Home / Urban / MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY / — 38 —

— 38 —

Author: C. Sygil

2025-06-12 19:21:30

Michael's phone buzzed insistently as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, each vibration sending another wave of irritation through his already frayed nerves. The second quarterly assessment had been a disaster, and the last thing he needed was more spam calls or more notifications of his siblings' psychological warfare.

But when he finally looked at his phone, he froze. Seventeen new messages from the same unknown number that had been haunting him for weeks.

Message 1: "Neural pathway degradation accelerating. Time running short."

Message 5: "Her cognitive matrix is fragmenting. You've noticed the episodes."

Message 17: "Contact me before it's too late. She doesn't have long."

"Bloody hell," Michael muttered, scrolling through the increasingly urgent messages. Each one contained details about Ava's condition that no outsider should know. Details that chilled him to the bone because they were accurate.

He deleted the messages with savage swipes, but his hands were shaking. Who was

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— 60 —
Michael woke to the sound of running water and the soft rustle of silk. The hotel suite was bathed in golden morning light, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. Yesterday's memories came flooding back, along with the weight of everything he still needed to understand about his mother's past.The bathroom door opened, and Alexis emerged in a white robe, her red hair damp and catching the light. She noticed him watching and smiled."Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, moving to the dresser where she'd laid out several shopping bags from the night before. "You look like you've seen a ghost."Michael felt his cheeks warm as she dropped the robe casually and began getting dressed. He quickly looked away, focusing on the ceiling."Aww, you're adorable," Alexis said with amusement. "I'm not used to this," Michael admitted, still avoiding eye contact."Used to what? Expensive hotels or seeing a woman get dressed?""Both, I guess," Michael replied with a shrug.Alexis laughed, a genuin
— 59 —
The Medici mansion loomed against the night sky, its windows glowing like watching eyes. Michael parked his car in the circular driveway, noting that most of the family cars were absent. Good. He didn't want an audience for this conversation.Ava was waiting for him by the front entrance, her posture alert and ready. "Michael, again, I'd like to advise against this course of action.""I need to know what's going on," Michael said grimly. They walked through the front doors, past the grand staircase and portraits of the previous Medicis. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hallways."Frank's study is this way," Michael said, leading Ava down a corridor lined with some very interesting artwork. He wondered now if any of these paintings contained hidden codes like the ones Lizzy had discovered.They reached the door of Frank's study. Michael didn't bother knocking. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.The room was barely lit by a single desk lamp. Behind the massive desk sat Fran
— 58—
Michael sat across from Lizzy at Romano's, a quiet Italian restaurant downtown. Lizzy had insisted they meet somewhere private, away from the family mansion and prying eyes."You look terrible," Lizzy said, studying his face. "When's the last time you slept?""We:ll talk about that later," Michael replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "What did you find?"Lizzy glanced around the restaurant, then leaned forward. "I've been going through the gallery's transaction logs like you suggested. At first, everything seemed normal. Standard purchases, insurance payments, maintenance costs. But then I noticed something odd."She pulled out a folder from her purse and opened it on the table. Inside were photocopies of bank statements and receipts."These are payments from Frank to something called Korvich Advancement Initiative," she said, pointing to several highlighted entries. "They go back fifteen years, Michael. Millions of dollars."Michael's heart skipped. "KAI. That's Elena Korvich's comp
— 57 —
Outside the courthouse, Michael stood on the concrete steps with his mind reeling. The afternoon sun glared at his face, but he barely noticed it. Everything he thought he knew about his life had just been turned upside down in the space of an hour."So," he said, turning to face the red-haired woman who had just saved his life, "you're actually a girl."Alexis laughed, a sound that was both familiar and completely new. "I'm actually a woman," she corrected, her accent making the words sound more sophisticated than they would have in his own voice. "Twenty-five years old, master's degree in international business, and yes, I have been letting you assume I was male for months."Michael felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "But why? I mean, all this time I thought you were just some guy helping me out with stuff.""Because," Alexis said, her green eyes twinkling with mischief, "when I first started talking to you online, I wasn't sure if you were a creep or not. You know how it is
— 56 —
Every head turned toward the courtroom entrance, where two the figures now stood silhouetted against the sunlit hallway behind them.Ava stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously. But it was the woman beside her who commanded immediate attention. She was tall, probably five foot eight, with striking red hair that fell to her shoulders. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her dark, well-tailored business suit, and her green eyes swept the courtroom with the kind of confidence that suggested she owned whatever space she occupied.Just when Michael started to wonder who this newcomer was and if she was a friend or foe, she finally spoke. "Your Honor," the red-haired woman said, her voice carrying a slight accent. "I apologize for this interruption, but I am here to ensure the safety of my partner."The Judge, who had been struggling to restore order after Zara's outburst, looked both annoyed and intrigued. "And you are?"The woman stepped forward and removed a document from her b
— 55 —
The courtroom was packed beyond capacity. Michael had expected a simple hearing, maybe a few court officials and a handful of observers. Instead, he walked into what looked like a circus. Every seat was filled, cameras lined the walls, and the air buzzed with the kind of electric anticipation.At the plaintiff's table sat his three accusers: Damon Pearce, Chris Welling, and Tyler Morgan. Their faces were unmarked, their clothes pressed and professional. They had transformed from street thugs into respectable citizens, complete with expensive suits and fake innocent expressions.Behind them, filling the first two rows, sat half the Medici family. Mei and Feng had their phones out, no doubt live streaming the proceedings to their millions of followers. Maxwell lounged in his seat with his trademark smirk, while Lizzy sat rigidly upright. Michael noticed that Octavian and Frank were absent, but Frank's butler sat in the back corner, his cold eyes tracking Michael's every movement.The pr

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