Luke Callas; The Underworld King

The First Crack

The rain had stopped nearly an hour ago, but the streets of New York were still wet, inside a luxurious apartment overlooking Manhattan, Luke Callas stood before a large glass window—holding a cup of coffee in his left hand.

Thirty-five years old, tall, broad-shouldered, he carried himself with a quiet confidence of a man who have spent years I'm dangerous places, his dark hair was nearly trimmed and a faint scar ran across his left eyebrow.

He wore a simple black shirt, and grey trouser. Nothing in his appearance suggested that he had once been one of the most decorated combat officers in the military—but that life was far behind him now, at least that is what he always wanted to believe.

His phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, Luke glanced at it, a message from his operation's manager.

Daniel: Good morning, Sir. The meeting with the European partners has been moved to 11:am. I've sent the updated documents to your email.

Luke picked up his phone.

Luke: I'll review them before the meeting. Do well to ensure that everything is ready, no mistakes.

He put down the phone and took a sip of his coffee before releasing a low yawn.

His company, Callas security and logistics had grown massively over the past five years, what began as a small private security outfit had expanded into an international business providing executive protection and private risk management.

It wasn't an easy journey, he invested almost everything he possessed into building it, including the money he had saved during his military service. Difficult moments always came, but in the end—he always managed and for the first time in his life he had something that belonged entirely to him.

A business, a home, a family.

Speaking of family...

"You're awake early."

Luke turned, Victoria Callas stood at the entrance to the kitchen, wearing a white silk nightdress, her blonde hair fell loosely over her shoulders and her face carried the familiar beauty that had once caught his attention years ago.

She walked towards him and planted a light kiss on his lips.

"Hmmm. Good morning beautiful." He said.

"Morning honey." She moved her hands through his beards. "Did you sleep well?"

"Quite well."

She smiled. "Oh, I know you did."

Luke chuckled a little.

She opened the refrigerator, brought out a bottle of water and poured herself a glass—Luke watched for a moment.

"Will you be going out today?" He asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"I saw your dress hung in the room. You only do that when you're going somewhere."

Victoria glanced down at herself before smiling faintly.

"You know me well. Well, I have launch with a few friends nothing important."

"Alright."

His attention returned back to the window, for a few seconds neither of them spoke again.

It wasn't unusual for Victoria to go out, she has always had a circle of friends, business associates, social engagements and Luke wasn't the kind of husband who demanded to always know where his wife was at every hour of the day.

He trusted her, at least he believed he did.

"Luke, honey."

"Hmm?"

"Have you considered taking a break?"

He turned towards her.

"A break?"

"Yes. You're always working, meetings, phone calls, travelling—sometimes I wonder if you even remember that you have a wife?"

Luke chuckled softly.

"Is that a complaint I hear?"

"Maybe."

She avoided eye contact, while both arms were crossed over her chest. He walked over and gently placed his hand around her waist, their eyes staying on each other.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "Business has been demanding lately."

She frowned. "Business is always demanding, same excuse every time."

"Fair enough. But don't keep such face for me my love." He kissed her forehead.

"How about I take you somewhere this weekend? Just us two."

Victoria looked at him, something changed in her expression. She smiled.

"I would love that."

"Good. I'll make the arrangements."

"O—"

Just before she could speak, his phone vibrated, Luke sighed.

"Speak of the devil."

He stared at the screen for a moment, before his eyes returned to her.

"Sorry, babe."

She gestured, clearly unhappy, the mood was getting lively and now these.

He released her and walked towards the counter, she watched him pick up the phone, another call, another business problem.

Exhausted, she quietly walked out the kitchen, Luke never saw her leave.

---

9:15A.M.

Luke was seated inside his private office.

The office occupied the top floor of a commercial building in Manhattan, its walls were decorated with photographs from his military career, awards, and a few news paper articles documenting his company's achievements.

One photograph stood out from the rest, it showed Luke standing alongside several soldiers in front of military vehicle, his face was covered in dust, his uniform was torn—there was a rifle hanging across his chest.

He was younger in that photograph... Much younger.

Luke glanced at it briefly before returning his attention to the computer screen.

"What's these?"

He leaned closer, a financial report was displayed on his monitor, at first glance everything appeared normal.

The company's revenue was stable, operational expenses were within acceptable limits, and the quarterly projections looked promising.

However, Luke noticed something very unusual.

Several large transactions had been made from one of the company's reserve accounts, the amounts weren't small, nearly eight million dollars had been transferred over the past weeks.

He moved the mouse, scrolling through the records, different transactions references, but same destination.

An organization called Northbridge Holdings.

Luke's expression immediately darkened, his mind scanned, but nothing came up, the company was a ghost. He has never heard of it before.

He pressed the intercom.

"Daniel."

"Yes, sir?"

"Come to my office now."

"On my way, chief."