A Rowling's Vengeance; Back from the dead

Fury

He went to the drawer and pulled out one of the drawers. He reached for the bundles of cash and filled his bag with it without hesitation.

When he reached the bottom, he paused and glanced at the envelope containing the deed to the house that Joseph Rowling had given him, as well as the contract he had signed.

There was no real consequence in the contract that could scare him away from leaving right now, yet the longer he stared at those envelopes, the more he realized how stupid he was.

His mental battle was unlike any other. He didn't want to become the killer machine that the incident a few hours ago had turned him into. He didn't want to lose his humanity, but he also didn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

If he walks away from it all, he felt certain that he would be unable to return to claim it, and he would be left with only the rent his tenants had paid and the house, which was far from what the guy had promised to give him as soon as he was ready to be his legal heir.

He stood away from the chest of drawers, dropping the bag and running his fingers over his hair.

If he stays in the mansion, it means he is willing to kill anybody he needs to in the future and is confident that it will be endless, but he will lose their protection if he leaves.

He walked over to the bed and fell on it with his back slumped. He attempted to close his eyes and sleep, facing the ceiling, to forget everything that had happened.

"Please don't kill me," pleaded the man.

"Seal those lips," his father said from behind him, leading Sam to cover the man's mouth with tape.

Even with the man's lips sealed, the man's plea was so clear in his gaze that Liam didn't need the man's voice to amplify it. He paused, his hands trembling. He shifted his focus from Joseph Rowling to Sam, who nodded firmly.

He stabbed the knife into the man's abdomen with his eyes closed, thinking he might be able to give the man a chance to survive with that, but before he could draw out the knife, the man's body collapsed forward.

His hands came to a halt in the middle of drawing out the knife. He had a strong desire to leave the room and followed that desire. With the knife still halfway in the man's stomach, he took the first step back and many more before fleeing the room.

His reflection in the mirror was a young man who had worked out for a year and had more muscles on his body, looking strong and powerful, but deep inside he was unsure of what lay ahead of him on this path.

***

When he opened his eyes the next morning, he wished it had been a dream that he had awoken from, but when he saw the bag full of money and the half-opened drawer, he sighed.

Last night had passed, and everything that had happened in it had become history. He walked up to the drawer and emptied the contents of the bag into it.

Even though the smell of blood irritated his senses, he cleaned up, dressed, and walked downstairs for breakfast, as frigid as he had become.

As someone who was never been warm-hearted, the past year had made him even colder, and he couldn't believe the emotional turmoil he went through last night emerged from him.

He primarily wanted to get away when it happened, and the last time he attempted to flee was the moment he almost met his creator. He couldn't possibly flee when he was so near to his prize.

They began serving his breakfast as soon as he arrived at the dining table. Joseph Rowling arrived downstairs before they finished.

When he met Liam's gaze, he grinned, and Liam nodded indifferently. "How was your night?" When Liam's focus shifted to the meal he was brought, Joseph Rowling inquired.

"Fine," Liam said simply as he reached for the spoon.

"That's good to hear," Joseph said.

Liam raised his head to meet the man's gaze, his brow slightly arched as he met the man's gaze. "Why do you ask?" After more than a year of eating breakfast with him, this was the first time the man had asked him that question.

"It's a strange question, isn't it?" Joseph uttered an awkward laughter. "Oh, I just wanted to know, I was curious," Joseph explained, clearing his throat to eliminate the awkwardness caused by his laughter.

"So, out of curiosity, I'd like to know why you had me kill someone last night," Liam stated firmly as he met the man's stare.

"There is no amount of determination greater than that required to take a life," Joseph responded quietly. He leaned back after laying his cutlery. "That was to put your resolve to the test."

"I was taught to never get my hands obviously dirty," Liam explained.

"That's something you should talk about with your teacher, not me," Joseph said coldly. "I wanted him dead, and I had you do it for me; you did what I asked, and that's all that matters."

Liam looked at the food he was given and felt his hunger fade at the man's response. He rose up after putting his cutlery down.

"Do not expect me to do your dirty work; if you call me to kill someone else for you in the future, I might just consider killing you first," Liam warned the man.

He hadn't anticipated the first part of the statement to end in a threat, but he didn't back down as he walked out of the dining room steadily, Joseph staring at him.

*****

"He threatened me," Joseph stated triumphantly to Sam. "I believe you were correct in testing him in this manner.

"I was afraid it would turn him cold-hearted, but I've come to realize he's still human and it didn't turn him into a serial killer," Joseph continued, praising his son.

"You said he didn't want to do your dirty jobs, so I think that means he'll be happy to have someone else do it for him," Sam answered to his boss. He choked back a remark about how he was convinced that Liam was anything but kind.

Joseph shook his head and laughed, "Of course, he said that because you taught him not to get his hands dirty." He smiled and added, "He would have killed the man if he hadn't had to do it in front of so many people. By the way, how is the man doing?"

"None of his vital organs were affected, as expected, and he will be back to work soon," Sam said calmly.

"I hope you paid him enough for the test subject he was," Joseph speculated. "When do you think Liam will be ready to receive my official acknowledgement?" Joseph asked, after Sam nodded.

"Whenever you are ready, sir," Sam said, with a small bow.

"You swore with your life that you would coach him to the best of your ability, and I'm wondering when he'll be ready," Joseph asked more seriously now.

"That should be done in three months," Sam replied, bowing even more deeply.

Joseph nodded, his lips curled into a smile. "The party planning process should begin."

****

It had been a few years since Liam had completed the rigorous training under Sam's guidance. His transformation was obvious even in his mirror reflection, which ran deep into his thoughts.

It was nearly impossible to recall what he was like before his rebirth and training. All of that was pushed away into a past life he couldn't be associated with.

Even at the start of his training, when he went to write his final exam, he remembered the look of astonishment on many of his professors' faces when they saw him.

His father had thrown a small celebration in the mansion last night, and his teacher, whom he had obeyed and learned from for more than two years, bowed before him and recognised him as the young master for the first time.

He found it strange to see the man bow so profoundly before him, but the sense of appreciation he received from the man and everyone else in the house was more than he had anticipated.

"Don't drink too much," Joseph Rowling had drunkenly urged him. "You have a party to attend tomorrow."

According to Sam, he was to confront the world as the new recognised heir to Zephyr and a new family member in one of the country's wealthiest families, Rowling.

He was well-versed in the family business, and earlier that day, he held a meeting with all of his father's closest associates. He was familiar with all of their positions on his father's side. He understood who was the most trustworthy among them, as well as everything that kept them loyal to his father and the company.

He selected an outfit from the several formal ensembles that his stylists had stocked his closet with. He had needed a stylist to educate him how to dress appropriately because he was used to dressing informally.

The party was taking place in the mansion, and Liam was nervous because he didn't know if his father, who was unknown to the public eye, would be able to bring in the necessary quantity of people with the right prestige to make his entrance into a luxurious life as eventful as Sam promised.

He remembered Sam's suggestion to not worry about anything that might happen at the party, and he smoothed his tie before leaving the room.

After being pent up in the room, what greeted him downstairs was not what he expected, and by the look of it, he was convinced it was adequate for the purpose of the party, if not a little bit more.

"You came at the right time, familiarize yourself with those at the party before your father makes the announcement," Sam remarked, approaching him with a low bow.

Liam looked around, pleased by the turnout. He spotted a few familiar faces he had seen on TV in the past, but the rest were people he had met earlier in the day and those he had read about while Sam prepared him for the ceremony.

Some of the men he had met earlier approached him first and spoke to him with such respect that the other men in the room realized he did not come from a basic background and hence required such respect from the men they knew.

A few other visitors approached him, mostly out of curiosity, and Liam engaged in easy chats with them without exposing his identity to them until his father did.

They must have concluded that he was not all that important after all, because the number of people who came to speak to him decreased, and a few girls began approaching him, most likely owing to his appearance.

As a gentleman, he spoke to them without crossing the line because he had no desire to be with any of them and none of them appeared appealing enough for him to consider being interested.

"I have a feeling you're the reason this party is being held," an all too familiar voice from Liam's side said.

Liam raised his head, his gaze shifting from the glass of champagne he was holding to the blue eyes of the man who shoved him into the sea to his death.

He was not calm, which was contrary to what he had expected after years of training. His heart pounded as a tremendous desire for vengeance overtook him with the urge to turn the champagne glass into a weapon and slay the man.