2025-12-21 20:29:28
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Chapter 67
Two weeks passed, and instead of things settling down, they only grew worse. Barry and Jace fought constantly. It wasn’t loud arguments every time, sometimes it was sharp looks, clipped words, doors slammed just a little too hard. Other times, it exploded into full-blown shouting matches that left the air thick and sour. Michael tried everything. He talked to them separately, then together. He reminded them of the mission, of everything they had survived. He warned them, pleaded with them, even snapped at them once or twice when his patience finally ran thin. Nothing worked. Every time it seemed like they might cool off, Mira would appear, leaning too close to Barry, laughing too softly, touching his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jace would see it, his jaw would tighten, and whatever fragile peace existed would shatter again. Michael could feel it draining him. His plans stalled. His thoughts scattered. Their next move, crucial, dangerous, and carefully
Chapter 66
“Oh… so that’s what happened.” Celia said quietly. They were gathered in the living room, Michael and Barry had just finished recounting everything that had unfolded inside the Blackwood mansion. From the ambush to the threat to every calculated smile Adrian had worn while holding their lives in his hands. By the time Michael fell silent, the room felt heavier than before. Jace was the first to break it. “You know.” He said, leaning forward with a scoff, “You could’ve at least woken me up. I would’ve liked to join the fight.” Michael blinked. Barry slowly turned to look at him. “…Join?” He repeated, incredulous. Michael rubbed his temple. “Jace, we were dragged into a death match under sniper fire.” He said flatly. “Guards. Guns. Three men built like trucks.” Barry let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, sure. Next time we’ll politely ask them to pause the execution so we can come get you.” Jace opened his mouth, then shut it. “…Okay. Fair.” Celia exhaled shakily, folding her arms to grou
Chapter 65
The next morning came quietly, almost deceptively so. The long dining table inside the Blackwood mansion was already filled, polished wood reflecting the pale winter light filtering through tall windows. Steam rose from untouched cups of coffee. Plates sat full, food growing cold. Barry and Michael’s seats were empty. Jace leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, irritation written plainly across his face. “Unbelievable.” He muttered. “They really picked today of all days to sleep in? We’re in enemy territory, not a vacation lodge.” No one laughed. Celia kept glancing toward the doors, unease settling deeper with every passing second. “They would’ve told us if they were leaving early.” She said, more to herself than anyone else. “Something’s not right.” Jace scoffed. “Or they’re just too comfortable. Ever since Michael started winning nonstop, he’s been-” “That’s enough.” Mira cut in coolly, though her gaze was fixed on the far end of the room. Adrian Blackwood sat the
Chapter 64
Michael’s fingers dug into the fractured marble. The pain was everywhere, his ribs were screaming, his shoulder was burning, his lungs barely pulling in air, but beneath it, something else stirred. The memory of Celia’s voice didn’t fade, it anchored him. Mountain’s shadow loomed over him, massive a d final. The giant flexed his hand once, knuckles cracking, already certain this was over. But Michael laughed. It was low at first, rough, dragged out of his chest like broken glass. Then it steadied. That sound alone made Mountain pause. Adrian straightened on the balcony. “Oh?” Michael planted one knee, then the other. His movements were slow, deliberate, not rushed, not desperate. He wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand and looked up at Mountain, eyes sharp now, burning with focus rather than rage. “I told you…” He said hoarsely, “Losing isn’t an option.” Mountain frowned. He charged. This time, Michael didn’t meet him head-on. Mountain’s fist tore through the
Chapter 63
Their eyes moved at the same time, drawn toward the far end of the main room. A hooded figure stood beneath the towering shadows of the chandelier, half-hidden between marble pillars and expensive drapery. The silence that followed felt heavy. Adrian’s lips curved upward. “Ah,” He said lazily, clapping once. “There he is.” The hooded figure stepped forward. Each step echoed through the vast room, boots striking the polished marble with slow certainty. When he reached the center, he raised both hands and pulled back the hood. Michael’s stomach dropped. The man was massive. Not just tall, but wide, his shoulders broad enough to block out parts of the chandelier’s glow. Thick scars ran across his face and neck, some old and faded, others still angry and raised. His eyes were dull, empty of emotion, like he had already decided how this would end. Adrian’s voice rang out, delighted. “Michael. Barry. Allow me to introduce you properly.” He gestured grandly. “This is Mountain.” Mou
Chapter 62
Michael and Barry recognized the man immediately. He was the same brute Michael had defeated months ago, the one whose reign over the underground pit had ended with blood on the floor and Michael standing victorious. Back then, the man had sworn through broken teeth that he would remember Michael’s face. Now he was here. Barry let out a short, incredulous laugh. “It’s you.” He said, rolling his shoulders as he raised his fists. “Back for more?” The man’s eyes burned with hatred. He didn’t answer. He charged. There was no warning or buildup, just raw momentum as the massive body surged forward like a freight train. Michael reacted instantly. “Move!” He shouted. Both of them split apart at the same time. The man thundered between them and slammed straight into a wine shelf. Glass exploded outward, bottles shattering as red liquid splashed across the marble floor like spilled blood. Adrian clapped his hands together, laughter echoing through the vast hall. “Woah! What a start!” H
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