Home / Urban / MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY / — 70 —

— 70 —

Author: C. Sygil

2025-07-23 14:34:16

The "training area" was a cleared section of warehouse floor with some old gym equipment that looked like it had seen better years. A heavy bag hung from a chain that creaked loudly, and there were free weights scattered around that were covered in rust and what Michael hoped was just old sweat.

"Strip down to your t-shirt," North commanded, pulling off his own jacket to reveal arms that looked like tree trunks. "And those fancy shoes have got to go. You're gonna need to feel the ground."

Michael complied, suddenly feeling very exposedg took of his jacket and shoes.

"First lesson," North said, moving to the center of the area. "Fighting isn't about being angry. Anger makes you stupid. Fighting is about being calm while doing violence."

"That sounds like a contradiction," Michael said.

"Everything about fighting is a contradiction. You stay relaxed while being aggressive. You defend by attacking. You win by accepting you might lose." North gestured for Michael to join him. "Put your ha

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— 79 —
The van was parked deep in the woods, tucked behind some overgrown trees that kept it out of sight from Maxwell's fancy estate. Michael tugged at the bulletproof vest North insisted he wear. It felt stiff and clunky over his button-down shirt. A pair of borrowed night-vision goggles rested crooked on his head, making him feel like he was in a video game."All teams check in," North's voice crackled through the radio headset."Salvatore's boys are posted out front," someone replied."We're creeping around back now," came another voice, one of North’s crew, moving through the woods."Backup team is ready to rumble," Esteban's hechman reported from somewhere in the darkness.Michael adjusted his earpiece and tried to calm his racing heart. Through the van's tinted windows, he could see nothing but black forest, but he knew that right now, armed men were moving through those trees quietly."Remember," North's voice came through clearly, "we just knock out the guards first. Nobody gets hur
— 78 —
The warehouse felt different with all the players assembled. What had started as North's informal headquarters now looked like something out of a military thriller. Maps covered every available surface, laptops displayed building schematics and satellite imagery, and enough communication equipment to run a small army was scattered across makeshift tables. Michael sat at the center of it all, watching as Brother North and Salvatore Russo coordinated with their respective organizations. It was like watching two different species of predator work together toward a common goal. "Esteban, you there?" North called toward one of the laptops, where a secure video connection showed a scarred man in his fifties sitting in what looked like a fortified compound. "I'm here, hermano," Esteban Martinez replied in accented English. "Heard you got problems with some rich boy." "Not problems," Salvatore corrected smoothly. "Opportunities. Michael's brother decided to escalate things. We're going
— 77 —
Michael was reviewing Octavian's files in the Sullivan Solutions office when his phone rang. The caller ID showed a number he didn't recognize, which immediately put him on edge. Unknown numbers had become synonymous with bad news lately."Michael Sullivan," he answered cautiously."Hello, Michael. This is Maxwell. I believe we need to have a conversation."Michael's blood turned to ice. "What do you want, Maxwell?""It's not what I want, brother. It's what you're going to do." There was a pause, followed by a sound that made Michael's heart stop. A woman's voice, muffled but unmistakably Alexis, saying something he couldn't quite make out."If you hurt her..." Michael started, his voice low and dangerous."Hurt her? Michael, I'm shocked. We're family. I would never hurt your lovely friend. Much." Maxwell's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "But accidents do happen, especially when people don't follow simple instructions."Michael gripped the phone so hard he was surprised it didn
— 76 —
The safe house had been transformed into something that looked like a combination between a war room and a particularly paranoid accountant's office. Charts covered every available wall space, connected by colored string that traced financial flows, personal relationships, and business connections. Zara sat at her laptop with three external monitors, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she cross-referenced public records with social media posts and news articles."Victoria's good," she admitted grudgingly, highlighting another shell company on her screen. "But she's not perfect. Look at this."Michael and Alexis gathered around her workstation. On the main monitor was a flowchart showing a network of businesses that all seemed to trace back to Victoria in some way."Medici Holdings owns thirty percent of Rocky Mountain Development, which has a controlling interest in Peak Property Solutions, which holds the contracts for most of Victoria's waterfront projects," Zara explained, poi
— 75 —
Michael was wrapping his hands with tape when Salvatore Russo walked into the warehouse. North looked up from where he was adjusting the heavy bag and, upon seeing Salvatore, he frowned. "What do you want, Russo?" North asked."I want to help train the boy," Salvatore said simply, removing his jacket and hanging it carefully on a clean hook he'd apparently brought with him."He's my student," North replied, crossing his massive arms. "I'm doing fine without your help.""I'm sure you are. But there are things he needs to learn that punching bags can't teach him." Salvatore rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms that were lean but clearly strong. "I'm not taking him away from you, North. He'll remain your student. I just want to teach him a few valuable lessons he'll need."North's jaw tightened. "What kind of lessons?""The kind that might keep him alive when someone tries to put a knife in his back." Salvatore's voice remained calm, but there was steel underneath it. "The kind tha
— 74 —
The steakhouse was the kind of place that whispered wealth rather than shouting it. Dark wood, leather seating, and the soft clink of expensive silverware against fine china. Michael felt underdressed despite wearing one of the nicer shirts Alexis had bought him. This wasn't his world, and everyone here seemed to know it.Salvatore Russo sat across from him, cutting into a steak that probably cost more than most people spent on groceries in a week. He looked every inch the successful businessman in his tailored suit and gold watch, but Michael had seen him in action. He knew what lay beneath the civilized exterior."You look nervous, kid," Salvatore observed, not looking up from his plate. "Relax. This is just dinner between business associates.""Is that what we are?" Michael asked, barely touching his own meal."That depends entirely on you." Salvatore took a sip of wine that probably cost more than Michael's rent. "But we'll get to that. First, tell me how your legitimate business

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