Rise of the forgotten general

The trap springs

Morning light filtered through the Parker residence, but peace was nowhere to be found.

Fiona paced back and forth in her room, her expression a mix of panic and fury. She had barely slept after last night’s banquet. The image of Cole standing tall, refusing to kneel before Blake Morgan, still burned in her mind.

She wasn’t proud of him. She was terrified.

“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath. “You’ve doomed us all.”

The door creaked open, and Henry Parker entered, his face haggard. He had drunk himself to sleep after the banquet, but worry lines carved deeper into his forehead now.

“Where is he?” Henry asked.

Fiona’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Downstairs. Acting like nothing happened.”

Henry swore under his breath. “Does he not realize Blake controls half this city? One word from him, and we’ll be ruined.”

Fiona whirled on her father. “Then do something! Kick him out! Divorce him from me! Why should I suffer because of him?”

Henry rubbed his temples. “It’s not that simple. If we discard him now, Blake will see it as weakness. He’ll crush us anyway. And if Cole has even a shred of pride left, he won’t leave quietly.”

Fiona’s hands curled into fists. Pride. Cole Brady had no right to pride. Not after three years of being nothing more than the Parker family’s shame.

Downstairs, Cole sat at the breakfast table, calmly eating porridge as if the world weren’t crumbling around him.

Fiona stormed in, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she snapped.

Cole set his spoon down and looked at her. “Yes. For once, I refused to crawl.”

Fiona’s face turned red. “You embarrassed me. You embarrassed this family! Blake won’t forgive you, Cole. And when he strikes, we’ll all pay the price.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed slightly. “If Blake wanted peace, he would’ve left me alone long ago. Last night wasn’t the start of this war, it was the moment I stopped hiding from it.”

Fiona stared at him, searching his face for fear, for hesitation,anything she could use to mock him. But all she found was a calm steadiness that unsettled her more than his silence ever had.

“You’re insane,” she spat, before turning and storming out.

By noon, Blake made his move.

It came not with thugs or blades, but with the law.

A black sedan pulled up in front of the Parker residence, and two uniformed officers stepped out. Henry rushed to greet them, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Officers, may I ask”

“We’re here for Cole Brady,” one interrupted curtly. “He’s to be brought in for questioning.”

Henry’s stomach dropped. Fiona, standing behind him, gasped. “Questioning? For what?”

The officer pulled out a folded paper. “Assault. A complaint was filed by a man named Victor Lane.”

Recognition flickered in Cole’s mind. Victor, the thug who had harassed the fruit vendor. Blake’s pawn.

Cole stepped forward calmly. “I’ll come with you.”

Henry grabbed his arm. “Are you mad? If you go with them, Blake will bury you!”

Cole gently freed himself from Henry’s grip. “Running would only prove his lies. Don’t worry… I’ll return.”

Fiona scoffed. “Don’t bother. You’ll rot in a cell, and honestly, you deserve it.”

Cole didn’t respond. He simply followed the officers into the waiting car, his back straight, his eyes steady.

At the station, Cole was shoved into an interrogation room. The air smelled of stale coffee and cigarette smoke.

Victor Lane sat smugly at the table, a bandage on his head. “That’s him! That’s the bastard who attacked me.”

Cole leaned back in his chair, unbothered. “You were harassing an old man. I stopped you. If you call that an attack, then yes, I did it.”

The officer scribbling notes raised an eyebrow. “So you admit to assault?”

Cole’s lips curved faintly. “I admit to defending someone weaker than me. If that’s a crime, then the world is upside down.”

Victor slammed a hand on the table. “He’s lying! He nearly killed me! Look at this” He gestured dramatically at his bandage. “I could have permanent damage because of him.”

The door opened, and Blake Morgan stepped inside, dressed immaculately in a dark suit. He smiled like a wolf entering a pen of sheep.

“Well, well. Cole Brady.” He walked around the table, his presence filling the room. “Did you think last night would end without consequences?”

Cole met his gaze, unflinching. “You’re afraid.”

Blake paused, then laughed. “Afraid? Of you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Cole tilted his head. “If you weren’t afraid, you wouldn’t need tricks like this. You’d face me directly.”

The smile on Blake’s lips wavered. Just slightly. Enough for Victor to glance at him nervously.

Blake’s eyes hardened. “Enjoy your bravado while you can. By tomorrow, you’ll be formally charged. And once you’re in prison, Fiona will be free of you. The Parkers will thank me for it.”

Cole’s gaze didn’t waver. “You mistake patience for defeat, Blake. But I’ve endured worse than you can imagine. You’ll learn soon enough, cornered dogs bite hardest.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Blake’s smile returned, sharper than ever. He leaned close, his voice a whisper only Cole could hear.

“You’ll regret ever crossing me, Brady. I’ll strip you of everything, your freedom, your wife, your dignity. And when I’m finished, I’ll crush whatever’s left under my heel.”

Cole’s calm eyes met his, and for the first time, Blake felt something he hadn’t expected. Not fear. Not weakness.

But certainty.

It unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

That evening, Mason stood outside the station, waiting. When Cole finally walked out, free for now, Mason’s grin split his face.

“They couldn’t hold you, huh?”

Cole adjusted his sleeves. “Blake underestimated me. Again.”

Mason clapped him on the back. “Good. Let him think you’re cornered. The more arrogant he gets, the harder he’ll fall.”

Cole’s eyes turned toward the skyline, where the tallest building bore the Morgan family crest. His jaw tightened.

“He thinks he’s won the first battle,” Cole murmured. “But the war has only just begun.”