2025-08-01 22:44:02“Is this it?” the tall man with black hair and green eyes droned as he walked into the small room.
“Yeah,” the younger man with dark hair and hazel eyes replied, shutting the door behind his guest.
“Looks good,” the visitor proclaimed as he turned around, taking in his surroundings.
“Yeah?” the younger man replied vacantly, like a machine giving a pre-programmed response.
“Come on, Tyler, you need to embrace life a little bit more!” the slightly older man retorted casually.
“Yeah…,” Tyler breathed, automated reply, eyes on his visitor, mind elsewhere.
The jovial guest paused.
Then, he sighed.
He approached his young friend.
“It’s temporary,” he stated confidentially, “you need a place out of the way till we finish up your papers for the new job. It doesn’t get more out of the way than the Sticks.”
“Ye–”
The man grabbed Tyler between his shoulder and neck.
The younger man pressed his lips together, his eyes drifting to his sponsor.
“I can’t stand it, Lincoln,” Tyler stated quietly. “They’re all living their lives. All of them. And I –”
“You, Tyler, are preparing for battle. If you fuck this up now, they will swallow you. Nothing you have stashed away will save you,” Lincoln pressed, his grip tightening at the end of each statement.
Tyler shrugged off Lincoln’s heavy hand and walked deeper into the dim room.
Lincoln watched him patiently. He took in the younger man the same way he had assessed the room.
He has changed…
Lincoln mused.
Drastically.
Lincoln eyed the tall man before him, taking in his wider shoulders and leaner frame.
Leaner but not weaker. Not at all.
His hair had been longer then, Lincoln reminisced as his mind called up the teenager he had gotten to know pretty well – professionally.
It covered much of his face, and he carried himself like most lower-grade servants…
Hunched over as if trying to hide…
Lincoln continued as he watched the clear-eyed, chisel-faced man with the straight back and powerful presence.
Lincoln shook his head in his mind.
Prison, he mused, is not an easy place for most people.
But this kid…
He blossomed there…
Lincoln Brazer, the head of the most powerful mafia group in the city of Salvena, paused his thoughts and narrowed his green eyes at Tyler Esteil.
The formerly shaggy-haired, hesitant, demure, errand boy of the Kramer family, the wealthiest family in the nation, direct descendants of the kingdom’s first ruler.
“Where did you get the clothes?” Lincoln remarked casually, exhaling silently.
Tyler turned from the grimy window, his smooth brow furrowed.
“Didn’t you send them?” Tyler asked inquiringly.
Lincoln’s jaw tightened as he eyed Tyler from head to toe.
“No,” he replied flatly.
Tyler shrugged and turned back to the window.
“Someone’s sent me packages all through my stay at the Vault, I assumed it was you,” Tyler remarked distractedly.
The Vault. The highest security prison in the land. A place for the worst criminals.
A place Tyler Esteil had been sent to, most likely, to die; forgotten, alone.
But he had not died.
He had survived.
And, he had been released early. Thanks in no small part to the other man in the room. His sponsor. His friend, if he dared to be colorful.
But Tyler Esteil was not one for colors.
His mind had wandered from the moment Lincoln had stopped talking.
His mind had not stopped drifting since he stepped outside the Vault and entered the car his sponsor had arranged.
He was out, and it was time to collect on a very old, very painful bill. He was on edge.
He had not stopped pacing since he had arrived an hour earlier.
Bastards.
Tyler mused darkly.
Let my mother die under servitude and send me to the Vault just for striking your heir?!
Petty, spiteful bastards!
Tyler cursed in his mind.
The young man’s hands were balled into fists.
Lincoln stared.
Then, he moved to the single bed in the tiny room.
He sat. It creaked. Tyler’s head turned to him at the sound.
The two men were in a backwater motel located in the back alley of one of the worst neighborhoods in Salvena – the Sticks.
“I can’t stand this,” Tyler said again, even more quietly than the first time.
Lincoln nodded.
“Where do you want to start?” he asked calmly.
“I want to burn everything down,” Tyler growled.
“Starting from their house, their estate. I will break everything. I will end their entire family line. They took everything I have!”
“They have the whole world, yet they took mine. Without a thought!”
Lincoln held Tyler’s fiery gaze.
“They wouldn’t help me send a fucking maid who had worked for them for fourteen fucking years to the fucking hospital! Because I was putting myself through a better school than the one they had paid for?!” he growled incredulously.
“You know that’s not it,” Lincoln rumbled.
Tyler’s eyes snapped to the slightly older man.
“You lied to them,” he continued, unperturbed by the fiery gaze of his young friend.
“No. In fact, you DECEIVED them. That’s the point,” he stated flatly.
“Bastards!” Tyler bellowed as he spun and kicked the radiator. It shattered.
The young man fell silent.
He bowed his head, chest heaving as he backed Lincoln, not fully. No self-respecting inmate ever turned their back to anyone – ever.
Then, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.
He knelt beside the broken appliance, slowing his breathing.
Lincoln did not move.
The younger man exhaled and waved his hand over the damaged parts. The appliance repaired itself.
“I have an idea,” Lincoln rumbled into the silence.
Tyler shifted to a squatting position as he checked his work; he did not respond.
The older man continued evenly, “Let’s get you out of here. Even if you walked into the Kramer house right now, no one would know it’s you. You don’t have to hide this deeply.”
Tyler stood, his hazel eyes fixed on the gangster he had befriended almost six years ago after an incident during one of the many deliveries Tyler had made for Lord Edward Kramer to Lincoln Brazer.
Tyler’s brow furrowed.
“You just got out of jail. And it’s not like you’re one of us commoners. You servants have a soft kind of life, surrounded by luxuries.”
Tyler spun away.
Lincoln stood.
“And you are the Master of the Miran Auction house,” he remarked, his eyes on the young man as he deliberately reminded Tyler of his existing achievements.
Tyler glanced sidelong at Lincoln, his body facing the small window.
Lincoln took a step forward.
“This is not the type of place for you,” he continued placatingly.
Tyler turned fully.
“Your anger is understandable, but if you want to succeed, you must contain it. You didn’t grow your private business by wearing your heart on your sleeve. Calm yourself. Use your anger, don’t let it use you,” Lincoln stated firmly.
“You’re getting into the Belarnt’s subsidiary soon, you need to get used to dealing with civilians. Not more gutter rats,” he continued lightly, waving a slim hand around, toward the window.
“Prison is hard, but you adapted to it. You’re out now. And, you need to stay under the radar, for at least a full year, since they don’t know about your release.”
“Adapt again. Keep your head down. Prepare. Your enemy is, as you say, someone who owns the world. Don’t make mistakes. You’ll have your documentation within the week. ID, code numbers, the whole trip. But for now, let’s get you a better location,” Lincoln droned, a small smile on his face.
Tyler slightly raised his chin at the tall, muscular man with fair skin; a deceptive contrast to his dark personality.
“Where are we going?” Tyler rumbled.
Lincoln grinned, his green eyes flashing.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 99
“What are you doing with Lord Kramer’s photo?”“Hmmm?”“What are you doing?”“Which Lord Kramer, Father?” Anton Voltera droned to his father as he sat at his computer screen, adjusting the close-up shot, high-resolution photo he had been playing with for over three hours.Maricius approached his son’s chair.He had come to his favorite child’s office at Voltera Enterprises to get an update on his visit with the Kramer servant.He had walked in, without knocking, the boy had not acknowledged him, so he had walked around his large, yet minimalistic, designed desk to see what had engrossed his son to such a degree.“Lord Henry,” the elder Voltera remarked.Anton’s head snapped up even as the boy remained seated.“It is, right?!” he exclaimed, his grey eyes bright.His son was not one for exclamations. Maricius’ eyes narrowed at the boy. He glanced back at the screen and stared at the light blue eyes, which were the o
Chapter 98
Tyler’s eyes drifted to Emily’s, and she held his gaze. A moment later, his hand dropped, and he glanced away from her, back to the city.Emily stayed where she was and shook his chair.He turned back to her, slowly, like his body was too heavy for him, like he was underwater.“What have you done?” she asked patiently, her voice calm as she repeated her initial question.“I helped Raymond.”“How?”“Magic.”“Why?”“I owe him.”“What did you give him?”“An earring, of a sort.”“I didn’t see one.”“You won’t. No one will.”“Why?”“To heal his body.”Unlike Ashley, Emily knew full well the limitations of a hospital on some matters.She held Tyler’s gaze.“Will he wake up?”“Maybe.”“Do you think he’ll wake up?”“Yes.”“Why?”“He’s a strong kid. A strong mind. A focused drive. Passionate. He loves life. Loves living. He should wake up.
Chapter 97
While Tyler was being grilled by Ashley Belarnt, Lord Henry Kramer was searching for an old servant. His people drove to one of the servants’ estates used by the nobles’ retired staff.It was rare for any former masters to visit their past servants, but as soon as Lord Kramer’s vehicle reached the property line, every living former servant of the Kramer Estate got the information.He went directly to the administration office, which was equivalent to the town hall premises, and met the curator of the property.There were sixty houses on the grounds and thirty apartment complexes. The estate, like all the others, was a community unto itself.Most of the residents were over the age of fifty, but many had relatives who stayed with them; as such, there were people of all ages and walks of life on the grounds.By the time Henry was greeted by the curator, the chief administrator of the estate, and had been seated, fifteen of the oldest Kramer servants w
Chapter 96
Tyler had woken last night, after over forty hours of sleep. He had taken a potion to help him move, despite all his wounds and pain, despite knowing what the reaction would be in the morning, and had turned down the strength of his black rock clock.Limiting its range to twenty feet and activating a cloaking spell once he got out of range.He went to Raymond’s room. A private one on the topmost floor of the hospital.Tyler’s floor was in the middle of the hospital building, ensuring that if anything happened at his location, the entire structure would suffer for it.He stared at the boy who was in a body cast and had been unconscious for over four weeks. He had gotten all the information from his men about the boy’s injuries.He had been beaten, with magic fully involved, breaking bones, damaging nerves, and rupturing organs.A weaker person, physically, would have died.Whether it was intentional or by accident that the boy was stil
Chapter 95
“How did that bastard get into my Tower?” Lord Ashton Belarnt rumbled.“I,” Raymond grunted, “I approved it,” he replied hoarsely, facing his uncle, even as he hung suspended, he held his uncle’s gaze.“How did he rise so fast through the ranks?” Lord Ashton rumbled. “He was under you, yet of all your staff, you kept him in your office. Directly. How did that happen?”“I pushed for it,” Raymond rasped, not using more words than necessary to end his torture.“How, then, in the name of every fucking sage there is, did that nobody get the free hand and access he got to our oldest contracts and locations within months of his arrival? Something reserved for the most senior officials?”“I allowed it. He was useful. I used him,” Raymond croaked, forcing his voice to come out loud and clear.No matter the question from his uncle, Raymond accepted the blame. More than once, he heard the only female of the group gasp, but she remained silent. Ashley B
Chapter 94
When Raymond woke, he was in a stone room. No windows, low ceiling, thick door. A dungeon.He almost laughed, but his face wouldn’t move. His cheekbone was broken, his jaw shattered. The pain was the only thing that let him know he wasn’t asleep or hallucinating.For two days, he was left there, alone. No food, no water, no company.In his silent prison, he kept his mind as light as he could, focusing on little things, like how the space wasn’t dark. Gems in the wall and ceiling lit up the room.He was also glad it was dry, as he knew much about the Belarnt private cells; every noble family, at least, everyone at the very top of nobility, had such things, and he knew how bad the Belarnt ones could get.The Belarnt’s, miners by trade and profession, had very special cells. Old, former mines. Places no one would ever go, or simply stumble into. Places where, if they liked, the gatekeeper could forget their prisoner and have no need to make burial arr
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