2023-11-06 21:12:31Nate was moved to get into the car. But his eyes didn't blink, they kept staring at the Lucius family. Nate did not close his eyes until the police car had left the courtyard of the Lucius family's luxurious home.
Along the way, Nate was asked many questions by the police about his actions in killing one of the Lucius family servants. But Nate still denies the charges against him because he did not kill anyone.
Nate was interrogated for several hours before being taken to a special prison cell that was very small. His hands and feet were shackled. The room was very dark and claustrophobic because there was not enough ventilation.
"If it has to be like this in the end. Then I will never accept your helping hand," Nate muttered as he imagined the figure of Lucius.
Soon a policeman entered the cell. Nate's eyes began to follow every movement of the police. A flashlight shone brightly in Nate's face. Suddenly, Nate's eyes narrowed slightly from the glare of the light.
"You're tough enough not to admit the murder that happened. Even though the evidence and witnesses are there," the policeman said, casually sitting in the chair he was carrying.
"I'm not going to confess to a crime I never committed," Nate replied without hesitation.
"Then I have good news for you. A pretty good lawyer has agreed to be your defense attorney for the trial," the cop said.
"A lawyer?" muttered Nate in surprise. He hadn't expected to get a lawyer in such a short time.
"Yes. He's quite famous in this town for his cleverness in proving innocence. You'll see him tomorrow," the cop said, shining his flashlight in Nate's face.
"During the trial, you will remain locked up in this jail until it is proven that you are guilty or innocent," the cop continued as he walked out of Nate's jail cell.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Nate muttered as the room went back into complete darkness.
That night, Nate couldn't sleep comfortably because he was handcuffed. The prison was also claustrophobic and noisy with the constant sound of insects. If he hadn't lived a hard life before, he wouldn't have been able to rest at all.
In the morning, a bowl of food and a bottle of water were brought to him in the prison. Nate ate it eagerly, even though it tasted very bland. To relieve himself, Nate had to call the guard to open the cell so he could go to the bathroom.
For a long time, Nate sat in his cell waiting for the lawyer to arrive to help him. The door to Nate's cell finally opened after more than four hours of waiting for his lawyer.
A middle-aged man entered Nate's cell with a policeman. The policeman soon turned on a flashlight that shone directly into Nate's face. This time, Nate moved quickly to avoid the glare of the spotlight.
"You can go," the middle-aged man told the policeman.
"You only have thirty minutes at the most," the policeman said as he left the jail cell.
"Thank you," said the middle-aged man who was Nate's attorney.
"Nate Evander. Suspected of murdering a servant of the Lucius family business group. I didn't expect to be handling a murder case from the Lucius Family Business Group," the middle-aged man said as he sat down on a chair. The lawyer looked thoughtful for a moment as he looked at Nate.
"Excuse me, sir. What's your name?" Nate asked politely.
"Hahaha... No need for such courtesies," the lawyer replied with a big laugh and then stood up and approached Nate.
"I was hired at great expense by Mark Lucius to put you in the most dangerous prison in the world. My name is Pier Orsted," the lawyer whispered into Nate's left ear with a satisfied grin.
"Son of a bitch," Nate muttered as he stared intently at Pier's still grinning face.
"I thought this might happen. There's no way a lawyer would have come to my aid in such a short time after the incident at Lucius' house," Nate said, glaring at Pier who was laughing.
"Don't lose hope like that, Nate. Your punishment will not be too severe since there is no suspicion that you planned the murder. That's why I'm here, to make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison," Pier said as he sat back in his chair.
"I reserve the right to reject you and find another lawyer. You won't let me rot in jail that easily," Nate said fearlessly.
"Too bad that can't happen. My plans are so well thought out that you and the police can't refuse my presence. Just accept it Nate, your life is over since you accepted Lucius' request to stay in his house," Pier argued.
"Not everyone in this world is as rotten as you. I'm sure there are one or two people who can see the truth," Nate said.
"Dream on while you can, Nate. Mark Lucius and the others have planned everything well in advance. There won't be a single mistake you can make to avoid your destiny," Pier said with a grin.
"Just get ready to live in the most dangerous prison in the world, we can make sure you spend your time there," Pier continued as he stood up.
"One more thing. The ugly house and the small plot of land that your mother's father inherited has already been sold by Sicilia. So you don't have to worry when you're in prison, because you won't have a place to go back to," Pier said just before leaving Nate's cell.
"Fuck!" Nate yelled as he stood up.
But the guards rushed in when they heard Nate's scream. They quickly knocked Nate's raging body to the ground. Meanwhile, Pier just smiled with satisfaction as he left Nate's prison room.
"You will pay for everything!" Nate shouted loudly.
"Shut up!" snapped the prison guard as he smashed Nate's temple with a stick from his hip.
Nate just grimaced in pain as he lay on the ground. His jaw was so sore that blood came out of his mouth. The guards left as soon as Nate calmed down. The atmosphere in Nate's prison was pitch black again.
***
Time passed with great difficulty for Nate. He went through each trial with great stress. The lawyer, who was supposed to find a solution for him, instead threw him under the bus and sided with Damian's family.
Nate can only surrender because there is no one to give him hope of survival. The prosecutor demanded that Nate be imprisoned for life. The prison recommended by the court is also the most dangerous prison in the world, isolated from the outside world.
It was on a remote island in the middle of the ocean, populated by dangerous criminals from all over the world. It was recommended because Nate's lawyer claimed that Nate was a psychopath.
Pier claims to have been attacked several times while talking to Nate. It was obviously all an act, as he hadn't had a single conversation with Nate since they first met in prison.
After today's hearing, Nate was immediately taken back to the small jail where he had been staying. Tomorrow the judge will decide on his sentence and announce where he will serve it.
To be continued...
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Chapter 189: The Richest Man No One Knows
Five years is enough time for a city to forget almost anything, if the city wants to forget it badly enough, and Vienna had wanted to forget a great deal. The Lucius name still existed, technically. It sat on a handful of old deeds nobody bothered updating, on a mausoleum in the public cemetery where fewer flowers arrived every year, on the occasional business-school case study about family conglomerates that collapsed under their own cruelty a footnote now, cited the way people cited old scandals they only half remembered the details of, more useful as a cautionary shape than as a story anyone still felt anything about. The Alphons name had gone the same way, faster if anything, folded into two paragraphs of a magazine retrospective about corporate consolidation in the hospitality sector, Fredric's own photograph reduced to a small inset beside a chart showing which of his properties had changed hands and to whom. Robert had kept the government-facing pieces alive, quietly, the wa
Chapter 188: Nate Evander
He didn't answer Luna that night. She hadn't pushed him to, had simply watched him stand there with the question hanging unanswered between them, and after a while she'd risen, touched his arm once, briefly, and let herself out without making him fill a silence he wasn't ready to fill. He'd stood in the kitchen a long while after she left, the last glass still in his hand, and understood, finally, that the question wasn't one he could answer standing in an apartment full of the last two years' furniture, surrounded by everything he'd built to survive a war that no longer existed. He drove to the cemetery three days later, alone, no earpiece, no car following at a discreet distance, because some places had stopped needing an escort the moment the last man who might have threatened him there had already been buried himself. The morning was cold in the particular way autumn got cold before it fully committed to winter, the sky a flat, colorless gray that made the grass look duller tha
Chapter 187: What's Left of Dark Crimson
Jo hadn't set foot in the basement in three weeks, and the strangeness of that still hadn't worn off. He kept catching himself reaching for a phone that didn't need to buzz every hour anymore, kept waking at four in the morning out of pure habit and lying there in the dark of an apartment that actually had windows now, curtains he'd chosen himself, waiting for an emergency that never arrived. The meeting happened at Nate's place, the same kitchen table that had held a hundred plans over two years, coffee rings worn permanent into the wood, though tonight nobody had bothered pulling up a corkboard or a laptop or a floor plan of anything at all. Just five chairs, five people, and a bottle of something dark and expensive that Boars had brought and nobody had touched yet. Nate sat at the head of the table the way he always sat, though something in his posture tonight carried less weight than Jo had seen from him in longer than he could remember, the particular looseness of a man who'd
Chapter 186: Delta Ascendant
Sean had never planned a party for four hundred people before, and it showed in the way he kept checking his phone every few minutes even though every possible thing that could go wrong had already been accounted for three times over by a events coordinator he'd hired specifically because she didn't panic at things Sean still panicked at. The ballroom Delta Group had rented for the night sat on the top two floors of a hotel that, six months ago, would have politely declined a company Sean's size the honor of even asking. Tonight the banners hung floor to ceiling on either side of the stage DELTA GROUP, the logo simple, unadorned, the same clean lettering Sean had picked out himself in a rented apartment two years ago with mismatched furniture and a burner phone buzzing on the table beside him. "You look like you're about to give a eulogy instead of a toast," Joseph said, appearing at his elbow with two glasses of champagne, handing one over without asking whether Sean wanted it. "
Chapter 185: Dominic and Sicilia, Last Images
The letter arrived on prison stationery, the return address stamped rather than written, and Nate turned it over twice in his hands before he let himself open it, standing at the kitchen counter with the morning's coffee gone cold beside him the way it always went cold lately, nobody in this apartment ever quite finishing a cup before the next thing needed doing. He recognized the handwriting before he'd read a single line of it. Careful, looping, the particular practiced neatness of a man who'd spent his whole life believing penmanship was one more small proof of superiority over people who'd never had the leisure to perfect it. “Nate ” “I don't expect a reply. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with one if it came. I've had a great deal of time in here to think about the shape of what happened to me, and I find I keep circling back to one particular morning the party, the recording, the sound of my own voice on every screen in Vienna before I'd even finished my coffee that day. I
Chapter 184: Frans's Inheritance
The apartment Robert's people found him was smaller than the one he'd given up the night he broke into his father's study, three rooms above a dry cleaner's in a part of the city Frans had driven through a hundred times without ever once considering he might live there. The radiator clanked when it ran. The window in the bedroom didn't quite close all the way, so a thin line of cold always found its way in along the sill, and Frans had taken to keeping a rolled towel there, the particular petty domesticity of a man who'd spent thirty-one years with staff to handle exactly this kind of problem and now had nobody but himself. He'd been living there eleven days when Robert's lawyer called to arrange the meeting. "Your uncle would like to see you," the lawyer said, a careful, neutral voice that gave away nothing about what waited on the other end of the arrangement. "There are matters concerning the estate that require your presence, given your father's passing." "Which matters." "I'
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