Home / Urban / MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY / — 55 —

— 55 —

Author: C. Sygil

2025-07-07 15:10:30

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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— 64 —
Michael's legs felt like jelly as he and Alexis walked out of the abandoned restaurant. The cool evening air hit his face, and he realized he'd been holding his breath for what felt like hours. Behind them, the sound of chairs scraping and voices faded into the distance."Jesus Christ," Michael muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe that actually worked."Alexis walked beside him, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement. She kept glancing back at the restaurant, as if expecting armed men to come running after them. "Your hands are shaking," she said, noticing his trembling fingers as he tried to light a cigarette."Yeah, well, I just negotiated with two gang leaders who could have killed us both," Michael said. "I'm allowed to shake a little."They walked in silence for a few blocks, both processing what had just happened. The street lamps cast long shadows, and every sound made Michael's head snap around. A car door slamming. A dog barking. The distant hu
— 63 —
The abandoned restaurant felt like a tomb. Michael followed Salvatore Russo and Brother North inside, his heart hammering against his ribs as Esteban Martinez's eyes tracked his every movement."Please, sit," Martinez said, gesturing to a round table.Michael sat across from Martinez, painfully aware of how the man's gaze never left his face. Alexis took the chair beside him, her posture straight and perfect despite the situation. North and Russo flanked them, while Martinez's men positioned themselves near the exits."So," Martinez said, his voice calm as he settled into his chair, "here we are again. Except this time, I know exactly who you are." His eyes burned with fury. "Michael Sullivan. The man who sat across from me weeks ago, shook my hand, and lied to my face."Michael's throat felt dry. "Mr. Martinez, I can explain—""Explain?" Martinez's voice rose slightly before he caught himself. "You looked me in the eye and told me you were Salvatore Russo. You negotiated a deal under
— 62 —
Michael's throat felt like sandpaper as Brother North settled into the rusted metal chair across from him, the screech of metal against concrete echoing through the warehouse. "You know what the funny thing is?" North said, his voice carrying that unsettling conversational tone that made Michael's skin crawl. "I actually started to like you. The Consigliere with the quick mouth and wits." He leaned forward, studying Michael's face. "You remind me of an old friend of mine, young and too smart for his own good." "What happened to your friend?" Michael asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. North's expression darkened. "He got shot trying to negotiate with people who don't negotiate. That's the problem with smart guys like you—you think everything can be solved with words." "Sometimes it can," Michael said carefully. "Sometimes," North agreed. "But sometimes, people just need to understand that actions have consequences." He stood up and began pacing, his energy building. "Do
— 61 —
Michael woke to the taste of copper in his mouth and the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness. His head throbbed, and when he tried to move, he discovered his hands were tied behind his back. The rough rope bit into his wrists. "He's awake," a voice said. Michael's vision slowly cleared, revealing a warehouse. Industrial lights hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows across concrete floors and metal support beams. The air smelled of oil and rust. Brother North stepped into the light, but he was nothing like the jovial guy Michael had met before. His smile was gone, replaced by cold fury. His clothes were different too, more professional, like he was dressing for serious business. "You've got some balls, I'll give you that..how long did you think you could get away with pretending to be someone you're not," North said. "I don't know what you mean," Michael said, his voice hoarse. "Sure you don't," North said, then stepped aside. Another man moved into th
— 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

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