Killed at Eighteen, Billionaire Alpha at Dawn

Chapter 4

Arashi couldn’t relax when the tests ended. 

For one, he had failed.

Failure wasn’t a foreign concept to him, but it was something he had never liked.

That was the first thing he noticed about himself. His body refused the idea of completion. If there was no sense of finish to him, Arashi had no relief. All he would be left with is just a constant tension, like a hand hovering inches from his throat.

So Arashi was still tense even when Rue told him it was over and he should get rest.

What the fuck did the man mean by rest?

Arashi still had blood pulsing behind his eyes and his knuckles throbbed where skin had split and re-sealed badly.

They had taken him to the medical bay, but there were things not even medicine could solve.

Arashi was about to finally close his eyes and sleep when Rue walked back in, this time sans black box or anything else, and his expression was unreadable.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him Rue was simply here to deliver some news, but Arashi had other plans.

“You proved what we needed you to.” Rue said, as a way of greeting.

Arashi was getting tired of everything. If they wouldn’t let him sleep, they should at least explain why they were keeping him here.

“You are right,” Arashi replied, and his voice came out steady, which surprised him. “I proved what you needed.”

Rue paused, clearly surprised, and Arashi lifted his gaze to meet his eyes. “I want my own proof.”

Rue didn’t argue, and even though that scared Arashi more than resistance would have, he didn’t budge. 

The other man shifted his stance, his arms folding across his chest as his brows lifted. “Proof of what?”

“I need more,” Arashi said without hesitation. He met Rue's eyes. “You know everything about me. I don't know jack shit about you. You might be lying to me like some smartpants. I need more. I need to know if I can truly take your word for it.”

Information was currency, anyone could have paid anyone to give Rue the information he wanted, especially since the fucker clearly wasn’t hurting for money.

Rue studied him the way a chess player studied a board, and Arashi felt relief flood him when Rue nodded once. “Fair.”

He almost thought Rue would call him out on his bluff and locked him back inside the room.

Rue got a guard to open the door, and he led Arashi through corridors he hadn’t seen before, and down levels he didn’t remember existing. 

It was like one moment Arashi was inside the white geometry of the testing wing and in the next he was inside a vehicle with no windows, no visible controls, but the low vibration underfoot that told him they were moving fast.

Wherever they were going, Rue didn’t want him to know, but Arashi was stubborn, and he couldn’t stop himself from counting seconds and trying to map distance.

 It was all useless though. He lost count somewhere around forty five minutes and lost the urge to try again. 

He would simply have to wing it.

And that was fine. Arashi was all too used to that.

What he did hate was feeling uncertain, so Arashi finally broke the silence. “Where are we going?” 

“A secondary facility,” Rue said, checking his watch. 

Arashi wondered how much he would have gotten it for if he managed to swipe it and sell it on the black market.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Rue didn’t say anything, so Arashi changed tactics.

“How far are we going?”

“Far enough,” Rue said, his tone still that bored monotone.

It was all Arashi could do to keep himself from snapping at Rue. “I meant, where?”

“Your father built it.”

Arashi scoffed. “You keep saying that word like it means something to me.”

Father.

Arashi did not have that.

Rue did not respond, but Arashi’s attention was diverted to the vibrations under his feet. The pressure was changing, and Arashi knew what that meant.

They were here.

A faint hiss followed, then a door opened inward. 

The first thing Arashi could see was the building. It looked older, as if it was on the verge of being decayed, but still lived in. The walls were matte steel instead of white polymer, and the air smelled faintly of ozone and paper.

Paper stood out.

He would have to check that out later.

They walked past a security corridor lined with biometric locks. They walked past armed personnel, till Rue stopped outside a room with a single frosted glass wall.

“Inside,” Rue said as if that explained everything.

The money the geezer made had to be getting to his head.

Arashi hesitated. “If this is another test—”

“You asked for proof. This is it. In, boyo.”

The door slid open, and Arashi could see that a man waited inside.

He was older than Rue. Sixties, maybe seventies. His suit was conservative to the point of anonymity. Gray hair. Thin mouth. Hands folded neatly, one ring glinting dull gold. 

He stood when Arashi entered.

“Arashi Ren,” the man said. “I am Elias Morton.”

Arashi did not take the offered hand.

Morton let it fall without offense as he took his seat. “I was Cassian Giodanzo’s legal executor.”

Was.

Arashi sat opposite him. Rue remained standing behind and slightly to the side.

“Talk,” Arashi said.

Morton inclined his head. “Cassian anticipated this meeting for fifteen years.”

“Of course he did,” Arashi muttered. Everything he learnt about his supposed father didn’t surprise him again. The man was either Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark. 

Morton activated the table, and a projection bloomed between them. It had numbers, graphs, and names that meant nothing to Arashi. One name stood out. Sovereign. Arashi let his eyes pass over it. 

The figures were obscene. 

They were trillions in cumulative valuation. Arashi could see holdings across energy, infrastructure, biotech, private security, sovereign debt instruments. There were names of shell entities nested inside other shell entities like a recursive joke, with all the asset trees branching endlessly.

Holy fucking shit. 

Arashi leaned forward before he could stop himself, despite his misgivings. His eyes popped. 

“This,” Morton said, “is Cassian Giodanzo’s publicly acknowledged financial structure at the time of his death.”

“He owned half the world,” Arashi said, because he wasn’t stupid. He could see that, even if such currency and wealth was a concept he couldn’t wrap his head around.

Morton nodded. “That is the public narrative.”

“And,” Arashi said, looking up to see Morton’s face, “you’re about to tell me it’s a lie.”

“No,” Morton replied. “I am about to tell you it is irrelevant.”

The projection shifted as Morton changed the display and everything collapsed.

“At the moment of Cassian’s death,” Morton said, “every verifiable asset disappeared.”

Arashi blinked. “That’s impossible.”

“It is,” Morton said calmly, “if you design everything to vanish upon the event of your death. Another person might have written a will. My client was eccentric by a mile.”

“That kind of money just doesn't disappear. I might not have gone to school, but I'm not dumb.”

Rue spoke from behind him. “He didn’t liquidate, boyo.”

Morton nodded. “He simply erased it.”

Arashi looked between them. “You’re sure someone didn't steal it? You guys look like smartpants, but scams happen all the time.”

“No,” Morton said. 

“Then where did it go?” Arashi snapped.

Morton met his gaze. “That's what we're here to find out.”

“You expect me to believe the richest man in history just… deleted himself? You don’t just erase shit like that,” Arashi said. “You can’t just—”

It was unheard of. It just didn’t happen.

Morton tapped the table in response and another projection appeared. 

Arashi could see that it was a timeline. It had Cassian’s death marked in red, and the minutes following it bloomed with frantic activity. 

“This,” Morton said, “is what happened when the empire failed to surface.”

Arashi swallowed.

“Cassian’s death was … unexpected,” Morton continued. “In the coming days, as you learn more, you will come to understand that he was a lynchpin. When he died, the financial markets went crazy.” He waved his hand at the projection. “We've stabilized some of it. Some. The underground is a different matter entirely. There are powerful people with interest in Cassian's wealth. Finding it will let them fill his place.”

Rue moved closer. “And they’re still looking.”

Arashi turned sharply. “Who?”

Morton folded his hands. “Anyone who understands who Cassian truly was. What he truly controlled.”

Arashi scratched his head and eyed Morton. “And by that you mean countries. Governments. Got it.”

“Yes.”

 “My head hurts. One of the richest men in the world and he couldn't settle for the money alone? Had to become some kind of shadow boss?”

“He was powerful,” Morton said, letting a small smile crack his face. “Wealth was a side effect.”

“Then where is it?” Arashi demanded. He waved at the projection. “I've seen charts, but no cash.”

Rue stepped into his line of sight. “Cassian hid his empire, boyo.”

He rolled his eyes. “I figured that part out, genius.”

“He hid it inside a structure,” Rue said. “Then hid that structure in something else. Someone else.”

Arashi stared at him. “You’re speaking in riddles.”

Rue had to be speaking in riddles, because there was only one solution left to conclude, and Arashi didn’t even want to think about that.

Rue said. “I won't say anything until you're ready.”

“I’m not. Say it anyway.”

Rue inhaled, and looked Arashi straight in the eyes. “Cassian designed the empire so it could only be accessed by you. He hid the key inside you. That's what the will says. You're it, boyo.”

The room seemed to tilt, and Arashi waited for the punchline.

None came.

“That’s insane,” Arashi said.

Morton didn’t disagree. “Cassian was … meticulous. He had his moments, but he was quite sane, I assure you.”

“You’re saying I have his money inside of me? How the hell does that work?”

Rue shook his head. “Not the money, dumbass. The key.”

Arashi stood abruptly, ignoring the way the chair scraped loudly against the floor, and he turned to Morton. 

If Morton thought Arashi was angry, his face didn’t show it. “You expect me to believe my body is a safety deposit box. Well, it's not. I don't have jack shit inside of me. Your boss was a crazy man who duped your asses and spent his money on whores and cocaine. Let me out of here.”

Morton did not flinch, and his voice stayed calm. “You’re like him, you know. It's nearly uncanny. The way you speak. Your mannerisms. The pitch of your voice when you're terrified. I reviewed your results and it is the same thing. Your neural architecture. Your decision-making patterns. Your adaptive cognition.”

Arashi felt sick. “Cut that shit out.”

Morton nodded. “Please understand us. We’re not sure of anything. We suspect Cassian used you as the vault so we want you to help us confirm.”

The word slammed into him, hitting harder than any punch.

Arashi backed away from the table. “That’s impossible.”

Rue’s voice lowered. “The tests confirmed that you're his son. It has to be inside you, boyo. Don't make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“You basically tortured me!”

“You’ll get over it,” Rue said.

Arashi laughed again, the sound hollow and brittle. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” Rue said. “But who cares?”

Silence swallowed the room, even as Arashi’s thoughts raced. 

“What happens if I don't cooperate? What happens if I let you open me up and you find nothing?”

Rue pulled out a cigar. Lit it. “There are contingencies, but you don't have clearance just yet.”

Arashi clenched his fists. He asked the next question. “If we do find it … you mean all of that … will be mine?”

Rue shook his head. “In due time. Not right now.”

“Why?” 

“Because,” Morton said, “Cassian never gave anyone unchecked access. Not even himself.”

“Always talking about how power was corruption,” Rue said, smiling fondly. Again, that ancient grief flickered across his face. It was gone in an instant. 

Morton gathered his files. Rue watched and said, “You asked for proof, boyo. This is it. Crack or rise. Endure or burn.” He flicked the ash Arashi's way. “Your choice.”

Arashi stared at the empty projection where a global empire should have been.

Gone.

Hidden by a crazy bastard. 

Was it inside him?

Arashi had fought his whole life to belong to himself.

Now he understood why that had always felt just out of reach.