay, the Silver City gleamed with ethereal brilliance. Its towering spires, woven from light and divine essence, pierced the sky, their radiance stretching endlessly across the heavens. The air shimmered with sacred energy, a presence both overwhelming and comforting to those who dwelled within.

Yet, in the heart of this divine realm, hidden away in a secretive chamber, the atmosphere was anything but serene.

Claire stood before a massive floating crystal, her striking blue eyes reflecting the golden light pulsating from within. Suspended inside the crystal was a figure—an angel, frozen in time, his form barely visible through the shifting glow. His wings, once pure and radiant, were dulled, his expression serene yet hauntingly still.

She clenched her hands at her sides, her golden hair cascading over the intricate silver armor she wore.

The gentle sound of footsteps echoed behind her. She didn't need to turn to know who it was. "Master?"

Adam, the Son of their creator, moved to stand beside her. His gaze, piercing yet unreadable, rested on the suspended angel before shifting to Claire.

"A report just came in," Adam spoke, his voice as steady as ever. "A team in the mortal world confirmed the presence of a fallen angel."

Claire's brows furrowed as she turned slightly toward him. "A fallen angel?"

"Abaddon," Adam said, the name itself heavy with history, "An original one. Corrupted by Lucifer himself."

Claire's lips parted slightly in surprise. "Abaddon. That name hadn't been spoken in the Silver City for centuries." The first of the fallen, the harbinger of destruction, a nightmare etched into the past of the heavens.