2026-08-26 23:43:54
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CHAPTER 159
Dinner that evening was held in the small dining room, with two places set for a table that had once held four. Reginald sat at the head, Holt stood in his usual place by the sideboard, and Darius sat at the old man's right hand, cutting his chicken into small, pieces and not eating any of it. The candles flickered and somewhere in the house, a clock ticked. "The agents were here again," Reginald said, after a while when the silence became awkward. "I heard." "I was told they asked about you." "I am aware." Darius set down his fork. "I told Castellano I would help in any way I could." "I'm sure you did." Reginald studied him, and Darius met the look with the tired, steady face he had practiced in the mirror. "You were upstairs the whole of yesterday?" "Yes, grandpa. I was." "Alan says you didn't come down. And you didn't even go for your daily run." "I couldn't." It was the first thing he had said all evening that felt true. "I cou
CHAPTER 158
By noon, the nation had split in two. The first reports ran on every network, with the anchors choosing their words as carefully as men crossing ice. "Four federal detainees recovered. Condition critical. Authorities describe a level of violence they say is without precedent." The footage of the gravel turnout, taped off and lit by the red wash of emergency lights, played in a loop under a banner that read "MUTILATED" Within an hour, the opinion programs had begun. "This is barbarism," a commentator in a blue suit declared, rapping the desk. "These men were in federal custody. Whatever they did, they were entitled to the protection of the law. If we allow this kind of thing, we're no better than the people we claim to prosecute." "With respect," said the woman across from him, "these men murdered a federal agent for money. One of them was a known terrorist who has gotten away with so many crimes because he has the people in power in his pockets.
CHAPTER 157
Trooper Daniel Pruitt sat in the back of an ambulance with a foil blanket around his shoulders and a paper cup of coffee he had not touched. His hands would not stop shaking. Every few seconds he looked down at them as if they belonged to someone else, and every time, he saw the gravel turnout again, the four shapes laid out in a neat row, and the slow, terrible understanding that the shapes were breathing. "Take your time," the county detective said gently. "I honestly thought it was a pile of clothes," Pruitt said. "I almost drove past." He swallowed. "One of them moved. His chest. It went up, and it came down, and I thought, that's a man. And then I got closer and I..." He stopped. The detective waited. Behind them, paramedics were lifting the last of the four onto a gurney with the careful, silent economy of people who had stopped trusting their own voices. "There were no hands," Pruitt said at last. "On two of them. And the faces. They
CHAPTER 156
By the time Darius turned to Deacon, the bulb was flickering and an owl had called twice beyond the walls and fallen silent. Deacon knelt in the shadow of his chains, lips moving in something that sounded like prayer. "You had the least to gain," Darius said. "You wanna tell me why it was so easy?" "I don't know," Deacon whispered. "I wish you had a better answer." "I actually don't know! She was just a name." "She paid you and she trusted you. But what did you do? You decided to betray her and feed her to the wolves." Deacon sobbed openly. Darius let him. "I'm going to tell you who she was," he said. "All of you." He told them about the highway shoulder, the laundry cart, the way Natasha did everything she did to make him survive a deadly accident, and the last thing she said to him: "I really hope you don't regret it." His voice shook, and he did not stop it. Jonathan, awake again, wept through the fog of his pain. Colby turned
CHAPTER 155
⚠️ Mature content. This chapter contains graphic torture and mutilation. Reader discretion is advised.----- The first thing Colby Varnell did when the cellar door opened was laugh. It was a dry, cracked sound, and it carried farther than it should have in the cold room. He hung from the wall by his wrists, the chain biting into his skin, and watched the tall figure descend the stone steps. "Well," Colby said. "The kid from the field office. I wondered when you'd show your face." Darius said nothing. He crossed the floor, pulled the cord of the single bulb until it swung in a slow arc, and set a metal case down on the concrete. He had pulled off the balaclava. Without it, the hollows under his eyes looked like bruises, and his jaw was set in a way that made him look older than he was. "Mr. Argent," Jonathan whispered, as if the name might still protect him. "Mr. Argent, please, whatever you think we..." "Quiet." The word wasn't lo
CHAPTER 154
At the Argent estate, the staff moved through the afternoon like people walking on thin ice. Alan stood in the servants' corridor with his back against the wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his heartbeat so loud that he was certain it would give him away. Two federal agents had just left the kitchen. One of them had thanked him for his time and handed him a card. "If you remember anything else." He stared at the card. Then he tucked it inside his jacket and walked to the stairs, climbing slowly, a hand on the banister, rehearsing in his head the words the young master had given him the night before. "If anyone asks, I'm in my room. I haven't slept. I told you not to disturb me." He had agreed without asking why. He hadn't wanted to know. At the top of the stairs, the door to Darius's room stood closed, a small card still hanging on the handle. Alan lifted his
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