The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 100: Warning

The faint glow of the communication panel illuminated Elara’s pale face as she sat alone in her dimly lit villa.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she held the encrypted communicator to her ear, her heart racing with dread.

The message from her contact within the Black Talons echoed in her mind. [The crown prince has issued a direct order. Lady Athena is the primary target. We must act quickly.]

Elara’s throat tightened. The Black Talons were Zyvander’s most feared covert force, ruthless and efficient. If they’d been mobilized, time was already running out.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, and pressed the secure-call button. A soft chime rang before the familiar voice answered.

"Elara?" Mors’s voice came through, laced with tension.

"Brother," she whispered, gripping the communicator tighter. "We have a problem. A big one."

Mors remained silent for a second too long. "The Black Talons?"

"Yes." Elara closed her eyes, the weight of the situation pressing down on her chest. "They’re moving toward Sinalta. Zyvander’s targeting Athena. He wants to use her against you."

A soft curse came from the other end. Elara could almost see Mors running a hand through his hair, his mind racing. His composure rarely cracked, but this was no ordinary threat.

"How reliable is this information?" Mors asked.

"My sources never fail," Elara said, voice firm.

"They intercepted a message about ’destabilizing the Demerin alliance’ and ’isolating the second prince.’ Athena is the linchpin of that strategy."

Mors’s silence returned, heavier than before. "He’s desperate," he said eventually. "He knows I won’t sit still if she’s in danger."

"Exactly. He’s provoking you, Mors," Elara replied. "He wants you to react emotionally. The moment you expose your resources, he’ll strike with full force."

Mors exhaled audibly. "Then we won’t give him that chance."

Elara sat up straighter. "What do you have in mind?"

"First," Mors said, his voice regaining its steel edge, "Athena can’t stay in the estate. It’s too exposed. We’ll move her to a Demerin stronghold, something off Zyvander’s radar."

"The Demerin estate in Asenus?" Elara asked.

"Too obvious. He’ll monitor it closely," Mors said.

"There’s an old military facility underground, Fort Erevan. It was decommissioned after the rebellion ten years ago. No current records link it to me or the Demerin family."

Elara frowned. "Getting her there undetected won’t be easy. The Black Talons are already active."

"I’ll deploy my shadow guards to create distractions across Sinalta," Mors explained.

"Explosions, false leads, anything to scatter their forces. Meanwhile, Athena will leave disguised as one of the medical personnel assigned to a refugee convoy."

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Elara absorbed the plan. "That’s dangerous. If she’s discovered…"

"I’ll personally ensure she’s safe," Mors said, the steel in his voice unyielding.

"Athena knows how to handle herself. She’s not the same woman Zyvander remembers from the reports. She’s stronger now."

Elara couldn’t argue. In the short time she’d observed Athena, she’d seen the sharpness in the woman’s eyes, the quiet resilience etched into her posture. Still, doubt gnawed at her.

"And what about you?" she asked.

"I’ll stay here and maintain the illusion that we’re unaware of the threat," Mors said.

"If I move, Zyvander will know something’s wrong. He’ll expect me to go with her. If I don’t, he might hesitate just long enough for the plan to work."

Elara clenched her fists. "You’re taking a massive risk."

"Calculated risks are the only kind that matters," Mors answered.

Silence stretched between them, both siblings weighing the stakes.

They knew Zyvander’s cruelty firsthand. The man didn’t merely seek victory, he reveled in domination, in dismantling his enemies piece by piece.

"What about you?" Mors asked finally. "You’re still on Asenus, exposed."

"I have my own network," Elara replied. "The Black Talons are good, but they don’t know the forests like I do. I’ve already arranged alternate identities. If things go south, I’ll disappear."

"Don’t hesitate," Mors warned. "The moment you sense danger, leave."

Elara bit her lower lip. "I won’t let them use me against you."

"Good." Mors exhaled slowly.

"We’ll sync our movements. Athena leaves tomorrow at dawn. Fort Erevan will be prepped by then. I’ll contact you through a ghost channel once she’s safe."

"Understood," Elara said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Mors… be careful."

"I will," he said softly. "And Elara?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "For watching over us."

Tears pricked her eyes. "You’re my brother. I’d burn the empire for you."

The call ended with a soft click, leaving Elara staring at the blank screen. She leaned back in the chair, heart heavy.

The stakes had shifted too suddenly. The throne war was no longer a distant political game, it had invaded their lives with sharp claws.

Meanwhile, in Sinalta…

Mors turned off his communicator and leaned against the wall of his study. The polished floor beneath him seemed to tilt slightly.

The Saintess’s curse pulsed faintly in his veins, whispering like a dormant serpent awakening from slumber.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, suppressing the ominous energy. He couldn’t afford weakness now. Not with Athena’s life at stake.

The soft creak of the door caught his attention. Athena stood there, dressed in a simple gray robe, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Her emerald eyes searched his face.

"You look worried," she said quietly.

Mors straightened, forcing a faint smile. "Just military logistics," he lied. "Nothing serious."

She didn’t believe him. Her gaze lingered on the faint tension around his mouth, the guarded glint in his eyes.

But she didn’t press. Instead, she walked forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

The steady beat of her heart against his ribs grounded him. He lowered his chin, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Let’s go back to bed," she murmured. "You haven’t slept in days."

He allowed her to lead him away, but his mind never stopped calculating. By sunrise, she’d be on her way to Fort Erevan. Safe, hopefully. Hidden, if luck favored them.

And if the Black Talons found her, Mors vowed silently, he’d tear Sinalta apart to bring her back.