2025-01-21 16:33:41“What? You want a divorce?” Sylvester stared wordlessly at Emily.
The desperation and frustration on her face weighed down heavily on him. The pain in his legs could not compare to that in his heart as he watched her breakdown. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Emily.” He sighed. Wasn’t a divorce simply going too far? He was almost close to his goal.
This was the most he could do in his state. “Knowing too much right now is not good. I promise to explain everything to you when I’m done. Trust me.” He moved his wheelchair closer to her.
“Don’t come closer, Sylvester.” Emily felt a rollercoaster of emotions wash over her. He sounded genuine, like he really cared. Yet, his secretive ways told her another story. A million theories flew around her mind as to his reason, but there was no good conclusion.
“I want to know, Sylvester!” She cried out, her hands grabbing a fistful of her hair. “Are you in trouble? After all, ever since we’ve gotten married, I’ve been ridiculed. What more are you hiding that would ridicule me more? You’re making it worse with your sneaky behavior. Do you even know the rumors flying about?”
A frown graced his brows. “Emily, don’t listen to the rumors. You and I know it’s not true. You know people will always talk,” he tried to persuade her, but she shot him a glare. Confused, he questioned, “What rumors are those anyway?”
“Yes, of course they will talk. They might as well be right!” She lashed out, tears streaming down her face. “How can I be sure that you’re not spending my hard-earned money on some mistress out there, huh? Rumors travel fast, you know!”
“Are you playing me for a fool? Because that’s exactly how I feel right now!” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she asked.
Sylvester was ruffled by her words. He was pained deeply, to say the least. How could she think so low of him? He wondered, hurt, sinking his morale.
“I might be disabled right now, Emily,” but I’m not an unfaithful man. Loyalty is my core value,” he started, wheeling himself even closer to her.
She stared up at him with a tear-stained face, her hand clutching something on her chest.
"Emily, you're my wife. We might not have gotten married under the perfect circumstances, but I am committed to you," he urged her, his voice laced with concern and care.
Her eyes burned into his eyes, conflicting emotions swirling in them.
"Listen, Emily, I will repay you all the money. I would tell you what I am doing if I can, but right now, I can't. I won't cheat on you. I care about you—"
"Just stop it!" She snapped angrily. Her chest rose and fell, as she glared at him. Her fingers clenched tighter on the object on her chest, which seemed to fuel her anger even more.
"Listen, a man who I have to provide for is not worthy of being a husband, talk less of being my husband," her voice was firm with a slight falter. "I need a man capable enough to take care of me too. I deserve a hero, too!"
Her words struck his heart like spiked whips.
"Look at this," she spoke, finally revealing what was clutched in her hands.
It was a beautiful pendant with intricate details in its edges hanging on a thin chain. It gave off a simple yet elegant appearance. "Do you know where I got this?" Emily uttered, swinging the chain.
Sylvester didn't have much time to think about it, though.
"I got it from a brave man, a hero, who rescued me from being killed in a terrible battle!" Her sharp, cold voice sent him crashing back to the present.
"I want a man like that, Sylvester. That's the kind of man I want, Sylvester and this is why I can’t love you. You are not him and you can never be!” Emily’s words crashed against Sylvester’s ears and he seemed to be thrust back to that time at the war front.
That pendant hanging on her neck was a key that unlocked the memory that remained locked in his memory.
It was the crux of the war against the first band at the borders, he had driven his sword down the chest of an assailant and he caught sight of a lady crouched in a corner of the field.
She was scarcely covered by the elephant grasses behind which she hid.
"Cover me!" He yelled at his soldiers, moving stealthily towards her. The pendant, a family heirloom, swung on his neck as he advanced towards her.
Suddenly, an enemy appeared in front of him, "Run!" He had yelled at the scared lady as he lunged at the approaching opponent. He saw as she scurried to her feet, feeling a relief before facing the enemy.
"Thank you," her voice faintly floated into his ears.
The battle had ended in victory, but to his dismay, the pendant on his neck had mysteriously disappeared.
He rushed back to the border to find the pendant, but there was no sign of it anywhere. Its disappearance zapped him of energy, which gave the second band of opposing soldiers an advantage over him. It was a family heirloom, and its sentimental value was worth over twenty generations. He was disappointed in himself to have lost it in the war—or so he thought. Now, as he stared at the pendant that swung like a pendulum from the chain in the hands of the damsel that had been rescued by him, he felt a surge of energy within him.
She was the one.
How had he not seen the pendant on her for the three years of their marriage? He wondered.
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Chapter 60
Sylvester stood over the collection of weapons laid out before him. Rows of well-engineered firearms, finely crafted swords, spears, and daggers gleamed under the dim lantern light. Beside them, crates of small crystal-infused devices capable of boosting one’s strength and reflexes.They all sat ready for distribution. He nodded in satisfaction. This would do.“Geral,” he called.Geral stepped forward, arms crossed. “Master. You called?”“You’re in charge of these,” Sylvester said, gesturing toward the arsenal. “Make sure every recruit gets what they need.”Geral’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t think this is too much? I mean…these are new recruits. Do they really need this much fire power?”Katherine was passing by, taking some things to and from the store. On hearing the conversation, she frowned. “That’s too little if anything. No grenades? No thowables?” her voice got louder as she got further. “Molotov cocktails? Although, I could prep that on the go…”Sylvester smirked. “I trust you
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Cullen’s eyes were bloodshot when he saw Sylvester finally charge him.This was the moment he had been waiting for all this while, and Sylvester was finally giving it to him.The privilege to kill the bastard.However, when he struck with all his might, his fists met resistance. Resistance followed by a few quick jabs to his ribs. Nothing particularly disorienting, but it still mocked him."You’re sloppy," Sylvester said, shaking his head. "You’re not built for this, Cullen. Strength without control is just wasted energy."Cullen snarled. "Shut up!" He launched forward again, his strikes coming faster, more relentless. He swung, kicked, twisted his body for unexpected angles, but every single attack met the same result.Sylvester dodged each of his attacks like they were coming to him at a snail’s pace.Then, just as Cullen pulled back to strike again, Sylvester stepped in and delivered a sharp kick to the side of his knee, sending him stumbling. Again, these attacks didn’t do what
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“So, this…Nine, you call him?” Sylvester asked Otto. He, so far, had tried to be as casual with the boy as possible. He didn’t want to do anything to force his back into a shell, knowing everything he had been through. “Yeah?” Otto picked at the breakfast that was given to him. It was the next day, and the people that had taken him looked like they were going to care enough for him, so he was at peace. “You think you can remember exactly what he looked like?” Sylvester prodded lightly. “Oh, yeah. Beat me for a while. Of course, I remember,” Otto chuckled, his eyes darting back and forth trying to shake a reminiscence too vivid. This was what Sylvester was avoiding. A recall that would send him back into his shell, but it was necessary. How was he going to remember the face of the man, if he didn’t relive his traumatic past? Otto was going to have to be strong here. Otto chewed slowly, eyes flickering with a distant memory. “Tall. Muscular. Scar on his left cheek. Wore a lot o
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Sylvester leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, as he studied the young boy standing in front of him. Otto looked as wary as ever, even though they had just given him a nice meal and a set of new clothes that were more comfortable than the tattered pair that he was wearing before.One of the telltale signs of human trafficking is that the effects stick with you forever.Not for a long time…not for a very long time. Forever. And so Sylvester knew deep down, that Otto would never feel as great a sense of peace as the normal person ever again.And the fact that such a young boy had to experience horrors like these made his blood boil. It made him more determined to find these evil criminals and make them pay.Katherine, standing beside Sylvester, watched Otto with careful eyes. “So, these traffickers,” she started, “how many are they?”“Those aren’t productive questions,” Geral face-palms.“Well, we have got to start somewhere,” Katherine shrugged and looked back to the boy
Chapter 55
Cullen paced the darkened alley, his fingers twitching with impatience. The stranger had told him to come alone.That alone should have deterred him. He could be robbed here. Stabbed and killed. No one would ever find his body.Yet, here he was. Bravery fueled by the craving for power and revenge.Was this even healthy? He wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain. He was going to get his revenge. If this fell through the roof, he would look for an alternative.He had done underground deals before.But nothing like this.He had handed envelopes under tables, sent hush money, even done deals where he had to bury transactions and randomize his mail. But what he was seeing? This felt…strange. Truly, he was face to face with the black market.At first, it seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. Just a dark shady alley way.But the eyes of the people passing by…when they met his, had a certain knowing that he knew was not of the world he was used to.A shadow moved at the far end of the al
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Sylvester stared at the dot on his screen, blinking against the coordinates and lines.It was the tracker he had put on the boy, and the boy had already started moving, having finished his end of day sales, perhaps.Now, Sly just needed to find where he lived, so that he could begin paying the boy regular, more constructed visits, not like the cold standoffish conversation they had in the alleyway. He needed to make the boy see that he could fight for a better life, not just for himself, but for whatever was keeping him on the streets.The dot stopped moving.Not completely, just…around a particular point."An abandoned construction site?" he muttered to himself, narrowing his eyes.This couldn’t be the boy’s final destination. It was either he was remitting money to his suppliers, or taking stock for the next day’s sales. Or he was being jumped.There was the excuse that this could have been his home, since he did look like a runaway, but most runaways would have taken shelter in mor
Chapter 53
Sylvester moved through the streets of the city with intent. It had been a while since he was in through these parts – the market. The wealthier suburbs did a great job at shielding them from the disparity between the rich and the poor. Here, the poor reigned supreme, and Sylvester wasn’t sure he liked that. He was a super-wealthy man himself – perhaps one of the richest in his country, and he would have given all his wealth away if it would have helped. But he knew the truth. It just wouldn’t. He was here on a mission, though, the harsh runes of poverty aside. He was looking for people to join his army. People with a strong sense of justice. Greed had blinded the rich, and want had blinded the poor. There wasn’t exactly a middle ground to these things, but Sly was determined. He knew there were still people out there that shared his sense of justice. He wasn’t looking for just anyone. He needed people with fire, with hunger, with something to prove. That’s why the boy caug
Chapter 52
Cullen slumped over the bar counter, his fingers gripping the sweating glass of whiskey like it was his last tether to reality. And indeed, it was.The dark circles around his bloodshot eyes were only further emphasized by the dim light of the bar that cast at his face from a menacing angle. His tie was loosened, his blazer crumpled in a heap beside him, and the bitter stench of alcohol clung to his clothes. The bartender was used to these kinds of people, so he just gave Cullen space instead of trying to make the usual small talk that he usually did for customers who lingered too long."Emily... Sylvester..." Cullen slurred, his voice barely rising over the soft hum of jazz playing from the speakers. He let out a hollow laugh before taking another swig. "They think they’ve won. Think they can just...just ruin me. Take everything. I built my name from the ground up. As a man! Emily got to that top by whoring herself. And Sylvester? I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all..."A chuckle c
