Veiled (Sons of the Atlas #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

If three months ago you’d told me I’d be roaming the narrow streets of London in this bloody fucking cold—on my birthday nevertheless—as I followed someone who was a practical stranger, I’d have laughed in your face.

But three months ago, Young Seungwon was just another wealthy bloke in the city and my perception of who I was hadn’t been completely shattered.

A group of teens in their school uniform, laughing, swarmed out of a local shop right in front me, snapping my attention out of my thoughts.

“Careful,” one of the boys told the one who almost ran into me, reaching for his sleeve to keep him out of my way.

I ignored them and brought the hood over my head tighter around my face. Keeping my head down, I shielded myself and swerved past them as I kept trailing the golden boy.

The unexpected heavy raindrops from earlier thundered harder above me, drenching my thick black overcoat even further. Following someone in broad daylight seemed easy enough in theory, but tailing them through this weather was proving to be more challenging than I’d anticipated.

Especially when I wasn’t much of a morning person.

And to my dismay, he was. Or I guess he had to be because of his job.

It was already afternoon, but I’d been awake since dawn yesterday because the precious doctor had been scheduled for an on-call shift this weekend which meant I equally barely slept.

But most of my days now consisted of little to no sleep, watching, and waiting.

Because all I could do was wait.

At least for now.

Young must have gotten a call from the hospital with how abruptly he’d left the late lunch he was having with his sister.

I’d been sitting at a cafe across from UMMA, the small Korean restaurant tucked away from the busy streets of London where he and his younger sister often came to when she was in town, when I saw him bolt out of the place. I’d quickly discarded my barely touched cup of tea and unfinished pastry before exiting the coffee shop.

He seemed to be on a mission as he quickly took a right turn onto Main Street. I slowed my steps and waited a brief moment before I took the same turn. I always maintained a healthy distance during my surveillance tours, always keeping each of them in view but never too close in case they decided to change course or peered over their shoulder and noticed me.

But none of them knew they were being tailed. That every single one of their moves was tracked by someone they’d never see coming.

Just the thought of my existence coming to light and having to watch the looks on their faces sent adrenaline coursing through my veins. The anticipation—albeit far away—fueled my steps despite the persistent rain drumming against my body.

Amanar General Hospital, commonly known as AGH, was the largest trauma center in the city and technically only a seven minute walk from the restaurant, but with this incessant downpour, it felt like ages.

Young wasn’t starting there until the new year, but he’d been called in to cover another doctor’s shift and of course, he accepted it.

He crossed the junction, weaving through the taxis already engaged on the turn despite their light still being red. I slightly hurried up my steps when I noticed the light turning amber to avoid losing him in the crowd forming as they filtered out of the Tube station, but as I chanced to cross over, an idiot driving a single-seater red Ferrari roared around the corner, its honk blaring as it doused me under a cascade of water in its wake.

I closed my eyes and let out a frustrated groan.

Bloody hell.

I stepped back onto the pavement, drenched even further than I already was. In a split second decision, as the light turned red, I jogged across the road and made it to the other side before the light switched to green.

Thankfully, Michael was too concentrated on making it to the hospital that he hadn’t paid attention to what had just occurred.

I continued following him, passing the railway station, and took position across the street. Taking shelter behind a weathered brown brick building, standing in a small alley, I watched him run the remaining distance to AGH’s main entrance.

The large entrance glass doors slid open, and he stepped inside, pulling off the hood of his black rain jacket. He ran a hand through his thick black hair, pushing back the damp strands that clung to his forehead from the rain. He then shifted, and I caught a glimpse of his face as he wiped the rain from it with his jumper.

After he disappeared inside the hospital, I waited a few more minutes before a gust of frigid air snaked beneath my clothes, sending a shiver down my spine. I finally stepped out of my hiding spot, the sun dipping below the horizon, and made my way to the nearest station.

Once inside, I wove through the busy concourse, the buzz of voices and the squeak of damp trainers against the tiled floors creating a now familiar backdrop. After spending so much time in the city, you eventually grew used to the chaos that came with it.

I made my way to the platform that would take me to the place I’d been calling home for the last few weeks. I’d had other plans for today, but with my current state of disarray from the relentless weather, it seemed best to retreat to my flat until later tonight.

I jogged the remaining distance and squeezed between the Tube’s doors right before they closed. The southbound line that traveled to my area was generally quieter, but it being Friday, there were a few more commuters leaving work early.

I stood for the short ride and hopped off once the train reached my stop. My flat wasn’t far from the station and by the time I climbed the short steps that led inside the weathered building I’d been living in, the rain had already turned into a light drizzle .

Once inside the one-bedroom I’d been renting, I shed my sodden clothes until I was down to my underwear and let them fall in a wet heap on the wooden floor by the entrance. I then grabbed a large, frayed towel from the small bathroom and headed down the pitch-dark narrow hallway that opened up to the space that served both as my living room and my bedroom.

I dried myself off as I flicked on the lamp on the end table, the soft yellow light casting a warm glow around the room. Running the towel over my head to dry my hair, I moved closer to the right wall, slowly taking it in.

Photographs and article clippings covered the space, some connected by a web of red strings crisscrossing from material I’d collected over the last ninety-two days.

The low hum of the heater finally kicked in, providing a slight respite from the chill that had settled in my bones. Tossing the used towel onto the sofa, I shuffled over to the kitchenette and while I waited for water to boil, I grabbed a jumper and joggers to slide on.

A pang of fatigue suddenly hit me from the long day I’d had, but I ignored it.

There was no time for it.

The sharp whistle of the kettle echoed against the walls and I moved to make myself a cup of tea, adding a splash of milk to it until I was satisfied with the taste. I took a long sip from the steaming cup in my hand, letting the warmth seep into my insides, and walked back to stand in front of my work in progress.

My eyes slowly trailed to his picture.

Young Seungwon. Also went by Michael Young.

Cardiothoracic surgery trainee at Orion University Hospital and soon to be consultant at AGH.

But most importantly, he was the oldest Atlas set to Ascend in just a few months.

Or at least, that’s what he’d always been made to believe.

I set my mug down on the small cluttered coffee table behind me and picked up the worn notebook resting there. Flipping through the pages with scrawled notes and hastily drawn diagrams, I quickly jotted down the details I’d gathered today on a new page before I waited too long and forgot the small details.

After tucking the black pen back between the pages, I placed the journal back on the table and turned my attention again to the web of information. My eyes darted from one image to another, trying to piece together what I’d discovered in a short period of time and how much more there was still to uncover.

Because Michael wasn’t the only name on my list.

You see, there’s a group of people out there that secretly run our country.

A group no one knew about.

Their influence seeped into every corner of our city. So much so they were involved in everything, their names cropping up everywhere.

From sports to the Mayor’s Cabinet.

They were the perfect monster of modern society, hiding in plain sight.

A group that was invisible to most people.

Except me.

These men played God without permission.

But now, they’d get what was coming for them.

My gaze shifted to another one of my targets just as my computer pinged with a new notification. I moved around the coffee table and sank into the second-hand couch I’d picked up from a charity shop last week. Since my scholarship funds wouldn’t hit my bank account until next week—another courtesy of the failed system we lived in—I’d been making do with sleeping on the floor until I’d finally splurged and bought this old thing.

I grabbed my laptop, settled in, and typed in my password to access the encrypted server I’d been using.

A faint smile played on my lips. There you are.

I know you’re probably wondering who I am, but giving you my name would be a slippery slope and quite frankly irrelevant for the moment. It was only a matter of time before everyone involved discovered the truth.

Including me.

I’d been slowly shedding myself from who I once was and garnering a new veil.

They might be the Atlas kings of the city…

But I was here to ensure their legacy never saw the light of a new generation.