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chapter 94
There were missed safety checks, rushed audits, quiet complaints buried in files and Kendrick watched everything. From afar, he studied reports, spoke quietly with former employees, and listened more than he talked. He sat in small rooms, away from cameras, reading financial statements line by line. He noted which contracts Bernard rewrote. Which safeguards vanished. Which names appeared again and again in places they shouldn’t.Zara found him one evening, surrounded by papers. “You could stop this,” she said softly. “One word from you and the board would hesitate.”“That’s exactly why I won’t,” Kendrick replied.She frowned. “You’re letting him destroy what you built.”“No,” he said calmly. “I’m letting him show everyone how he really runs it. He's going to destroy it himself. I don't have to do anything”While Bernard ruled unchecked, Kendrick learned. He learned who stayed silent out of fear and who stayed loyal out of belief. He learned which investors asked questions and which on
chapter 93
The second family lived across town. A cramped apartment above a shop that smelled of oil and dust. A teenage boy answered the door this time, eyes red, jaw clenched.“My father died because of you,” the boy said flatly.Kendrick nodded. “I know and I'm here with folded hands just to apologize.”The boy’s fists curled. For a second, Kendrick thought he might be hit. He didn’t step back.“You don’t know anything,” the boy said. “You get to walk around. My dad doesn’t.”“I know,” Kendrick said again. And this time, his voice cracked.The boy’s anger wavered, confused by the lack of defense, the lack of excuses. He called his mother. She came out wiping her hands on her clothes, her face tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.They didn’t invite him in. They didn’t offer a chair.They talked, mostly, they accused him of killing a lot of innocent people and that because of him, they won't get back their happy family. Kendrick listened. He didn’t interrupt when the woman cried o
chapter 92
Kendrick sat in the corner of Adrian's house, staring out the tall windows at the city below. The sun was bright, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t answer calls, didn’t return messages, and certainly didn’t give interviews. Not a word to the press. Not a hint of defense.The world assumed he was defeated. The tabloids ran stories about a broken empire, a fallen man. Stock prices wavered. Investors whispered.Bernard Hale, in his penthouse high above the river, leaned back in his leather chair, a smirk spreading across his face.“Look at him,” Bernard said, swirling his brandy. “Since he came back, he's been silent, and broken. Prison really did its work.”Cherry, standing nearby, smiled happily, “then let's celebrate?”Bernard shrugged. “He’s done nothing. That’s what makes it delicious. He doesn’t fight. He doesn’t explain. The more he stays quiet, the more people think he’s powerless just as I've made him become.”Meanwhile, Kendrick moved through Adrian's estate with slow, measured
chapter 91
Bernard heard about the accident before the evening news did. The call came while he was in his study, the room lit only by a desk lamp and the blue glow of a city that never quite slept. He was reviewing documents, routine, harmless-looking papers that meant very dangerous things when his secure phone vibrated once.He answered without greeting.“Yes.”A pause. Then, carefully choose words.“There was an incident,” the voice said. “But the target survived.”Bernard leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He did not look angry. He did not even look disappointed.“Survived,” he repeated. “Define survived.”“Hospitalized. Injuries, but not fatal.”Bernard exhaled slowly through his nose, almost amused.“So,” he said, “he made it out of prison… and straight into a hospital bed.”“Yes.”Another pause, then Bernard smiled.“That will do,” he said. “For now.”The call ended. Bernard stood and walked toward the wide glass windows overlooking the city. Somewhere out ther
chapter 90
He refused to let this place take anything more from him, not even dignity.The gate buzzed. Metal scraped against metal. Then, for the first time in half a year, the doors opened outward instead of closing behind him.He stepped outside. The sunlight hit him so suddenly he stopped walking. It wasn’t just bright, it was alive, warm, and he loved the feel of it on his face. He squinted, lifting his hand as if touching the light might make it vanish. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing, letting the sun rest on his face like a quiet Apology.“I forgot,” he murmured to himself. “This is what it feels like.”The sun in prison had always been filtered through bars, through wire, through schedules and permission. This was different. This sun belonged to no one.“Kendrick.” He turned.Zara stood a few steps away, leaning against a dark sedan. Her hair was pulled back, her face thinner than he remembered, but her eyes, those hadn’t changed. They softened the moment they met him.F
chapter 89
Prison learned Kendrick’s name quickly. Not from the guards but from the bruises he usually gets. The fourth month was worse than the first.It began in the laundry room. The machines roared, drowning out sound. Steam fogged the air. Kendrick was folding a stack of uniforms when a shadow fell across him.“You walk like you still own everything right? You think you're still in your mansion, don't you?,” a man said.Kendrick didn’t look up. “I don’t own anything here. I'm just here to just serve my time”The man laughed, mimicking Kendrick. “That’s what they all say.”Hands shoved Kendrick forward. His face slammed into a metal table. Pain exploded across his nose. Someone twisted his arm behind his back.“Say it,” another voice hissed. “Say you deserved it.”Kendrick’s breath came sharp. Blood dripped onto the floor.“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said.The grip tightened, bones creaked. Then the door burst open. Guards stormed in. Batons cracked the air. The attackers scattered like rats.
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