
The banquet hall glittered with chandeliers, each crystal reflecting a brilliance that mocked Cole Brady’s existence. Laughter and applause echoed across the grand room, but none of it belonged to him. He stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of water in his hand, as if he were nothing more than a servant instead of the man who had once been promised a future.
“Cole, don’t just stand there like an idiot,” Fiona, his wife, hissed under her breath. Her gown shimmered with gold embroidery, making her look like the perfect daughter of the wealthy Parker family. She glanced at him with eyes colder than ice. “At least pretend to be useful. People are watching.”
Cole forced a small nod. He was used to this. Three years of marriage had taught him exactly what role he played in this family: not a husband, not a partner, but a discarded burden they could mock whenever they pleased.
Across the hall, a tall man in a designer suit raised his glass. Blake Morgan the city’s golden boy, heir to the Morgan Group was delivering a speech that had the entire room captivated. His words flowed like honey, his smile dazzling. Even Fiona’s eyes softened as she looked at him, a look Cole had never once received.
“Congratulations to Fiona and her family for hosting such a remarkable evening,” Blake said, raising his glass in a toast. “And to think, this is only the beginning. With our partnership, the Parkers will rise even higher.”
The crowd erupted in cheers. Fiona’s father, Henry Parker, beamed with pride. His wife dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, overcome with emotion. And Cole, he stood there like a ghost, invisible in a hall full of people.
Blake’s eyes slid toward him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course,” he added, his voice laced with mockery, “every great family has its… eccentric members. Fiona, I must admire your patience.”
The crowd laughed. All eyes turned to Cole, some filled with disdain, others with pity. His knuckles tightened around the glass, but he said nothing. Years of humiliation had taught him that silence was his only shield.
Fiona leaned closer, her whisper sharp as a blade. “Don’t you dare embarrass me. If you care about me at all, just keep your mouth shut.”
Care about her? Cole swallowed the bitter laugh that rose in his throat. Once, he had. Once, he had believed that love could overcome status, that devotion could erase the sneers of her family. But three years of mockery had drained those illusions away.
Dinner was served. The guests gathered around tables covered in silk cloth and golden cutlery. Cole was left standing, no seat reserved for him. He might as well have been part of the staff.
As he stood there, ignored, the memories he kept buried threatened to surface. A different life. A different name. Blood, fire, and the roar of soldiers chanting under his command. He had once been someone. He had once carried a legacy greater than any of these men could imagine.
But that life was gone,or so they all believed.
“Cole,” Henry Parker’s voice cut through his thoughts. The elder’s face twisted with disgust as he gestured toward the door. “Go fetch more wine. The Morgan family deserves the best, not the cheap bottles you brought last time.”
Laughter followed. Cole set his glass down and nodded, as though he were the obedient dog they believed him to be.
On his way out, he caught Blake whispering something to Fiona. She laughed softly, a laugh she had never given him. It struck deeper than any insult.
The cold night air greeted him as he stepped outside. He clenched his fists, breathing deeply to calm the storm raging inside. He could endure the humiliation. He had endured worse. But every man has his limit.
As he walked toward the storage room to collect the wine, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He almost ignored it, no one ever called him but curiosity won.
The number was unfamiliar. He answered.
A deep voice crackled through the line, steady and commanding. “Cole Brady.”
His heart skipped. Few people in this city even remembered his full name. “Who is this?”
There was a pause, heavy with meaning. Then the voice replied, “The time has come. You’ve hidden long enough. Your enemies are moving, and if you don’t rise now, everything you once fought for will be lost forever.”
Cole froze. The words struck like thunder. For years he had buried his past, lived as a shadow. He thought no one knew. But this voice, this stranger had found him.
Before he could respond, the line went dead.
He stood there, gripping the phone, his chest heaving with emotions he had locked away for too long. The humiliation, the betrayal, the endless scorn, it was nothing compared to what he had once endured. And perhaps… nothing compared to what was coming.
Back inside the hall, the laughter continued. Blake raised his glass again, Fiona’s hand resting lightly on his arm as though she belonged there. Cole walked back in carrying the wine like a servant, but his mind was no longer clouded with despair.
Something inside him had awakened.
And when it awakens fully, the Parkers, the Morgans, and everyone else who mocked him would remember the name they had tried so hard to bury.
Cole Brady.
Latest Chapter
The plan
The exposure plan didn’t begin with headlines.It began with silence.Cole knew better than to rush the truth into the open. Uzumaki thrived on chaos; he bent it, redirected it, fed on it. If Cole wanted to hurt him, he had to starve him first.For three days, nothing happened.No fires.No warnings.No bodies.The city grew uneasy.⸻The First LeakTrojan made the call just before midnight.“I’ve got something,” he said, voice tight. “Shipping manifests. Names tied to Uzumaki that shouldn’t exist on paper.”Cole sat up straight. “Clean?”“As clean as it gets,” Trojan replied. “If this surfaces, it won’t just hurt him. It’ll attract attention he can’t buy off.”Cole closed his eyes briefly. “Send it through the usual channel.”A pause.“And Cole,” Trojan added quietly, “if this backfires—”“It won’t,” Cole said. “But if it does, stay alive.”Trojan exhaled. “That’s the plan.”When the files arrived, Mendes whistled low.“This isn’t just criminal,” he said. “It’s international.”Cole n
When masks begun to slip
The city didn’t sleep, but it watched.After Blake’s death and Trojan’s quiet disappearance from Uzumaki’s immediate circle, something subtle changed. Guards doubled. Routes shifted. Meetings moved without notice. Uzumaki’s empire was still standing, but it had begun to breathe differently—shorter breaths, sharper reactions.Cole noticed all of it.He sat with Eden, Shane, and Mendes in the warehouse, the air thick with cigarette smoke and quiet focus. No one spoke for a long moment. They were past speeches now.“Trojan sent another drop,” Mendes said, sliding a flash drive across the table. “Financial routes. Names. Dates.”Cole picked it up but didn’t plug it in yet. “He’s committing,” he said. “That means Uzumaki is already testing him.”Shane frowned. “Then Trojan won’t last.”“He doesn’t need to,” Cole replied. “He just needs to last long enough.”Eden shifted. “And Fiona?”Cole’s hand paused.“She’s closer to Uzumaki than any of us,” Cole said quietly. “Whether she wants to be o
The cost of momentum
The city reacted to Blake’s disappearance the way it always did to sudden violence at the top: quietly, cautiously, and with a deep, collective instinct for self-preservation. Deals paused. Meetings were postponed. Men who once spoke loudly now chose their words carefully, if they spoke at all.Power had shifted.And everyone felt it.Cole sat in the dim light of the warehouse office, papers spread across the table like pieces of a broken map. Names were circled. Lines drawn and redrawn. Blake’s removal had opened gaps, but gaps were dangerous. They invited chaos—or opportunity.Eden stood near the door, arms crossed. Shane leaned against the wall, watching Cole with sharp, patient eyes.“Trojan’s boxed in,” Eden said. “Uzumaki took away his buffer.”Cole nodded. “That was the point.”Shane frowned. “Then why hasn’t Trojan come looking for us?”Cole’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Because he’s deciding which way the wind is blowing.”Eden tilted his head. “And if he chooses Uzumaki?
The news today
The news spread quietly.Not through headlines or sirens, but through the absence Blake left behind. Phones that rang unanswered. Accounts that went dormant overnight. Men who suddenly avoided eye contact when Trojan’s name came up.Blake Morgan had been erased.And everyone who mattered knew exactly who had done it.Trojan’s ReckoningTrojan sat alone in his office long after midnight, the city lights reflecting off the glass like fractured stars. Blake’s empty chair across from him felt heavier than if a body were sitting there.He replayed the last conversation again and again.You were replaceable.Uzumaki’s words echoed in his head, calm and surgical.Trojan poured himself a drink but didn’t touch it. His hand trembled slightly as he set the glass down.“So this is what you do to allies,” he muttered to the empty room.His phone buzzed. A single message.U: We move forward. Together.Trojan stared at the screen, jaw clenched.He typed, deleted, then typed again.Trojan: Understoo
Take him out
Uzumaki didn’t raise his voice when he gave the order.That was what made it terrifying.The penthouse was quiet, washed in soft amber light, the city far below reduced to glittering dots that meant nothing. Uzumaki stood with his back to the room, hands clasped behind him, posture calm. His aide waited a few steps away, head lowered.“Blake has become careless,” Uzumaki said evenly.“Careless people attract attention.”The aide swallowed. “He’s nervous, sir. He thinks Cole is closer than—”Uzumaki turned slowly.“One does not think in my circle,” he said. “One knows.”The aide nodded quickly. “Understood.”Uzumaki walked to the table and picked up a tablet. He tapped the screen once, then slid it back.“He spoke when silence was required,” Uzumaki continued. “He questioned timing. He doubted restraint. Worst of all—he forgot his position.”The aide hesitated. “Trojan—”“Trojan understands survival,” Uzumaki interrupted. “Blake seeks reassurance. I don’t provide that.”A pause.Then U
The weight of what comes next
The rain stopped sometime before morning, leaving the city slick and reflective, like it was holding onto every secret whispered the night before. Cole woke to a quiet that felt wrong. Too clean. Too deliberate.He sat up slowly, listening.No sirens.No phones buzzing.No messages waiting.That was when he knew something had shifted.Cole moved through the apartment with care, the way prison had taught him to—checking corners, windows, exits. Everything was where it should be. And yet, the sense of being watched clung to him like a shadow that refused to separate.He poured himself coffee he didn’t want and stared out at the street.Uzumaki isn’t reacting, he thought. He’s repositioning.That was worse.⸻A Crack in the AllianceAcross the city, Trojan sat alone in his office, staring at the city skyline through reinforced glass. Blake stood near the door, restless, fingers tapping against his phone.“This silence is killing me,” Blake said. “He hasn’t called since last night.”Troja
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