She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

The conference room had descended into uneasy silence.

Twenty minutes since Silva left with Dr. Varen. Twenty minutes of waiting, delegations exchanging glances, security personnel stationed at doors with no orders.

The Chinese delegation head checked his watch for the third time.

“Where is the Secretary-General?”

The question cut through the quiet. Polite. Pointed.

No answer came.

The American military attaché stood. “And Dr. Varen? We were promised access to his research. Independent verification before…”

“Gentlemen.” A UN security officer appeared at the entrance. Young. Nervous. “Secretary-General Silva has been detained by urgent matters. He asks for your patience.”

“Where is Dr. Varen?” The Russian representative’s voice carried no warmth. “We demand to see him immediately.”

“Dr. Varen is in protective custody. For his own safety.” The guard gestured vaguely toward where the old man had died. “No visitors permitted.”

Silence.

Then understanding.

They were being stalled.

“Get me a secure line to Beijing,” the Chinese representative said quietly to his aide. “Immediately.”

“Moscow needs to know about this,” the Russian delegate murmured, phone already emerging.

“Paris as well…”

“Washington…”

“London…”

The guard’s face went pale as a dozen delegates reached for encrypted phones simultaneously. “Gentlemen, please, there’s no need to…”

But it was too late.

His panic had given everything away.

Something was very wrong.

***

Within hours, every major intelligence agency reached the same conclusion.

Secretary-General Silva had vanished with Dr. Varen.

And Container Four… the largest of the seven… was gone.

The German delegation’s lead scientist worked through the night, cross-referencing Varen’s documentation against known biological principles. The dilution ratios. Integration timelines. Age restrictions. Enhancement claims.

At 3:47 AM, he sent his report:

Everything checks out. Varen’s research is legitimate. Recommend immediate acquisition of remaining containers.

By dawn, every nation had verified the same thing.

The divine blood worked.

And there were only six containers left.

***

“What happened next?” Alex asked quietly.

Catherine’s expression darkened. “Exactly what Silva predicted. Exactly what he wanted.”

“Six containers. Over fifty nations demanding access. No way to split them. No way to share them… the blood couldn’t be subdivided, and there was no secure method to store it elsewhere.”

She shifted slightly against him, her voice carrying bitter amusement.

“Some nations tried to be reasonable. Proposed giving one container per continent. Let one nation per region hold it, share access with neighboring countries.”

Her fingers traced absent patterns on his chest.

“But then came the obvious question: who holds it? Europe alone had twenty nations arguing over who’d be trustworthy enough. Asia? Forget it. Africa? The colonial powers all wanted control. Americas? North and South couldn’t agree on anything.”

A pause. Heavy with implication.

“Can you trust your neighbor with immortality? With divine power? When they could integrate it themselves and refuse to share? When they could use it to dominate everyone else?”

“They couldn’t cooperate,” Alex said quietly.

“They couldn’t afford to.” Catherine’s breath was warm against his skin. “Because while governments debated procedures and protocols, while diplomats argued over trust and verification…”

She looked up at him.

“…the real powers acted.”

Old families. Generational wealth. Shadow powers that had accumulated resources for centuries.

“Every nation has them,” Catherine explained. “The invisible aristocracy. Dynasties whose fortunes predate modern governments. Who own politicians like assets. Who move markets with phone calls.”

Families whose combined wealth exceeded most nations’ GDP.

“They’d spent generations chasing what divine blood offered,” Catherine said. “Longevity. Enhancement. Youth. Power that wouldn’t fade with age.”

Medical records appeared. Experimental treatments costing billions. Marginal results. Dying patriarchs investing fortunes for six more months of life.

“They had everything except time,” Catherine said quietly. “Until Varen showed them time could be bought.”

What followed was called the Blood Month.

Though it lasted six weeks.

“The families went to war,” Catherine said simply. “Not governments. Not armies. The actual powers behind those institutions.”

Her voice dropped.

“But first, they created chaos. Leaked state secrets. Exposed corruption scandals. Released classified documents that had been buried for decades. Every nation suddenly faced internal crises—protests, political upheaval, economic panic.”

She shifted against him.

“Presidents accused of treason. Prime ministers linked to trafficking rings. Military generals exposed for war crimes. Financial ministers caught embezzling billions. All happening simultaneously across fifty nations.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “They manufactured distractions.”

“Precisely. While governments scrambled to contain their own scandals, while citizens protested in the streets demanding accountability, while media cycles consumed themselves with domestic crises…”

Catherine’s expression hardened.

“…the families moved. Free from oversight. Free from interference. Free to fight for divine power while the world burned with manufactured outrage.”

The casualty reports were staggering.

Not soldiers. Not mercenaries.

Families.

“They didn’t hire proxies,” Alex said, reading between her words with growing horror. “They killed each other directly.”

“These weren’t bureaucrats playing politics.” Catherine’s voice was hard. “These were dynasties that had ruled through controlled violence for centuries. When divine power became available, they used every resource they’d accumulated. Every connection. Every weapon. Every ounce of ruthlessness.”

The numbers climbed.

Forty-seven thousand dead in six weeks.

Not in war zones. In cities. In corporate towers. In private estates where families that had existed for centuries were erased overnight.

“The ones who survived weren’t the wealthiest,” Catherine said. “They were the most vicious. The most prepared. The most willing to sacrifice everything… including their own blood… for victory.”

***

“By the time governments realized what had happened,” Catherine said, “it was too late. Families controlled the containers. They had successfully integrated divine essence into their chosen heirs. And they had no intention of sharing.”

“They couldn’t be stopped,” Alex said.

“Not by normal humans. Not by governments. Not by anyone.”

Catherine’s expression shifted.

“Except Silva.”

He emerged when he judged the moment right. Not to negotiate. Not to cooperate.

To take everything.

“He started systematically,” Catherine said quietly. “Hunting the families one by one. Eliminating bloodlines.”

Her voice dropped.

“And he was winning. Too strong. Too fast. Too refined. Families that had survived the Blood Month were being wiped out in days. Silva moved through them like death itself.”

She paused.

“Then he encountered something impossible.”

Alex felt her tense against him.

“Six people. Four men. Two women. All Enhanced. All at his level.”

“His level?” Alex’s voice carried disbelief.

“That’s…”

“Impossible. Exactly.” Catherine’s fingers stilled on his chest. “Silva had spent two months optimizing integration. Refining enhancement beyond what Varen achieved. He should have been untouchable.”

Her breath was warm against his skin.

“But these six matched him. Not individually… he could have killed any of them alone. But together? They fought him to a standstill.”

“Who were they?”

“That’s what Silva wanted to know.”

Catherine’s voice carried dark amusement.

“He was astonished. Furious. These people shouldn’t exist. Their integration was too perfect. Their power too refined. As if someone had given them the exact same advantages he’d taken months to develop.”

She shifted slightly.

“Silva realized immediately… this wasn’t coincidence. Someone was helping them. Someone had been preparing them specifically to counter him. But who? How?”

Alex waited.

“He had no answers. Just six Enhanced humans who could match his strength. Who moved with coordination that suggested training. Who fought with techniques that implied guidance.”

Her voice hardened.

“So Silva made a choice. He could fight them… maybe win, maybe die trying. Or he could retreat. Regroup. Find whoever was plotting against him and eliminate them first.”

“He gave up the containers,” Alex said slowly.

“For now.” Catherine’s tone carried weight.

“Silva withdrew. Vanished back into the shadows. Left the six standing victorious.”

“But he’s still out there.”

“Oh yes.” Her smile pressed against his shoulder. “Still out there. Still waiting. Still planning his revenge against whoever dared oppose him.”

What happened next wasn’t documented in any official record.

Just six people standing in the ruins of where gods had died, breathing hard, wounded, victorious.

And immediately, the alliance began to crack.

“The moment Silva retreated,” Catherine said quietly, “they turned on each other. Six Enhanced humans. Six containers. And now no common enemy to unite them.”

Her fingers traced patterns on his chest.

“One of the men moved first. Went for the woman nearest him. Saw her container as easy prey. The others reacted. Weapons drawn. Power flaring. Within seconds, they were about to tear each other apart.”

Alex felt her tense.

“Then one of them spoke.”

She paused.

Catherine’s voice shifted, taking on a tone of memory… as if reciting words passed down through generations:

“This is exactly what he wants. This is why he retreated. He’s out there… more powerful than any of us alone… waiting for us to destroy each other. Then he’ll return and take everything from our corpses.”

Silence in the archive.

“The others stopped,” Catherine continued.

“Because she was right. Silva hadn’t fled in defeat. He’d made a tactical retreat. And if they fought now, weakened themselves, killed each other…”

“He’d win by doing nothing,” Alex finished.

“Exactly.” Catherine shifted against him.

“She kept talking. Told them they had a choice. Fight each other and guarantee Silva’s victory. Or cooperate. Become stronger. Prove that whoever helped them… whoever gave them the power to match Silva… had chosen wisely.”

Her voice dropped.

“She said: ’We alone can’t face him. But together? Together we might become strong enough that he’ll never dare return. Strong enough to protect what we’ve claimed. Strong enough to prove we deserved this power in the first place.’”

Alex absorbed that. A mediator. A strategist who saw past immediate advantage to long-term survival.

“The negotiation lasted three Hours,” Catherine said. “No governments involved. No UN oversight. No democratic process. Just six Enhanced humans… soon to be seven when Silva was included… deciding they had more to gain from cooperation than conquest.”

“They made a deal,” Catherine said. “The only deal that made sense.”

*We, the Inheritors of Divine Blood, establish the following:*

*One: Each of us retains one container and its bloodline. No theft. No conquest.*

*Two: Each of us governs designated territory as autonomous power.*

*Three: We do not interfere in each other’s domains.*

*Four: Violations will be met with united response from the other six.*

*Five: We are the Seven. We represent the Seven Gods. We rule.*

Seven signatures.

“They stopped fighting,” Alex said slowly, “because they realized they’d destroy each other if they continued.”

“More than that.” Catherine’s voice carried something like admiration. “They realized they could rule if they cooperated. Not as nations. Not as governments. But as Enhanced aristocracy above normal human institutions.”

The map appeared. The world divided into seven territories.