2024-11-05 18:20:02
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From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 44. Let's Get Married
Van had already suspected that Elaine was going to react aggressively, the only reason he even asked them to come over for lunch was because he wanted her father to witness her attitude for himself. He also chose not to go to a restaurant so he could keep things on the wrap as much as possible. "You just watch me. Just fucking watch! You think I'm just going sit with my tail between my legs?! Huh? What, I'm supposed to say 'oh he said he loves her so I guess that means I've lost.' fuck no!!Elaine Mochi doesn't fucking lose!!Once I make up my mind to do something, then by God I am going to do it!"Van just watched as she kept yelling and ranting, slamming her first on the table every once in a while. He glanced at Eric and his face creased into a frown when he saw the expression on the man's face. The man watched as his daughter went on a rampage with a satisfied look on his face. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he leaned back into the dining chair, a hint of excitem
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 45. Another Article
The Hartley and Wilson family were gathered together in the home of the latter. Their initial reason for the meeting was to discuss wedding preparations and other things but somehow the conversation derailed completely. "I am telling you Blanche, my son would never do such an outrageous thing." Moses's mother, Rachel yelled. "He is a man of dignity and when he decides to do something, he fully commits to it! You can't just sit there and throw accusations as you please!""Throw accusations? Are you trying to imply that my daughter is the one lying?" Blanche shot back. "She caught him red handed, she saw it happen with her own two eyes! How dare you tell me that she's lying?"Bianca had paid a surprise visit to the hotel that Moses usually frequent but she had never expected to find him in bed with another woman. "Enough!" Moses yelled. "If you have a problem with what I did or who I was with, then you are more than welcome to call off the wedding!" He barked and stormed out of the li
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 46. Wedding Planning
'Van Everest, a victim or a dangerous criminal?'When Van read the headline, he squeezed his hand in a tight fist. Who was this person? And what was his/her intention? What would the person stand to gain by slandering his mame on social media. If Van was a criminal, he would have been scared that his deeds might come into light but since he wasn't, that fear was out the window. Instead the only thing that persisted in his mind was the single question he had been asking himself ever since he saw the first one. Why?The content of the article was basically saying that he was a liar and deserved to go to prison when he did. Rather than an accident, the Fisherman claimed that it had been Van's intention to kill Moses at that time. And just like the first one was posted, there were a whole bunch of hateful comments about him. Underneath all the comments demanding the case be reopened or he received a new sentence, one particular comment seemed to stand out, and it caught Van's eyes.
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 47. Divine Taste
"Well? Has he said anything?" "Obviously not, if he has I would have mentioned it. Wouldn't I?" Bianca was getting irritated. She knew Van must have seen the comment and that he knew what it meant, so why the hell wasn't he trying to reach her?!"Maybe he didn't know it was you." Blanche said. "Of course he does! Rose garden is the place he proposed to me, how on earth would he forget something like that?!""But it has been hours, why havn't we heard anything yet?""I don't know mother! If I did why would I be sitting here, staring at my phone?""Watch your tone woman. Regardless of whatever you might be feeling now, I am still your mother, and I will not tolerate any form of disrespect from you." The woman warned in a stern voice. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand why he's not saying anything. It doesn't make sense!""Patience Bianca. If he doesn't reply tomorrow, then we'll have to send him a message he wouldn't be able to ignore."Bianca didn't know what her mother meent but s
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 48. Truth
"When you were a little boy, you said it was your dream to own a restaurant one day. Everyone laughed when you said it but the next day, you started making drawings of what you wanted it to look like. The designs, the colors, all you. You even came up with the name yourself."As he listened to Fred, Van was hit with a sudden feeling of nostalgia. An image pooped up in his mind, a large dining room, a little boy with his parents and siblings. Was it him?Could that be the night Fred was talking about?Not remembering who he was or what his childhood was like was very frustrating, and Van couldn't help but blame Grace. "Do you remember sire, you made a bet with your father about it.""A bet." Van repeated a if in a daze, trying to dig deep into his memories. "I-It was something about drawing…or am I wrong?""You're not sire. Your father said if you completed your drawings for the restaurant and came up with a good name–""-- he would open it up for me." Van had a blank expression on hi
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 49. An Explanation
Just like that, their learning trip was cut short after just one stop and they headed back to his place. His mother had been spending more time with them because she said she wanted to make up for all the years they were apart. And because she said she didn't trust Grace around her grandkids. When he arrived back home, Grace was the only one around. "Where's Ivy?" Van asked without looking at her directly. "She went out not quite long ago with Sheryl." She paused for a while before she added. "Van, don't you think we need to talk?""Talk?""Yes. You won't even look at me anymore. I understand how you must feel–""No, I don't think you do. You can't simply understand how I'm feeling right now because even I don't know what the fuck I'm feeling! And honestly, I don't think now is the right time for us to do this. I need to get my head straight before I talk to you." "But Van –""No don't! Really just …don't." Van had started to walk away when she yelled out. "I did what I did to pr
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 50. Broken Hearted
Van never thought that she would utter a statement like that. If anything she was supposed to be apologizing profusely for her offense. Before he could stop himself, his body had gone into overdrive and he landed a hard slap across her face. "How dare you?!" He bellowed. "How dare you open your mouth and say that to her? Are you even human at all? Do you not know the gravity of the offense you committed? Under the law this is basically kidnapping, you should be thankful that you live here and not the police station. Do you think I let you stay here because I love you? Hell no!I was only being nice because I know you have nowhere else to go. Everyday we let you live here you are supposed to find new ways to repent for what you did, but instead of doing that, you have the guts to say something so hurtful to my mother?You know, I didn't hate you before…but now I do." He eyed her from head to toe before storming off. After he got to his room, Van dropped to his knees staring down at
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 51. The Meeting
"I asked all of us to have dinner together because I feel we need to talk." Van said after they were all complete. "Earlier today, Fred was telling me about some things and I felt it's time for me to know what actually happened all those years ago. How did my brother and I end up at the orphanage? Why wasn't Macy with us? What was going on at home? I need to know everything.""But Van, the doctor said–""I know what the doctor said mom, but it's my right to know. I'm ready."The woman sighed and started. "That day, Macy and I had gone out to attend a friend's birthday and you boys said you would stay home with your father. While I was there, I got a call from one of the house helps that your father had gotten into a fight with his brother and it was serious. I left Macy with my friend and rushed back home but by the time I got there, the house was on fire and I couldn't find you two. I did my best to search for you, but my efforts were all futile.""Why didn't you go after dad's brot
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225. Next Move
By mid-morning, Van couldn’t step outside without seeing his own face staring back from every screen.Some called him a vigilante.Others spat the word criminal like poison.But the city was buzzing, and Barron’s name was finally dragged through the dirt alongside his own.Van didn’t care about the headlines. He cared about the numbers Carla showed him — accounts traced, shell companies linked, wires exposed like raw nerves.Money. That’s where they would cut next.She tapped the screen, her nail chipped and trembling slightly."See this? Phoenix Holdings. Looks clean on the outside, but dig deeper and it’s washing Barron’s trafficking money through luxury imports. Art, watches, cars—hell, probably gold toilets for his mansion."Van grunted. His mind wasn’t on art.It was on Lenny, still fighting for his life three floors up."You said we could burn him financially. How?"Carla smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked as tired as he felt."We leak it. Quiet first — to the rig
224. First Blood
The attack came at dawn.Silent. Surgical. Cruel.Lenny never saw it coming. He was stepping out of his apartment, headed to meet Van at the old mill, when the van screeched up.Three men in black masks.No words — just steel pipes and fists.Neighbors heard the commotion but kept their doors shut.Everyone knew better. When Barron’s men came calling, you looked away.By the time the van peeled off, Lenny lay in a broken heap, blood pooling beneath his head.His niece’s picture, which he always carried in his pocket, fluttered to the ground, soaked red.★★★Van got the call an hour later.Nora's voice shook."They nearly killed him, Van. Lenny’s in ICU. Skull fractures, broken ribs. They meant to send a message."Van stood frozen in the middle of Keller’s living room, heart pounding like a war drum.Carla looked up from her laptop, face pale."This is escalation. Barron’s going full scorched earth now. If we don’t hit back hard—"Van was already moving.★★★At the hospital, Lenny lay
223. Raising An Army
Van’s phone buzzed just past midnight, it was an unknown number but he answered without hesitation.A familiar voice, rough and low, crackled through."You said if we ever wanted payback, we should call. Well, we’re calling."It was Lenny — an old cellmate from the prison days. A man who’d lost his niece to the same trafficking chain Bianca had just escaped.Van’s chest tightened."Where are you?""Abandoned mill off 43rd Street. And we’re not alone."Van grabbed his jacket and keys.This was the sign he’d been waiting for.★★★The mill was a ruin of rust and cracked windows, but inside, the air was electric.Dozens of faces turned when Van stepped in.Ex-cons, street runners and women with haunted eyes — survivors of Barron’s network.At the front stood Lenny, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, a thin woman with a scar along her jaw — Nora, who had once testified and then vanished from public sight.Van took it in: a gathering of the discarded and the damned.People
222. Barron Retaliates
The news broke before dawn. Grainy footage leaked online — flashing lights at the docks, bodies being loaded into ambulances, women wrapped in blankets, their faces blurred.The headlines screamed in bold:Human Trafficking Ring Busted in Dramatic Night Raid.But behind the headlines, in dark rooms far from the public eye, powerful men were already plotting their revenge.Van sat beside Bianca's hospital bed, watching her chest rise and fall. She was sedated, her body too battered and exhausted to stay conscious for long but she was alive.That simple fact kept him breathing.Keller stood near the door, on the phone with someone high up — probably trying to keep this operation from exploding into a political scandal.Carla scrolled through her tablet, her face grim."They’re already spinning this," she muttered. "Barron’s people are leaking stories that this was a rogue smuggling crew. Small-time. Not connected to him."Van’s jaw clenched."Typical. Burn the pawns, protect the king."
221. Final Hunt
The storm hadn’t let up by morning.Thunder rolled over the city like distant gunfire as Van paced the length of Keller’s safehouse, phone clutched in a death grip.The message replayed in his mind over and over:"Transfer complete. Barron expects the shipment before Friday."Today was Thursday.That meant they had less than twenty-four hours to find Bianca before she vanished — maybe forever.Carla spread a map on the table, jabbing her finger at different points marked in red."These are known drop sites tied to Barron’s network. Truck yards. Private airstrips. Warehouses near the docks. If they’re moving her, it’s through one of these routes."Van stopped pacing, leaned over the map."Which one?"Carla’s mouth pressed into a thin line."If I knew that, we’d already be on the road."Keller stormed in from the other room, phone to his ear."No, I don’t care if it’s off the books—pull every asset we have! She’s out there, and I want eyes on every exit point in this city!"He ended the
220. The Raid
The black SUV tore through the city streets, weaving between cars and running red lights.Rain slapped against the windshield in heavy sheets, turning the world into a blur of lights and shadows.Van sat in the passenger seat, jaw tight, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee.Beside him, Keller drove like a man possessed, silent and focused.Carla sat in the back, double-checking the blueprints of the warehouse on her tablet."Franklin and Third," she muttered."Two floors. Old textile plant. Abandoned for years. No security cameras, no neighbors — perfect place to stash someone."Van’s stomach twisted.It was too perfect.He kept flashing back to Vance’s words: If they think you’re coming, they’ll move her—or worse.He couldn't afford to think about what worse meant.Not now.Not when they were this close.They arrived in less than fifteen minutes.The warehouse loomed out of the mist like a dead thing — gray, crumbling, windows shattered, rust eating through the metal doors.
219. Confession
The air inside the van was thick with tension.Julian Vance sat slumped against the wall, wrists cuffed to a metal ring bolted to the floor.The blindfold was gone, but fear had carved deep lines into his face.Sweat soaked through his shirt despite the cold night air.Across from him, Van leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, studying him like a puzzle that needed solving.Keller sat beside Van, silent and looming, while Carla hovered near the door, tablet in hand, recording everything.No one spoke for a long moment.They let the fear do its work first.Vance fidgeted, his eyes darting from face to face, looking for a crack, a kindness.He found none.Finally, Keller broke the silence."You know who we are," he said calmly."You know why you’re here."Vance licked his lips."I—I’m just an accountant," he stammered."I don’t know anything."Keller smiled thinly."You know enough to get yourself killed. Or saved. Your choice."Vance’s hands twisted in the cuffs."I can’t," he whisper
218. The Aftermath
The night was soaked in the heavy stench of gunpowder and rain.Sirens howled in the distance — getting closer — but Agent Keller’s team moved fast.They swept the abandoned lot, securing what little evidence Moses had left behind: a few casings, tire tracks gouged deep into the mud, a broken phone.It wasn’t enough.Moses had disappeared like a phantom into the night, and worse — he had seen through the setup.Van had barely made it out alive.Inside the mobile command van, Keller slammed his fist against the table."Someone tipped him off," he growled."There’s no way he walked into that meeting with backup unless he knew we were coming."Carla sat beside Van, wrapping a makeshift bandage around his bleeding arm.Her hands were steady, but her face was grim.Van winced as the gauze tightened, but he barely felt the pain.His mind was somewhere else.A traitor.Someone inside their circle.Someone who had sold them out to Moses.Keller paced furiously, barking orders into his radio,
217. The Hunt
The plan was simple on paper.Simple, but dangerous.Van stood at the cracked concrete window of a forgotten motel room on the edge of the city, watching the rain smear the world into gray blurs.Inside the room, Agent Keller was setting up equipment — laptops, burner phones, tiny recorders the size of coins — while Carla scribbled notes furiously into a weathered notebook.Van’s nerves hummed under his skin.He wasn’t a cop.He wasn’t a spy.He was just a man trying to survive.And now, somehow, he was about to help bring down one of the most powerful men in the city."Here’s the plan," Keller said, pulling Van’s attention back.He laid out a rough blueprint of the next 48 hours:Van would reach out to Moses — casual, non-threatening — suggest a meeting under the pretense of "burying the hatchet."Offer him information.Play on his paranoia.The idea was to draw Moses out.Get him somewhere isolated.Somewhere they could grab him without witnesses.If they could catch Moses talking —
