Chapter 28 #2
“It means I found something. The security system on his computer is in place. And it’s bulletproof. No Zozo or anyone else is going to mess up our plans anymore. We have copies of his files.”
“Did you find anything in them?”
“I’m still working on some of it. James protects himself in several ways and never uses the same password. Unfortunately, it’s taking a while, but so far I’ve only found details of specific actions, transfers, and transports.”
I don’t understand where his sunny mood is coming from.
“So, not much. It’s not something that will scare James. He has all the important people in his pocket, and it will be the same as with our little cyber spy,” Theo interjects.
“No, no. That’s not what I mean. A completely different source is giving me something valuable. See for yourself.”
Eli pulls a photo out of his jacket pocket, unfolds it, and throws it on the desk.
Theo and I lean in to get a better look. The photo shows my father pressing a woman against the wall. He’s wearing a suit; she’s in a burgundy evening gown. His hands are pulling her waist to him; her hand rests on his shoulder. They smile at each other, sharing a secret.
“I have more, much more,” he sings. “In much more compromising circumstances and positions, if you know what I mean.”
“Who is she?” Theo asks, his eyes fixed on the beautiful, black-haired woman.
The age difference between them is huge and obvious.
“Maria Melea.” I don’t need to say anything else because everything suddenly becomes clear.
Shocked, Theo looks at me, leaning back. Eli continues to smile like the Joker.
“That Maria Melea?” Theo finally blurts out.
“The very same,” Eli and I confirm together.
“I almost thought she was a figment of someone’s imagination. I’ve heard rumors, but no one has ever seen her. How do you know what she looks like?”
“Remember when I told you once that my father had already found a bride for me? That bride is Maria,” I remind them.
“So you had to buy your way out of marrying her by killing someone—I remember that fucked-up mission. But how does Eli know about her?”
“You underestimate my skills, brother,” he jokes. “I can find anyone online.”
“Unless it’s Zoe Monroe.”
Eli stares at our friend.
Interrupting their verbal sparring, I ask, “Did my father and Maria have an affair or a onetime fling?”
“He fucked her for several months. Do you know what that means?” My irritation with Eli’s game grows. It’s as if he can’t just tell me what he knows, but wants to play riddles instead.
“War,” I add. “My father fucked his partner’s daughter, who was under lock and key, behind his back. If Ismael found out about this, he wouldn’t only cut off all supplies in one fell swoop but also wage open war against my father.”
“How she ended up in your father’s clutches is beyond me,” Theo adds.
“It doesn’t matter. The fact is, Ryker’s father is screwed. This is the leverage we’ve been looking for. In this situation, even the Pact won’t help him because he won’t find a rock in this world to crawl under and hide.”
Potential scenarios of how I can use this information immediately pop into my head. Piece by piece.
My brothers remain silent, waiting for me to speak. Meanwhile, I drift away, completely immersed in my thoughts. Until we hear a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call out.
One of the security guards enters the office, and I know what I’m going to hear. “Mr. Elliot, we have a problem.”
Problems are my specialty. With a sigh, I ask, “What happened?”
“You have to see something. A body was found in one of our underground warehouses.”
Half an hour later, we’re on the outskirts of the city. Two of our men are standing by the warehouse, making sure that no one uninvited gets inside. They nod in respect as we enter. We descend a winding staircase.
“Go to the very end,” says another of our men who’s standing at the bottom.
The dark corridor is lit only by emergency lights. One of them flickers on and off. The annoying blinking reminds me of the horror movies I watched as a child. Back then, I was afraid that a monster would appear from around the corner and devour me. Now I’m the monster. What irony.
The old pipes resonate with a hiss. The rhythmic sound of dripping water grows louder with each step I take.
The brick walls of the corridor are dirty with age. Cobwebs hang from the sides. The concrete floor is crumbling in places.
A few steps ahead of me, a rat runs across the corridor and hides behind one of the pipes. Before I can blink, I see it on the pipe running just below the ceiling. It scurries away, wagging its tail. Judging from its barrel-shaped body, it seems to be doing well in life.
The smell of dampness and age mingle together. Something stinks as if it died here centuries ago. If I were a sensitive son of a bitch, it would make me sick. But I’m not. And I don’t have a gag reflex at all.
A few steps farther, at the end of the corridor, on my left, I find what we came here for.
The underground room is almost completely shrouded in darkness. The only light comes from behind me, from the hallway. However, it’s enough for me to see the corpse.
The basement floor is completely flooded with water.
It’s not deep, maybe just a few inches. It forms a perfectly smooth mirror.
Because of the lack of light, the water looks like tar; only closer to me, it has a navy blue tint.
In the corner, one of the pipes must be leaking because that’s where the annoying dripping sound is coming from.
My gaze stops on the silhouette of a man lying motionless nearby.
Part of his face is hidden under the water.
One eye is visible, open but motionless, staring at me.
His face is contorted in agony, as if he died suddenly during torture.
There’s a visible cut on his cheek, but it’s no longer bleeding.
The man is flat on his stomach, his hands up to his elbows under the water. He’s completely naked from the waist up. There are dark stripes on his back, as if someone had been practicing whipping on him. They don’t look like old wounds, but they’re no longer bleeding either.
His gray skin tells me I’m too late to save his life. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, regardless of how this entire story began. And yet...
My gaze wanders across the surface of the water to the very beginning, right below my feet.
In the still mirror, I see three silhouettes of men of similar height.
Each of us stands with our legs slightly apart, our hands in our trouser pockets.
We’re similar and yet so fucking different. My brothers focus on the dead man.
In our black suits, we look like emissaries from hell. Maybe that’s the truth. Each of us carries our own darkness, and each of us is cursed and fucked up in our own way.
“What now?” one of them asks.
I sigh, knowing that a completely different hell awaits me than the one we’ve recently gone through. Without a word, I turn and walk back the way we came. I don’t know the answer to his question. I wonder only if any of us will survive the consequences of the hell that Ash will bring down upon us.