REVENGE OF THE MOURNER

What Can An Ex-Con Like You Even Do, Huh?!

Leon ended the call without another word and handed the phone back to Evelyn.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone separate us,” he said firmly.

“But… they threatened to erase me from the family tree…”

“That bothers you, Eve?”

“I don’t know. I mean… I know how awful they’ve been to you, to your mom, to your sister. But… they’re still my family. I… I’m confused…”

Leon furrowed his brows, trying to understand Evelyn’s struggle.

Truth be told, he’d be glad to cut ties with the Harringtons altogether. After all, his current wealth and power—earned through blood and sweat in The Nocturn these past few years—far surpassed anything they had. But if Evelyn didn’t want to sever that connection, he wouldn’t force her.

“Don’t think too much about it, alright? I’ll make sure they don’t strike your name from the Harringtons’ family tree,” Leon said, lifting Evelyn’s chin gently and flashing her a warm smile.

It took her a few seconds, but she finally smiled back. In her eyes, Leon saw sadness, confusion, and disappointment all swirling together.

“You hungry? Want me to make something? Since we’re already in the kitchen,” Leon said, walking over to the fridge and pulling it open.

“Hmm, yeah. I haven’t eaten anything all day,” Evelyn replied.

“Then go ahead and wait in Mom’s room while I cook. My first meal for my beloved wife in five years. I promise you’ll love it,” he grinned, pulling out ingredients.

Evelyn gave him a faint smile. “You sure you don’t want help? I can at least chop some things.”

“No need. Just keep Mom company. She might need something.”

“Alright then. I’ll be in the room.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

The way he called her that made Evelyn blush a little. She turned and quietly made her way to Leon’s mom’s room.

Once she was gone, Leon pulled out his phone and typed a message to Dimitri:

[You got a list of the richest people in Greystone Hollow? If you do, send me their profiles. I want to see if any of them can be my allies.]

...

At the Harrington estate…

Gregory stormed into his father’s study.

Roger sat at his desk, flipping through the morning’s business reports his assistant had delivered.

“Dad, I still can’t reach those thugs. What should we do?”

Roger looked up, pulling off his thick glasses.

“Still no word from them? So we don’t even know if that bastard Leon’s been dealt with or not?”

“No, we don’t, Dad.”

Roger clicked his tongue in frustration. Without an update, he couldn’t report anything to Victor Kerstel. And damn it—Gregory had no backup plan.

“I’m sorry, Dad. This isn’t like them. I’ve tried calling several of them, but none are picking up…”

Roger closed his eyes, massaging his temples, then locked eyes with his son again.

“Go over there. To that bastard’s mother’s house.”

“Me?” Gregory frowned.

“Yes. You hired those incompetent street rats. Now go see what the hell is going on yourself and report everything to me. Got it?!”

Gregory didn’t want to. His dislocated shoulder still hurt like hell. Traveling in that condition was a pain.

But his father was pissed. And Gregory knew better than to push him when he was in this mood. The punishment wouldn’t be worth it.

“Okay, Dad,” Gregory finally muttered, turning to leave.

“You don’t have to go, Greg,” said Verona, stepping into the room. “That miserable punk’s still there. At his mother’s place. And he’s doing just fine. Your thugs failed.”

Gregory froze. He turned to look at her, confused. “What do you mean, Mom?”

Verona kept walking until she passed him, locking eyes with Roger.

“I just called Evelyn, tried to talk her into going through with our plan. Guess who grabbed the phone and yelled at me?”

Roger squinted. “That bastard?”

“Exactly,” Verona hissed. “He snatched the phone and told me flat-out that we’ll never break them apart. He disrespected us, Roger. He mocked us!”

Roger felt his wife’s fury—and matched it. The urge to destroy Leon and his family burned hotter than ever.

“So, he’s there now?” Roger asked.

“Yes.”

“And Evelyn?”

“With him.”

Roger tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. His brow creased into two sharp lines.

“We need to do something, Roger,” Verona pressed. “We can’t let him get away with this.”

“I know. I know,” Roger replied, looking her in the eye. “Here’s what we’ll do. We call a family meeting. We’ll explain our situation to them, then ask for their support. If they agree, we’ll punish that bastard, and we’ll talk about cutting Evelyn off—at least we can remove her monthly allowance. We’ll let them know the price of making us angry.”

...

At one of the Kerstel family’s luxury villas…

Two men sat across from each other, a long table between them piled with food and drinks.

One of them was Victor—Jonathan’s father. The other went by Alex, a professional hitman once hired by one of Victor’s associates.

“That’s all I want. Make him helpless and bring him to me. I’ll finish him myself. But if that’s not possible, just kill him there and bring me his corpse. Got me?” Victor growled.

For about twenty minutes, Victor had explained everything to Alex—including Jonathan’s condition, which left him seething. He promised Alex a hundred million dollars—far more than any job he’d taken before.

“This guy… who exactly is he? Does he have protection in this city?” Alex asked.

“I suspect he’s got a friend in the military,” Victor said. “The family of the girl my son was going to propose to told me a man claiming to be a soldier showed up at the engagement party and helped him escape. We should assume he’s legit.”

Alex nodded slowly, rubbing his jaw.

“Alright. I’m in. One week deadline, right?” he asked.

“That’s right. Finish early and you’ll get a bonus.”

Alex raised an eyebrow and smirked, nodding again.

“Then I’ll get started. Or is there’s anything else you want to tell me?”

Victor paused, then said, “Actually, one more thing. The girl my son wanted to marry—Leon’s wife—I want her too. Alive. You understand?”

Alex gave a slow, devilish grin. “No problem. I won’t kill the girl.”

...

Later that night, just past midnight…

A taxi pulled up. Rose got out, shoulders slumped, feet dragging. Her face was the picture of exhaustion and misery.

The front door opened before she reached the porch. Leon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her.

“You always come home this late?” he asked.

“Yeah. Why?” Rose snapped.

“So you leave Mom alone all night with no one to look after her?”

Rose took a deep breath. Rage twisted her face.

“Shut your damn mouth, Leon! You think I like leaving Mom alone for hours? You think I don’t worry about her while I’m gone? Goddamn it! If I had a choice, I’d take a different job—one I could do from home. But I don’t. So I bust my ass out there all night long just to afford her meds and therapy. And you? What the hell have you done for Mom in the past five years, huh?! Anything?!”

Her face turned red, her eyes wide with fury. Leon stayed calm, though her words cut deep. He knew Rose was hurting. He understood.

“I’m not blaming you, Rose. I want to help you,” Leon said. “Starting now, you stay with Mom 24/7. No more working in that place.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Leon. If I quit, how the hell are we gonna live? And what do you even know about where I work?”

“I know,” Leon said. “I know exactly where you work.”

Her frown deepened. “Then say it. Tell me where I’ve been working for these couple of years.”

Leon sighed. His eyes softened with sympathy.

“You work at a strip club called Lust & Ashes. Every night, you’re up on that stage, dancing for drooling creeps who stare at your body like animals.”

BAM!

Rose’s eyes went wide. Her face went pale.

“You… how do you know I work there?” she whispered.

Leon didn’t answer. No way he’d tell her it was Dimitri who gave him that information.

“For your own good, Rose… just quit. I’ll find you a job you can do from home. And don’t worry about money. I’ll handle it.”

Her expression hardened again. His words sounded like pity, and she hated it.

“What can an ex-con like you even do, huh?! Can you make as much money as I do every month? Can you?!” Rose snapped, her voice sharp and accusing.

Leon opened his mouth, ready to say something to calm her down, but just then, something caught his eye near the front gate.

Whoosh!

Without thinking, Leon moved forward and raised his left arm, snatching something out of the air—right before it could strike Rose.

It’s an arrow!

His eyes darted toward the gate, scanning for movement.

There, he saw someone—a man?—dressed head-to-toe in black, riding a black motorcycle. He made a sharp turn, then sped off into the distance, disappearing from view.

“What’s going on?” Rose gasped.

Leon studied the arrow in his hand, then snapped it in half.

“Nothing. Get inside,” he said coolly.

Confused and annoyed, Rose hesitated but went inside.

Leon remained on the porch, eyes fixed on the road.

Then he pulled out his phone and made a call.

[Yes, sir?]

“Someone just came queitly to my mom’s house and tried to harm my sister. I need you to trace him.”

...