24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ethan
“ I f you’re here to tell me that I did a bad job of holding things down, then you can save me the lecture,” I’m quick to get the first word in as Alucard walks into my office.
The missing name plaque on my desk, the empty secretary corner outside my office, and the hostile air are enough—and constant—reminders that my position now belongs to my cousin.
The only thing I held on to was my office. Call it a desperate attempt to save my ego… but I wasn’t going to let him take the symbolism of everything I worked for from me.
Alucard lowers himself into the chair with a lazy confidence, amusement flickering in his sharp eyes. “Relax, son. I wouldn’t put down a wounded animal while it’s still licking its wounds.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Not that I think you’re one, of course.”
My wounds might not be visible, but I feel every single one.
“I know you have a plan,” he continues, his gaze steady.
“I do,” I reply with a firm nod.
His smirk widens as he leans back. “Good. That means you’re thinking long-term. Your father? He would’ve stormed in, guns blazing, demanding revenge. But that was always his downfall—he never played the long game.”
I don’t know if my plans are solid either. They feel more like a shaky foundation waiting to collapse.
I still have no answers, no leads on the bastards who took the photographs, and no leads on the rival gangs who have gone quiet since the exposé on Ethan Cross hit the streets. They are likely biding their time, waiting to see who falls next.
Alucard watches me, then exhales, shaking his head. “I came here to offer you something I know you need.”
My curiosity stirs, but I keep my expression unreadable, head tilting slightly. Every offer comes with a cost. A debt. And as much as I need leverage right now, trust is a luxury I can’t afford.
Anthony Cross made certain of that. Still, I’m curious to see his hand.
“What is it?”
“I need you to know that my sources are legitimate,” he says after a brief pause. “I have men in places where yours wouldn’t dare to go, so when I tell you what I know, I want you to take it as the truth.”
I shrug. “I’ll determine that.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, the kind my father might have worn if he’d ever been capable of fatherly pride. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small black flash drive, sliding it smoothly across the desk. “Everything you need is in there. I like to keep my affairs handy. ”
Alucard rises from his seat, straightening his jacket as he clears his throat. “If you need more proof, you know where to find me.”
Something akin to disappointment crosses his face before he turns away, and he leaves with parting words, “Blood is a terrible thing sometimes, Ethan. When you have to spill it, it leaves an ugly stain that never really washes away.”
The second Alucard is out the door, I rip my laptop screen open and shove the drive into the port. Clicking on a folder that pops up, I’m taken aback when a flood of pictures pours out, tiny boxes filling my screen.
The first image that zooms out is enough evidence, as Alucard said.
It’s Anthony, parked across the restaurant where Natalie and I had dinner, with a camera in hand. The implication is as clear as day.
He took the photographs that were sent as a threat.
The pictures show my cousin in increasingly different states of betrayal—with Joe Geller, whom he battered the other day, sharing a glass of whiskey.
With members of rival mafia gangs and men I know would stab me in the back, even if I was looking over my shoulder.
By the time I’m done, my fingers have made claw marks into the polished wood of my desk. There’s a new hole in my chest, and it’s bleeding with rage, like a silent bullet engraved with a single name. Carved and painted to kill one target.
Anthony.
My cousin… shaking hands with my enemies, plotting behind my back. All this while, all the rage he had over my indecision was an act.
And I, like a sold fool, fell for it.
Not anymore.
The chair scrapes against the floor and falls backward as I stand up angrily, grabbing my suit jacket. My strides across the office are laced with brewing thoughts of what I intend to do to Anthony when I find him.
Family or not, he’ll beg me for mercy. With my foot crushing his windpipe and his face turning blue, he’ll beg me to spare him from death.
I won’t kill him.
No. Death is too easy for an offense of this scale. I’ll feed him to the same wolves he’s been conniving with. I’ll throw him overboard and watch them feast when they figure out he no longer has the backing of Ethan Cross.
“Sir—” Perpetual notices as I breeze past her desk. “Sir—are you heading somewhere? You have a meeting—”
The fury in my eyes as I halt and glance over my shoulder has her staggering back in wild fright. “I’ll attend to them later,” I sound like a record scrubbed clean, like the darkening clouds before a storm. “You can take the rest of the day off.”
Ignoring her visible swallow, I whirl again and continue, my fist curling with the plans I have for Anthony.
***
My phone rings sharply as I enter the car, and I’m tempted to ignore it for a moment—keeping my momentum fixed on finding Anthony, but I still reach into my pocket.
It’s Leonard.
My forehead pinches at the center, and my mouth presses into a thin line. “You picked a fucking sweet time to call, Leonard,” I say. “You should’ve stayed in the hole you burrowed deep until the dirt filled your lungs. ”
“I—I—” he stammers, and my lips curl into a quiet, disdainful sneer. “I’m sorry, boss. I didn’t know what to do. I promise you, I wasn’t going to tell them anything, but Mr. Cross said I had to cooperate—” his voice trembles, “because he was now in charge.”
Anthony. Anthony. Anthony.
My jaw tightens, the muscles clenching so hard it feels like it might snap. When did my cousin decide to betray me? Was it when I took over from my father or before my father died?
“But… there’s something else, boss.”
“What do you want?” I snap, revving the engine of my car to life. “Mercy? A second chance?”
“Royale. The casino. The restaurant in Delaware. Someone set them on fire.”
I don’t have to ask.
I know who is responsible.
Instead of the explosive rage I expect, something calm comes over me. Not acceptance… no. It’s an eerie calm, the kind that precedes a storm. It’s a dead finality—because if I had a shred of mercy to spare before, it no longer exists.
“I’ll be at Royale soon. Curtail the fire from spreading to other buildings. And Leo?” I pause, letting the silence stretch with the weight of my unspoken threat, “My delayed response to your action is not an act of forgiveness.”
I’m done giving those out.