chapter 10

 

Mark paced back and forth in his small, dimly lit apartment, the phone pressed tightly against his ear. His heart pounded with anticipation and anxiety as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. The voice was distorted, disguised to keep its identity hidden, but Mark didn’t care. He had made his decision—there was no turning back now.

“You’ve done well, Mark,” the voice said, calm and authoritative. “The police are acting on the information you provided. Victor will have a hard time explaining this one away.”

Mark clenched his jaw, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the phone. “This is only the beginning. I want to see Victor Montgomery pay for what he did to Jacob. He took everything from me.”

“And you will have your revenge,” the voice assured him. “But remember, Mark, this isn’t just about Victor. There are bigger forces at play, and if you play your cards right, you could come out of this with more than just revenge.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

The voice chuckled softly. “The Montgomery family isn’t the only one with blood on their hands. There are others—rivals—who would be very interested in seeing Victor taken down. Allies who could help you, if you’re willing to cooperate.”

Mark’s mind raced. He had never been interested in the power struggles of the city’s elite, but the promise of allies, of resources to bring Victor down, was tempting.

“What do you want from me?” Mark asked, his tone more cautious now.

“Keep feeding the police information,” the voice instructed. “And when the time comes, we’ll give you the opportunity to strike. You’ll get your revenge, and we’ll get what we need.”

The line went dead, leaving Mark standing in the silence of his apartment, his thoughts swirling. He had taken the first step, but he knew there was no turning back. The stakes were higher than he had imagined, but the thought of Victor suffering, of losing everything he had built, was enough to steel his resolve.

Victor Montgomery sat in his opulent office, the walls lined with dark wood and expensive artwork. The air was thick with the scent of cigars, but Victor wasn’t in the mood to enjoy one. His eyes were fixed on the newspaper spread out on his desk, the headline screaming at him: Mysterious Death Rocks the Montgomery Family—Authorities Suspect Foul Play.

His hands clenched into fists as he read the article, every word stoking the fire of his anger. The police were now investigating Jacob’s death, and Victor knew it was only a matter of time before they started asking questions—questions he didn’t want to answer.

“Damn it, Mark,” Victor muttered under his breath, suspicion gnawing at him. Ever since Jacob’s death, Mark had been different, colder, more distant. And now, with the police sniffing around, Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that his old friend was involved somehow.

He reached for his phone, ready to confront Mark, when the door to his office swung open. His right-hand man, Raul, stepped inside, his expression grim.

“You need to see this, boss,” Raul said, holding out a tablet.

Victor took the device, his eyes narrowing as he saw the breaking news headline: Heir to the Blackwell Fortune Found—Anderson Blackwell Returns to Reclaim His Legacy.

Victor’s blood ran cold. “Anderson Blackwell… How the hell is he still alive?”

Raul shifted uncomfortably. “We’re still trying to figure that out, boss. But it’s him, no doubt about it. He’s already at the Blackwell estate, and word is spreading fast.”

Victor’s mind raced. The Blackwells had always been a thorn in his side, but he had thought they were finished when Moses Blackwell (former head of the Blackwell's) died . Now, Anderson, his long lost son had returned, and the balance of power was shifting once again.

“This complicates things,” Victor muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “If Anderson is back, he’ll want to pick up where his father left off. And that means trouble for us.”

Raul nodded, his face serious. “What do you want to do, boss?”

Victor’s eyes darkened as he leaned back in his chair, his mind working through the implications. “We need to move quickly. I want eyes on Anderson, and I want to know who’s behind this. He didn’t just show up out of nowhere—someone’s pulling the strings.”

“And Mark?” Raul asked cautiously.

Victor’s gaze hardened. “I’ll deal with Mark. If he’s betrayed me, he’ll regret it.”

Raul gave a sharp nod and left the room, leaving Victor alone with his thoughts. The return of Anderson Blackwell was a problem, but one that could be managed. As for Mark… Victor’s hand itched to wrap around the traitor’s throat.

Victor picked up his phone, dialing Mark’s number. It rang once, twice, before going to voicemail. Victor’s jaw tightened as he left a terse message: “We need to talk. Now.”

As he hung up, Victor felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The Montgomery family had always been survivors, and Victor wasn’t about to let anyone—Mark, the police, or Anderson Blackwell—take that away from him.

Across town, Anderson sat in the grand dining room of the Blackwell estate, the letter from his father still fresh in his mind. The butler stood nearby, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Master Anderson, there’s something you should know,” the butler said, his tone carefully measured. “It appears that the Montgomerys are already aware of your return.”

Anderson’s heart skipped a beat. “Victor Montgomery?”

“Yes,” the butler confirmed. “He’s not one to take challenges lightly. Your reappearance has upset the balance of power in the city. The Montgomery’s will be watching you closely.”

Anderson nodded slowly, his mind already working through the implications. The Montgomery’s were dangerous, but so was he now that he—Jacob has cheated death. His father’s letter had warned him to trust no one, and he intended to follow that advice.

“Let them watch,” Anderson said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m not afraid of Victor Montgomery. If he wants a fight, he’ll get one.”

The butler inclined his head. “Very well, Master Anderson. But please, be cautious. The Montgomery’s play a dangerous game, and they don’t hesitate to eliminate those who stand in their way.”

Anderson’s gaze hardened. “Neither do I.”

  Back at Victor's office, where he sat  alone, the room shrouded in shadows. His cigar burned low, forgotten, as he stared at the photograph on his desk. It was a picture, taken at Jacob’s funeral, of a young man standing by the graveside at Jacob’s burial.

 Victor’s eyes narrowed as he studied the image, his brows furrowing in confusion as the pieces of his puzzled mind started to come together.

“Why was Anderson Blackwell present at Jacob’s burial?”.