Chapter 3: The Masked Reckoning

Harry stood outside the abandoned warehouse, his breath visible in the cold night air. The mask he wore felt strange against his skin, but it was necessary. Tonight wasn’t about showing who he was—it was about delivering a message. He glanced at the group of bodyguards Richard had sent, their presence reassuring but not needed for what he had in mind.

"Stay out of this unless I give the word," he instructed them sternly.

“Understood, Mr. Winstone,” the lead bodyguard replied, his face expressionless behind his sunglasses, even in the dark.

With a nod, Harry pushed open the creaky warehouse door and stepped inside. The dim light from a few scattered bulbs cast eerie shadows, adding to the tension of the moment. In the center of the space stood Adam Morland, flanked by three burly men in Cloud Logistics uniforms. Adam’s arrogance was palpable, his posture relaxed as if he were completely in control.

“Ah, the mysterious man of the hour,” Adam sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whoever you are, you’ve made a big mistake coming here.”

Harry ignored the jibe, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. Adam was clearly trying to project confidence, but there was a twitchiness to his movements, a subtle hint of nerves that betrayed him.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Harry said, his voice steady and cold. “You’ve been using your position and power to hurt people. That ends tonight.”

Adam scoffed, glancing at his men with a smirk. “Hurt people? Is this some kind of joke? You show up here in a mask, thinking you’re some kind of hero?”

Harry stepped closer, his presence looming despite his average build. “I know what you’ve been doing, Adam. I know about the affairs, the blackmail, the threats. I know about the women you’ve ruined and the families you’ve destroyed.”

The smirk on Adam’s face faltered. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Harry reached into his coat and pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages briefly before he spoke. “Claire Hastings. You slept with her and then threatened to destroy her husband’s career if she didn’t keep quiet.”

Adam’s face turned pale, but he quickly forced a grin. “You’re bluffing.”

Harry continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “Lisa Montgomery. You forced her to sign over her shares in her family business after she found out about your affair with her sister.”

“How—how do you know that?” Adam stammered, his bravado slipping. His eyes darted around, looking for some way out of this.

Harry stepped closer, his tone menacing. “I know everything, Adam. I know about the money laundering through Cloud Logistics. I know about the drugs you smuggled through your father’s shipping routes. And I know about your attempts to bribe the police to keep them off your back.”

Adam’s face was now a sickly shade of white, his arrogance replaced by naked fear. “You... you can’t prove any of that,” he said, but his voice was trembling.

Harry leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I don’t need to prove it. I just need you to know that I know. Because tonight, we’re going to play a game. Two games, actually.”

Adam took a step back, bumping into one of his men. “What kind of game?”

Harry straightened up, his gaze unwavering. “The first game is simple: a Q&A. I ask, you answer. Truthfully. For every lie, there’s a consequence.”

“What—what kind of consequence?” Adam asked, his eyes flicking to the masked bodyguards standing by the door.

Harry didn’t answer directly. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. “Let’s start with an easy one. Why did you think you could threaten me and get away with it?”

Adam swallowed hard. “I—I don’t even know who you are.”

“Wrong answer,” Harry said calmly. He turned his head slightly, and one of the bodyguards stepped forward, delivering a swift punch to Adam’s stomach. Adam doubled over, gasping for breath.

“That was just a warning,” Harry said, his voice almost gentle. “Now, try again. Why did you threaten me?”

Adam coughed, struggling to stand upright. “I—I thought you were nobody. Just some poor loser.”

Harry’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Good. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Please,” Adam begged, his voice breaking. “What do you want? Money? I can give you money.”

“I don’t want your money,” Harry snapped. “I want you to understand that you can’t keep hurting people. That there are consequences for your actions.”

Adam nodded frantically. “Okay, okay. I get it. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

Harry tilted his head again, studying Adam’s desperate face. “Second game. Dice-rolling. Each roll determines a different punishment for every lie you’ve told.”

Adam’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no! Please! I’ll do anything.”

“You should have thought of that before,” Harry said, his voice icy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of dice. “Roll.”

Adam’s hand shook as he reached out, taking the dice with trembling fingers. He glanced up at Harry, then down at the dice in his palm, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Roll,” Harry repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Adam dropped the dice on the ground, his eyes squeezed shut as if expecting a blow. The dice clattered against the concrete floor, coming to a stop. A five and a two.

“Seven,” Harry said quietly. “Lucky number, isn’t it?”

Adam’s eyes darted to Harry’s, hope flickering in them. “Does that mean I’m safe?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “It means you get to decide. Apologise to the people you’ve hurt, make amends, or face the consequences.”

“I—I’ll do it,” Adam stammered. “I’ll apologise. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Harry leaned in close, his voice a mere whisper. “And if you don’t, if you so much as step out of line, I will destroy everything you hold dear. Your family, your business, your reputation. Do you understand me?”

Adam nodded frantically, his entire body shaking. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Harry straightened up, slipping the dice back into his pocket. “Good. Now, get out of my sight.”

Adam didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and fled, his men following close behind. Harry watched them go, his chest heaving with the adrenaline of the moment.

As the door slammed shut behind them, one of the bodyguards stepped forward. “Are you okay, Mr. Winstone?”

Harry nodded, his gaze still on the closed door. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

As they left the warehouse, Harry felt a strange sense of relief. He had stood up to Adam, not just for himself, but for all the people Adam had hurt. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. And as he climbed into the car, the mask still in his hand, he knew this was just the beginning.

Tonight, he had taken the first step towards becoming the man he was meant to be. And nothing—not Adam Morland, not Amelia, not anyone—would stand in his way again.