2026-03-04 03:30:31"You're still alive..." Mrs. Gable whispered, her eyes fixed on the locket around Harry's neck.
The kitchen door of the old mansion was barely ajar. The air inside was stuffy, smelling of dried lavender and dust. Harry stood stiffly in the doorway, suppressing the wild urge to barge in.
"I just want to know what happened to my father," he said softly, but his voice was loud with determination.
Mrs. Gable stared at him for a long time, then quickly pulled him inside. The door was locked three times.
Harry had left Arthur's warehouse earlier that morning without looking back. Guilt haunted him, but the names Aubrey Family, Black Hand, and Marcus were stronger than everything else.
He had searched for clues all day. He listened to whispers from dockworkers, followed shadows, until he finally stood before the old Victorian mansion, the childhood home he didn't remember. The paint was peeling, the gate rusted. It was grand, yet dead.
This is where everything began.
And perhaps, this is where the lies about his father would end.
In the small study, Mrs. Gable sat trembling. Harry stood opposite her.
"That's a family locket," the old woman whispered. "Mr. Aubrey made it himself. He said it was to protect his descendants."
"Why did the dock people say I stole from them?" Harry asked sharply. "They mentioned Victor Thorne."
The name made Mrs. Gable's face turn pale.
"Victor Thorne... Black Hand," she murmured softly. "Your father... wasn't just a businessman. He was involved in night business. He wanted out. For your sake."
Harry froze. He had always imagined his father as a hero. It turned out he was part of the very dark world that was now hunting him.
"What kind of business?" he pressed.
"I don't know the details," Mrs. Gable wept softly. "But that night I heard him say he would hand over 'the key'... but he would never hand over his son. And that accident, it wasn't an accident. There were black lights following their car. Then... the collision."
Harry's world felt like it was spinning.
His father was murdered. It was planned.
And it was all because of something called a key.
"He used to go to one place," Mrs. Gable continued, trying to calm herself. "A small bar in the Old District. A safe place. The name is The Silver Fox."
Harry immediately stood up.
"He spoke honestly there. The bartender knows a lot," she added. "But don't show that locket. If Thorne knows you're alive... he will send death for you."
"Marcus too?" Harry asked.
The old woman looked at him with wet eyes. "Marcus has chosen a side."
That name was now etched clearly in Harry's head.
Traitor.
Harry stepped out of the old mansion with a scrap of address in his hand. Night descended slowly, the city wind carrying the scent of salt and smoke.
His father wasn't a saint. But he tried to get out.
And someone made sure he never succeeded.
Harry clenched the locket against his chest. It felt warm. As if pulsing.
The Old District awaited him. His father's underground world was calling him deeper.
In the distance, footsteps sounded faintly behind him.
Someone was following him.
Harry didn't look back.
He just whispered softly, almost a growl—
"If you want this locket... come and get it."
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Going Back in Time
"You're still alive..." Mrs. Gable whispered, her eyes fixed on the locket around Harry's neck.The kitchen door of the old mansion was barely ajar. The air inside was stuffy, smelling of dried lavender and dust. Harry stood stiffly in the doorway, suppressing the wild urge to barge in."I just want to know what happened to my father," he said softly, but his voice was loud with determination.Mrs. Gable stared at him for a long time, then quickly pulled him inside. The door was locked three times.Harry had left Arthur's warehouse earlier that morning without looking back. Guilt haunted him, but the names Aubrey Family, Black Hand, and Marcus were stronger than everything else.He had searched for clues all day. He listened to whispers from dockworkers, followed shadows, until he finally stood before the old Victorian mansion, the childhood home he didn't remember. The paint was peeling, the gate rusted. It was grand, yet dead.This is where everything began.And perhaps, this is whe
Chapter 10 The Aubrey Family Mansion
“If you step outside now, Harry,” Arthur’s voice was stifled by heavy breathing, “you might never come back.”Harry stopped at the warehouse threshold, but he didn't turn around.“I haven’t been back in too long,” he replied softly.He walked away, leaving the foul-smelling warehouse without looking at Arthur’s face once. He knew Arthur worried. He knew this decision was selfish and dangerous. But the truth about the Aubrey Family, about the Black Hand, and about Marcus called to him more strongly than any safety the hiding place could offer.He couldn't stay silent anymore.For a whole day, Harry disappeared into the city shadows. He moved without visible purpose, but his senses were fully engaged. He listened to the whispers of dock workers, fragments of conversation in cheap pubs, the complaints of old people who still remembered the city’s past. Information about the “old Aubrey family residence” was never spoken out loud. The name still carried fear.As dusk fell, Harry finally a
Chapter 9 Harry's Revenge
“Do you realize, Harry,” Arthur’s voice trembled, strained by ragged breaths, “that one more step back there… we both wouldn't have walked out alive?”Harry didn't answer.He pulled Arthur away from the ruins of the old building, where stone, iron, and dust mingled with the faint, metallic scent of fresh blood. The place that, minutes earlier, had almost become their tomb.Every one of his wolf instincts screamed for him to return, to finish Marcus off right there and end it all.But he forced himself to keep running.Fleeing from that confrontation was the hardest thing he’d ever done.They didn't stop until they reached a new hideout, a small warehouse behind a long-abandoned fish market.The pungent, fishy odor stung the air, mingling with the scent of old burlap sacks and rotting wooden crates. The place wasn't worthy of being called home, but it was secluded enough from the Black Hand, who were clearly watching the harbor.Arthur collapsed onto a pile of sacks, gasping for breath
Chapter 8 The Urban Wolf
"I know you're here," the cold, trained voice echoed, breaking the silence of the harbor warehouse. "You've been holding onto our property for too long, Aubrey boy. Give me the necklace, or I'll make sure you end up worse than your father."Harry froze, his entire body tensing like a steel cable ready to snap. The scent of expensive tobacco and high-quality leather pricked his nostrils, a stark contrast to the rotten smell of the docks. The voice was authoritative, sharp,exactly the tone that haunted his worst nightmares. Marcus. It had to be Marcus."Harry, don't move!" Arthur shouted from behind a stack of crates near the entrance, his voice choked with fear.Harry gripped the necklace beneath his shirt. Outside the crate, the expensive footsteps drew closer, stopping directly in front of the gap where Harry hid. The man didn't need to see. He knew Harry was there."You won't escape me, lost boy," the voice hissed, and Harry could feel the cold threat seeping through the wooden crat
Chapter 7 The Truth Begins to Emerge
"If you want to keep breathing tomorrow morning, listen closely, Harry. This city doesn't forgive creatures like you."Harry didn't reply.Arthur pulled his arm tighter, nearly dragging him out of the alley's shadows. His face was deathly pale as he peeked outside, making sure the two large men were actually gone.The city's sounds returned horns, footsteps, unfamiliar conversations as if what had just happened was merely a brief illusion. For Harry, however, the world had not returned to normal.His wolf instinct was still wired, like a muscle refusing to relax after the hunt. He followed Arthur's gaze, scenting the air, searching for any lingering traces of danger."They won't come back now," Arthur finally whispered. "But that doesn't mean we're safe.""Who were they?" Harry asked quietly.Arthur swallowed. "Thorne's trash." The name slid from Arthur's mouth like poison. "They know someone saw you. And now... now they know you're not just some confused lost kid.""Thorne?" Harry re
Chapter 6 Evidence of the past
"Arthur, wait!" Harry yelled, running to catch up with his new mentor. His voice was too loud, too wild. He clutched the folded note tightly in his left hand.Arthur stopped abruptly on the busy street corner, without turning around. He let out a long sigh before finally turning slowly, his expression now flat with exhaustion."What are you holding, Harry?" Arthur asked, his eyes focused on Harry's hand, not his face.Harry hesitated. He held the paper with both hands now, pulling it away from Arthur. "You dropped this. On the bench earlier."Arthur moved closer, his gaze hardening. "I didn't drop anything. That's not mine. I also know someone's been watching us.""There's a message inside," Harry insisted, feeling his wolf instincts urge him not to trust anyone except his Alpha. It read... "'Watch the boy. He's not yours.'"The air around Arthur seemed to thin. The older man quickly scanned left and right, watching the passing crowd, then pulled Harry into the shadows of a closed sto
