Wrath of the Forsaken Son

Chapter 5

The dust from the shattered chandeliers was still settling on the floor of the Grand Azure Hotel. The air was thick with the smell of the black bile Mr. Callaghan had coughed up—a smell that proved, beyond any doubt, that the patriarch had been poisoned.

The wealthy guests, who had been laughing just moments ago, were now backing away from the Mercer family as if they carried a plague.

Madam Mercer’s face was a mask of crumbling makeup and raw panic. She looked at her husband, then at her son Silas, who was trembling so hard his teeth were chattering. Finally, she looked at Jian.

"This is a lie!" she shrieked, her voice hitting a high, desperate note. "Mr. Callaghan is confused! The sickness has made him see things that aren't there. Silas, tell them! Tell them we only ever gave him the best medicine!"

Silas couldn't speak. He was staring at Jian’s hands—the hands that had just brought a man back from the dead.

Jian stepped forward. Every step he took sounded like a drumbeat in the silent room. He didn't look at the guards or the guests. He walked straight toward the woman who had called herself his mother for twenty years.

"The medicine was poison, Margaret," Jian said. His voice was calm, which made it even more terrifying. "But I don't care about your petty greed for the Callaghan Group anymore. That is for the law to handle. I want one thing from you. One truth."

He leaned in closer, his eyes turning into shards of ice. "The fire. Twenty years ago. The night my biological parents burned to death in their sleep. You were the first ones on the scene. You were the ones who 'rescued' me and 'inherited' the management of their estate. Tell me the truth about that night."

Madam Mercer’s eyes flickered. For a split second, a look of pure, sharp guilt flashed across her face before she buried it under a layer of rage.

"You ungrateful dog!" she screamed. She raised her hand, her heavy gold rings glinting in the light, and swung a hard slap toward Jian’s face. "We took you out of the gutter! We fed you! We let you live in our house! And now you come here and accuse us of murder?"

The slap never landed.

Jian’s hand moved faster than a snake. He caught her wrist mid-air. His grip was like a steel vice. Madam Mercer gasped, her face twisting in pain as she felt the bones in her arm groan under his strength.

"Let go of my mother!" Silas shouted, stumbling forward.

Jian didn't even look at him. He kept his eyes locked on Madam Mercer.

"Five years," Jian said softly. "I spent five years in the Abyss for Silas’s crime. Five years of darkness. Five years of silence. I did it because I thought I owed you for raising me. I thought I was paying a debt of blood."

He tightened his grip just a fraction more. Madam Mercer fell to her knees, whimpering.

"Today, that debt is paid in full," Jian continued. "We are even. I am no longer your foster son. I am no longer your shield. I have severed the bloodline you tried to fake."

He leaned down so his lips were right next to her ear.

"Listen to me carefully. From this second onward, if any Mercer breathes my name in public, I will return and take a tooth from your mouth. If you or your son ever dare to touch my wife, Elara, again... I will not take a tooth. I will take a life. Do you understand?"

Madam Mercer nodded frantically, tears of pain and fear streaming down her face. Jian released her wrist, and she collapsed into a heap on the ruined carpet.

Lord Halloway, seeing the tide had turned completely, cleared his throat. "Security! Get these people out of here! The Mercers are no longer welcome in this hotel or in my presence!"

The irony was not lost on Jian. Halloway, the man who had been trying to force Elara into marriage minutes ago, was now trying to act like a hero.

The guards, seeing that Jian was the one truly in control, didn't hesitate. They grabbed Silas and his parents, dragging them toward the exit. The guests jeered at them, throwing insults where they had previously thrown smiles.

As Silas was being hauled through the shattered mahogany doors, he reached into his pocket with his good hand. He pulled out a small, encrypted burner phone. His face was no longer pale with fear; it was twisted with a dark, oily hatred.

He huddled into the corner of the elevator as the doors closed, hiding from the guards’ view. He pressed a speed-dial button.

"Hello?" a deep, gravelly voice answered on the other end.

"It's Silas Mercer," Silas hissed, his voice shaking with venom. "The plan failed. The brat is back. He’s not the weakling we sent away five years ago. He’s learned something... something dangerous. He’s asking questions about the fire."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. The air in the elevator seemed to drop ten degrees.

"He survived the Abyss and came back seeking the truth?" the voice asked. It sounded amused, like a cat watching a mouse run into a corner.

"He knows too much," Silas whispered. "If he keeps digging, he’ll find out who really gave the order twenty years ago. You promised to protect us if we kept him quiet!"

"Calm yourself, Silas," the voice said. "If a needle can bring a man back to life, a blade can send him back to the dirt. I will send the 'Shadow Hand' Syndicate. By tomorrow morning, Jian Mercer will be a memory, and this time, there won't be enough of him left to bury."

"And the Callaghan Group?" Silas asked.

"Kill the husband. Capture the wife. The girl is the key to the final part of the Codex. Do not fail me again."

The call ended. Silas looked at his reflection in the gold-plated elevator doors. He touched his bruised arm and smiled. "Enjoy your reunion while you can, Jian. The Shadow Hand is coming, and they never miss."

Back in the ballroom, Jian was holding Elara. She was shaking, her head buried in his chest. Mr. Callaghan was being helped into a more comfortable chair by hotel staff.

Jian looked at the door Silas had just disappeared through. His eyes narrowed. He could feel it—the lingering scent of a threat. His master in the Abyss had taught him more than just medicine; he had taught him how to sense the approach of death.

"Jian?" Elara looked up, her eyes red from crying. "It's really over? They're gone?"

Jian stroked her hair, but his gaze remained on the shadows near the entrance.

"For now," Jian said.