Chapter 41
CHAPTER 41
MICHAEL
“How many drinks have you had?”
My gaze moved up to see Sofiane slide into the seat across from me, placing his worn computer bag onto the table. He still wore a tailored suit which told me he’d got off work and came straight here.
I held my tumbler up. “Just the one,” I replied.
It was a Monday evening and I’d been at Rubis Rouge for the past several hours, nursing the same drink. I worked early tomorrow morning and couldn’t afford a hangover.
Not that it would help numb my sorrows or quiet my mind.
Nothing did. Trust me, I tried.
A server with tanned skin, and wavy brown hair came over to see if Sofiane wanted anything to drink or if I wanted a refill. Her face looked vaguely familiar, but she must have been the one who’d brought me my drink earlier, though I hadn’t been paying attention to much recently.
She came back a few seconds later with his bottled water, before telling us to let her know if we needed anything. Once she left, Sofiane’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds before he turned his attention to me.
He eyed me for a moment before he spoke. “How,” he hesitated, “how’s the new job?”
I knew he wanted to comment on how I looked like I’d only slept a few hours in the last three weeks—which was the case—but unlike Amar, Sofiane didn’t broach uncomfortable subjects unless absolutely necessary or he was forced to.
“Do you really want the answer to that?” I asked curtly, glancing back at him with a raised brow.
He winced at my tone and began toying with the cap of the water bottle.
I immediately felt bad for how short I’d been.
I sighed. “It’s been busy, like I’d expected,” I replied before he apologized for overstepping. I twirled the remaining amber liquid around in my tumbler. “I’ve had to catch up on months of untouched paperwork and handle some pressing budget issues,” I added, hoping the voluntary concession would make up for my brusqueness.
“That sounds like a nightmare,” Sofiane commented, his expression apologetic.
“Yeah,” I sighed, though it was nothing compared to the nightmare my mind had been a prisoner of.
I knew being a medical director wouldn’t be the most thrilling job, but I hadn’t expected to be glued to a desk almost everyday. I missed operating, but if I was being honest, I missed her .
I missed being with her.
Walking away from her once had been torture.
Doing it a second time had ripped me apart.
Except the punishment of losing her was entirely my fault.
I was the reason I’d spent the last month in unrelenting hell where everywhere I turned, she haunted me. Where every little thing I came across or thought of reminded me of her and I hadn’t been able to find peace no matter what I did.
But I deserved it.
I’d done this to her. To myself. To us .
I often thought about how her life would have been better if I’d just stayed away. If I’d just done what I’d been supposed to and completed my Order without wanting to ingrain myself in everything that involved her.
But then I wouldn’t have met the best thing that had ever happened to me.
I caught glimpses of her whenever I came out of her father’s office—well my office now, and every time I wanted to run after her. To fall to my knees, confess everything and beg for her forgiveness.
Except it wasn’t the time just yet.
I hadn’t followed the rules before and look where it got me.
As much as it destroyed me, I had to stay away until I’d fixed everything else.
Starting with why Sofiane was here.
I glanced above his shoulder and did a quick scan of the room. The pub was largely empty except for a man that seemed to be in his fifties and was on his eighth drink of the night, and a few other miscellaneous customers that seemed to be regulars.
We could have gone to Azel, but after the fiasco of the masquerade ball, it was better to avoid it. Although I’d done everything in my power to contain the gossip mill after The Gilded Truth ’s latest issue by collecting every issue and threatening anyone if the content left the ballroom, it didn’t stop the prying eyes that followed such a scandal.
It was a small blessing that the damning issue hadn’t made it to the general public, but the damage had already been done. Reputation was everything in our world and anyone of importance had been present that night.
My name had briefly been mentioned, but it was nothing compared to what the author of the column had exposed about Adnan Ziani and his unsavory connection to Arthur Nyx.
I was just about to ask Sofiane if he’d found anything while analyzing the issue I’d given him since neither him nor Amar had been present that night, when the latter finally showed up.
“Hello boys,” Amar greeted us, slapping his hands down on Sofiane’s shoulders with a cheeky grin. “Miss me?”
“You’re late,” I told him, shooting him a look as Sofiane shrugged him off.
“Only by a few minutes,” he replied and I rolled my eyes as he settled into the seat next to Sofiane. “Alright, what’d I miss?”
“Nothing yet,” I answered. Before he commented on how I’d just admonished him for being late when nothing had been discussed, I leaned back against the booth and got straight to the point.
“Tell me either of you have good news.”
Sofiane hesitated for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Letting out a small sigh, he pulled his laptop out. “I don’t know if you’ll consider this good news,” Sofiane started, sliding on his glasses. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard before turning his computer screen toward me. “But I found this.”
Multiple tabs were open with different sections of the issue I’d given him displayed. Some were enlarged, while others were side-by-side comparisons with other issues of the gossip column that had been published over the last fourteen months.
My gaze shifted from the screen back to him with a raised brow. “What am I looking at?”
Sofiane tilted his laptop slightly so that Amar and I could both see.
“At first glance, the issue from the masquerade ball seemed just like any other. But when I studied its content and prose, I noted some discrepancies. You see here.” Sofiane pointed at one of the side-by-side. “The writing style is almost identical but the real author is very peculiar with the string of words they use. In all thirty seven issues, they’ve never strayed from their intentional prose. Until this one. ”
He paused, giving a moment for the information to sink in. “It could very much be a coincidence,” he added, “but I highly doubt it.”
“He’s right,” Amar chimed in. “I couldn’t retrieve any fingerprints or DNA, but I analyzed the paper and ink used for printing. Although remarkably similar, and almost undetectable to the untrained eye, the fibers in the paper and the pigment in the ink are different from anything released in the past.”
“So you’re telling me this was a copycat?”
They both nodded in unison, confirming my suspicions.
After I came home from the ball, I’d spent the entire night reading that column over and over and I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something was off.
So, I’d immediately gotten to work and called them in for reinforcements. I’d hesitated at first because although it wasn’t an Atlas related-matter, it was close enough to potentially warrant a visit from The Fixer or worse our fathers.
But I’d taken my chances, and so far, we’d been in the clear which meant one of two things. This was a completely isolated incident or our father’s were watching from afar.
Either way I didn’t care.
I’d get to the bottom of this—with or without their approval.
My birthday was only days away and there were certain things I needed to clear up before I could complete my Ascension.
And it started with whoever this impersonator was.
The Gilded Truth had been the cause of many’s downfall, but I refused to let it be mine.
Or Azara’s.
“Someone was responsible for the masquerade ball but it wasn’t The Gilded Truth . Whoever did this, it was personal,” Amar echoed what I’d been thinking.
I fixed my attention on Sofiane. “I need you to find who did this.”
“I can keep looking, but it'll take me some time.”
“We don’t have time,” I shot back, frustration creeping into my voice.
He tugged his laptop back to him and adjusted his glasses, pushing them higher up his nose. “I understand that, but I’ve already spent almost three weeks on this, and still haven’t found anything. I’m excellent, but I can’t perform miracles, Michael.” Sofiane’s tone remained soft, but I could hear the undercurrent of displeasure in his voice.
My irritation wasn’t aimed at him, but I hated feeling out of control. Not being able to get to the bottom of this would mean losing the love of my life.
I was prepared to give up anything. But not her.
Never her.
“How long?”
Sofiane shrugged uncomfortably. “From a few weeks to a few months? But it could take me longer.”
I sighed heavily and rubbed my temples, the aura of a headache blooming on the horizon. This was far from what I’d hoped to hear, but I knew I couldn’t rush him. If I had a choice, I’d devote myself to helping him hunt whoever this was, but time wasn’t on my side with my Ascension looming closer.
As much as I despised being patient, it seemed that I now had no choice but to wait and move to the next thing on my list while I looked for another angle to pursue and Sofiane worked on deciphering this.
I sighed, standing from my seat. “Just keep me updated,” I said, my knuckles rasping against the wooden table between us. “I have something to take care of.”
I grabbed my wool overcoat from next to me and slid out of the booth. I walked briskly to the exit, the evening air cool against my skin as I made my way to my Rolls-Royce parked out front. I climbed inside and made the thirty minute drive to the only thing I knew with confidence I could take care of.
During the entire ride, I turned over every detail of the situation in my head, hoping to find a connection I might have missed.
If the author of the latest issue wasn’t the original writer, then why target Azara’s father? Why would they want to lay out his crimes for everyone to see when they’d done it privately just a few weeks prior?
Were they after Nyx? And if they were, why attach Ziani to it?
Arthur’s actions were incriminating enough that involving the doctor didn’t make sense. NyxMedica had already been under investigation by the authorities for medical negligence and fraud, the column only drew more attention to the engineer’s fraudulent activities.
I kept sifting through the information when a hypothesis struck me like a bolt of lightning. Once I parked in front of the townhouse, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Sofiane’s number.
He picked up on the first ring. “What is it?” I could hear Amar’s voice in the background, which meant the two were still together.
“Remember what I found on Simons?” I asked, stepping out of my car and walking toward the front door.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Do you still have it?”
He hummed in agreement.
“Get Amar to test it while you see if you can find any connections,” I said before hanging up. It might be a long shot, but it was worth looking into.
After dealing with Simons, I’d stopped by Sofiane’s flat to make a copy of the original picture of my sister, as well as the note that had been left with Simons, before confronting my father about it.
Just in case , I had thought to myself.
It was a good thing that I didn’t trust my father implicitly and had known he’d shut me out before I started asking too many questions. His threat from weeks ago might have held weight then, but an Atlas didn’t yield.
It was time for me to step into my rightful role.
I shelved those thoughts for later and knocked on the red door three times. The last time I’d been here, the circumstances had been entirely different and I’d had a singular goal in mind.
Take him down.
This time, I hoped that the man I once saw as an obstacle would accept my help, even if I was responsible for his current predicament.
The door swung open, and the father of the love of my life stood before me, astounded to see me on his front steps.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion and growing indignation.
“We need to talk.”