Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33
MICHAEL
When I told my father I had it handled, I never anticipated it would take me three bloody weeks of sleepless nights to finally unearth the bastard who’d hurt my sister.
I parked my motorbike on the deserted side street behind the Thorn, located just a few blocks from where my sister’s accident had occurred. Despite how strenuous it was to find the culprit, he hadn’t exactly gone to great lengths to cover his tracks.
I pulled my helmet off, and stationed myself at the end of the narrow street, waiting for Walker Simons to emerge from his favorite hiding spot. My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out of my jacket, already knowing who was calling.
“Anything?” Sofiane asked the moment I answered.
“No, I’m still waiting,” I checked my watch to find it was already a few minutes past midnight. “He’s running behind schedule,” I explained, aiming my attention on the back door again.
After my father had dismissed me the night of Alice’s accident, Azara had covered for me for the rest of the night so I’d be able to stay by my sister’s side. But with my father there, I’d gone straight home instead and began my search.
Knowing I was working with limited resources, I’d immediately rang Sofiane for help. He’d showed up at my place thirty minutes later with his encrypted laptop and got straight to it. It didn’t take long before we discovered that the intersection where the accident took place had no CCTV coverage.
So while Sofiane had gathered all the footage from the surrounding businesses and streets, I’d gone to the scene to have a look at it in person.
It had only been a few hours after the accident, but when I’d gotten there, it was as if nothing had ever happened. The area was eerily quiet and the only evidence left were the tiny shards of a broken headlight, carelessly discarded to the side of the road.
An overwhelming wave of guilt had threatened to take hold of me, but I’d buried any and all of my feelings somewhere deep in the back of my brain and focused on the job at hand. My father reminding me that I couldn’t afford any distractions had stirred up what I’d been ignoring for too long.
I’d deluded myself into thinking there wouldn’t be consequences, that I’d be able to have the best of both worlds and it would all somehow work out.
But I’d kept so much of myself hidden from Azara, how the hell did I ever think this could work? How could I believe that my responsibilities wouldn’t eventually catch up to me and that I wouldn’t have to walk away from her?
Of course, I knew that from the first time I kissed her, the second, and all the times after that, that I was too involved. But the more time I spent with her, the more everything else blurred until my sole focus was narrowed in on her and how I could make her mine.
But that was the thing about making selfish decisions, wasn't it?
Bad things always followed, no matter how high they made you feel.
So, as much as I'd wanted to run after Azara when she’d shown up at my door last week, the cold, unforgiving truth of my reality and its ticking clock hit me like a freight train.
“I just checked the single camera at the entrance again. He went inside exactly two hours ago. Shouldn’t be much longer,” Sofiane said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Let’s hope so.”
A sudden clatter echoed off the grimy walls of the alley and instinctively, I drew my gun, aiming it toward the source of the noise. But instead of coming face to face with a threat, my barrel was trained on a scruffy black cat, standing right in the middle of the path, its dark eyes staring directly at me.
I let out a sharp sigh and lowered my weapon, tucking it back into the waistband of my jeans. “I’ll call you back,” I muttered to Sofiane as I waved a hand to shoo the feline away. But it didn’t budge. It just stood there as if it was glaring at me.
“Just don’t get caught,” he warned, fully aware of what would be at stake if I did.
“Have I ever been caught?” I shot back at him before ending the call and slipping my phone back into my pocket.
Simons should be coming out any minute now. Whether he’d stumble out on his own, drunk, or he’d be thrown out for causing trouble.
Something we’d discovered he often did.
After I’d gotten home, Sofiane and I had spent the next forty-eight hours sifting through the countless hours of surveillance footage because whoever had been driving, had been careful to evade the cameras in the perimeter.
Until we finally found a blurry image of the car that matched the description the witness at the scene had given to the police officers. But, of course, things didn’t turn out that simple. When we’d tracked down the car’s owner, it had turned out to belong to a seventy year old retiree who’d reported it stolen a few days earlier.
And that brought us back to square one.
Sofiane then shifted his search to map out all the possible routes the stolen vehicle could have taken while I worked on tracking the witness that had helped my sister. I’d needed a better account of the events since the officers at the scene had done a poor job at it. But they hadn’t taken any proper details from the girl, and the number they had on file had turned out to be a wrong one.
Which hadn’t been surprising considering how poorly documented my sister’s accident had been. But that was par for the course with law enforcement.
No matter how much money you threw at them, if it didn’t serve their own agendas, they could care less about some reckless driver on the loose since no one had been fatally injured.
Even then, unless it was one of them, they never really put much thought into it. Especially not when it came to people like us. Which only reminded me of why the House had been created in the first place and why I had to uphold its legacy.
This wasn’t about me.
It had never been.
It was far bigger than what I wanted and I’d do well to remember it.
Eventually, after days of endless frustrations with nothing but dead ends to show for it, Sofiane and I had caught a break.
We’d tracked the car to a petrol station. Sofiane then worked his magic, hacking into their cameras and capturing a photo of the driver. And unlike the effort he’d put in to evade surveillance on the road, he’d quickly shed off any of his anonymity for a pack of beers and a lottery ticket.
His carelessness had set off a quiet alarm bell in the back of my mind, but I’d brushed it to the side, too focused on getting to the bottom of this. My father had been constantly harassing me asking for updates and I had to give him something concrete.
Besides, within minutes of running the image through a police database, we found his name and looking into his background, his negligence wasn’t so out of character.
Walker Simons. Twenty-seven years old, unemployed and up to his neck in debt that he’d only made worse every night by frequenting Marcus Blackthorn’s place. Simons owed thousands of dollars to the loan shark, and despite his mounting debts, he came here almost every night only digging himself deeper in financial ruin.
The stray cat abruptly scampered behind a dumpster just as the back door of the pub swung open, followed by a body being unceremoniously thrown onto the street.
“Take your filthy hands off me,” Simons shouted, struggling to get to his feet. He wobbled a few times before finally managing to stand. He lurched toward the door, but the tall, burly security guard slammed it shut before he reached it.
“My money,” Simons bellowed, hammering his fists against the door like a toddler not getting his way. “Just one more round.”
When there was no response to his pleas, he kicked the door in frustration, swearing as his foot connected with the steel door. A pained groan filled the night air as he fumbled for his phone and started walking down the street in the opposite direction.
I unmounted my bike, and headed straight for him, the anger I’d been holding onto for the past couple weeks slowly boiling to the surface.
Each step I took fueled it even more until there were only a few steps separating us. Simons was so caught up in trying to turn his phone on that he hadn’t noticed me right on his tail, his sense of self-preservation completely inhibited.
The screen lit up for a brief moment before he dropped it onto the pavement with a curse. I slowed my pace, grabbing my gun and coming up behind him. He bent down, wincing with the movement, but the moment he came up, I slammed him against the wall.
My forearm pressed up against his neck. He flailed, trying to take a swing at my head, but his struggles instantly weakened when my gun found home against his temple.
The stench of his breath burned my nostrils as an ounce of his survival instincts finally seemed to kick in. “Wait,” he choked out. “I’ll give you money, just don’t?—”
“I’m not here for money, I want answers,” I gritted out, trying to keep reign of my wrath. I pressed my forearm harder against his throat and I watched his face morph into different shades of red with cold apathy. He’d left my sister laying on the cold pavement, why should I give him any mercy.
I wasn’t planning on killing him, but he didn’t need to know that.
Fear was always a great source of motivation and I’d use it to my advantage. Besides, this was much more entertaining than a simple bullet to the head.
“I-I’ll” he started, struggling to get his words out. Panic dripped off his skin as he tried to finish his sentence. “Give. You. Anything.” He moved to claw at my arm but thought better of it when he remembered the cold muzzle pressing against his skull.
I waited until a purple hue washed over his fair skin tone before I eased my hold on his windpipe. Simons gasped, his chest heaving as he tried to fill his lungs with deep breaths. “I’ll tell you anything you want, just—” he wheezed. Tears welled in his eyes as his bottom lip trembled. “Please, please don’t kill me.”
I didn’t expect much from him, but this was almost pitiful.
His eyes flicked to the side as if someone would come to his rescue, but there was no other sign of life. I thrust my forearm forward to bring his attention back.
“Why did you do it?” I said, ignoring his plea and cutting straight to the chase.
“I don’t know what you’re—” I moved the gun and shoved it into his open mouth, clicking the safety off and letting my finger hover over the trigger.
“The woman you hit on Bradford and Queensbridge.”
Realization sparked in his eyes and he sputtered around the barrel.
That’s more like it.
I slid the handgun out of his mouth and placed it under his chin.
“Speak,” I commanded.
“I swear I didn't want to do it,” he blubbered, snot dripping from his nose and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “T—they gave me a thousand quid in cash with a photo of that girl. I needed the money, mate, so I didn’t ask more questions.”
My head spun with confusion but I kept my face impassive, not wanting to show him any signs of hesitation on my part. A thousand questions whirred through my head. Who the fuck would be after my sister? But most importantly, why ?
She had no connections, no leverage that would warrant anyone hunting her down, let alone leaving her injured with no demands. If anything, they’d come after me.
Yes, my father had made plenty of enemies over the years as a lawyer, but he worked in corporate law for god's sake and none of them would even dare come after any of our families.
Our society might not know how deep their influence truly ran, but they knew not to cross with anyone associated with the Atlas name.
Not in business, and certainly not in private.
“What did they look like?”
“I—I don’t know,” he stammered, his voice quivering. “The envelope was left at my nan’s front door and I—” Simons choked as I cut off his air supply once more. “I got a call from an unknown number later that night and the automated voice on the other end ordered me to do as I was told or they’d come after me,” he panted. “I swear, I didn’t want to do it. Please, you’ve got to believe me!”
Simons was reeking of desperation, the weight of his poor decision finally sinking and it wasn’t hard to see he already regretted getting involved for what he thought would be easy money.
He could be lying, hoping I’d spare him if he cooperated, but I’d developed a finely tuned radar for bullshit and he was unfortunately telling the truth.
Now, what I’d thought would be the end of weeks without answers, only seemed to have morphed into more questions.
And I didn’t have any of the answers.
Simons must have taken my silence as an opportunity to continue to plead his case when he spoke again. “I still have it,” he offered, sniffling. “The—the photo. I still have it. They told me to keep it on me. I didn’t understand why but?—”
“Where is it?” I asked, interrupting him. His voice was really starting to grate on my nerves and if I had to hear him talk any longer, I might just shoot him to shut him up.
“Inside pocket of my jacket. Right one.
I released my hold on his throat, but kept my gun firmly pressed under his jaw while I retrieved the photograph. If he tried to run, one bullet shredding through the flesh would lead to his death.
It was a printed black and white picture of Alice taken from one of her social media platforms. She was smiling in it, just like she always was. Alice was stable now and recovering at home now, but it killed me to know that she’d been such an easy target.
My job was to protect her and I’d failed.
Simons wasn’t of any more use to me, so I released him and stepped a few back.
“Don’t tell a word of this to anyone,” I warned him. I didn’t tell him what I’d do if he dared go against my word. I didn’t need to.
I lowered my gun and shot his right kneecap. “That’s for my sister.” A guttural scream tore through his throat as his body began to sag to the floor. I aimed and shot at the other one. “And that's for wasting my time.”
Then, I left him in a pool of his own blood and urine, walking back to where I’d been parked. I climbed on my bike and readied myself to leave. I only had a few minutes before the place would swarm with police officers but I only needed a few seconds.
I turned the piece of paper to find a single word printed in generic black font that would likely be untraceable. But I hadn’t expected any different.
What I didn’t expect was to find a name written at the back.
Sabiri.
I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew the person who might.
I only had to knock once before Albert opened the door.
“Seungwon?” he said, shocked to see me here this late, and in the middle of the week no less.
I hadn’t announced my visit, but the moment I saw the name, I needed to talk to my father. I didn’t care that it was almost one in the morning or that I had to be up in the next four hours to go to work.
“Where is my father?” I said, stepping inside.
Albert shut the door behind us with a quiet click. “Mr. Young is working in his office, why?—”
“Thank you,” I interrupted, already moving toward the main staircase.
I didn’t bother removing my coat or taking my shoes off. My mother would have a fit if she knew, but right now the only thing I had on my mind was talking to my father. Thankfully, my parent’s as well as my sister’s bedroom were on the other side of the house, so the commotion wouldn’t disturb either of them in their sleep.
She’d already been so worried since Alice’s accident, I didn’t want to add anything more to her plate.
“Seungwon,” Albert called after me, but I was already hurrying up the stairs. The lift might have taken me there faster, but I needed to burn some of the tension I’d been holding on the ride over here before I exploded in my father’s face.
I’d debated the entire time whether it was a wise decision to come here at all. Part of me wondered if this was all part of a test before my Ascension. The Elders were notorious for testing their legacy’s loyalty to the House to determine whether we’d crack under the pressure and betray what we were meant to protect .
The boys and I had plenty of stories to share in that regard.
My father hadn’t put me through one of his tests, not since I was in medical school. His meter of morality wasn’t the most angelic one, but how completely fucked would my father have to be in order to hurt his only daughter as a pawn.
When I finally reached the third floor, my anger was still sizzling in my chest as I headed for his office and entered without bothering to knock.
“Father,” I greeted him, my tone clipped as I strode toward him.
He looked up from the stack of papers he was browsing through, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Seungwon,” he said, his voice measured. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
I didn’t want to jump to conclusions until I heard it from him, but he was acting like he’d been expecting me and it didn't help settle the edge I was feeling from tonight’s unfolding of events.
I placed the now crumpled picture of Alice on his desk with a firm thud. “I need answers.”
His gaze briefly flickered to the photo of his daughter then back to me. “Why are you showing me a picture of your sister?
“Why don’t you tell me?” I shot back. I was trying to remain calm, but his impassive demeanor was only adding fuel to my frustrations.
He sighed, the exhale slow and deliberate, as if I was merely wasting his time with an idle request. He let go of the papers and folded his hands in front of him.
“I don’t have time for your games, son. You’re the one showing up in my office at an ungodly hour, demanding things. So either you tell me exactly why you’re here, or you can see yourself out.”
I clenched my jaw. “I found the man behind Alice’s accident,” I began, but he cut me off before I could get another word in.
“About bloody time.”
“I’m not finished,” I retorted, my patience rapidly running thin. Normally, I wouldn’t be so abrasive in the presence of my father, but I didn’t have time for pleasantries. There were too many unanswered questions and I needed to know what he was keeping from me.
“I found him,” I continued, “and he gave me this.” I jabbed a finger at the picture. “Why don’t you take a look at the back?”
He fixed me with a hard look, before letting out an exasperated sigh and flipping the piece of paper. His gaze flickered to the bottom, where the bolded name was. His usual calm composure faltered for a moment, before he steeled himself again in his chair and looked at me again.
“What is that?” he asked, feigning cluelessness but I’d studied my father long enough to know he was lying.
“That’s what I came here to find out,” I replied, my voice steady, but my words were laced with a bitterness I couldn’t hide.
“I have no clue why he gave you this,” my father said flatly, his gaze cold.
“Really?” I said incredulously, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “You don’t? Why do I have a hard time believing that?”
Tension rose to a suffocating level as he stood from his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “Leave,” he commanded, his expression turning unreadable.
The word hit me like a slap in the face, and I froze. I stood there, unmoving, not sure whether I was more angry or confused at his sudden detachment.
“Leave?” I repeated, the voice feeling like sludge in my throat. “You haven’t even given me an answ?—”
His stare bored into me, colder than I’d ever known it to be. “I do not owe you answers,” he said, his voice, sharp and final. “I’ll take care of this moving forward. Now, go.”
“No,” I snapped, baffled by his swift dismissal. I’d spent three weeks, barely holding it together, and had pushed away the only woman I’ve ever loved because I wanted to abide by my duty and this was what I got in exchange.
A simple brush off?
My chest heaved with anger, frustration and most of all, disappointment.
I didn’t trust in my father for many things, but I at least thought this would be different. That he wouldn’t send me on a goose chase only to dismiss me like I was a stranger and not his son.
I opened my mouth to argue, but I knew better than that.
So, with one final look, I turned on my heel and did exactly as he’d asked.
I left.
But he wouldn’t have the last word.
This wasn’t over.
I would still Ascend, but it would be on my terms.
Not theirs.