2025-01-12 18:50:38The morning sunlight filled the halls of Havenwood as Matilda rushed through the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Commander!" she called out, her voice breaking with emotion at the sight of Jack standing by the window.
"You're really alive!"
Jack turned, his posture straight and confident – a stark contrast to the broken man he'd been a year ago.
"As you can see, Matilda, I've recovered in more ways than one."
"Commander, I..." Matilda composed herself, though tears threatened to fall.
"When we received word of your return, I came immediately."
"After all this time, you still maintain your loyalty," Jack observed, studying her carefully.
"Always, Commander." Matilda's voice carried absolute conviction despite her emotional state.
"No matter my position now, nothing has changed."
Jack's expression darkened as he moved to his desk.
"Then you know about Kyle. About what happened when I was... not myself."
"Yes, Commander." Matilda's voice softened.
"The incident with Alex Carter. We all wished we could have done more, but you were in no condition to—"
"I was broken," Jack cut in, his voice sharp with self-recrimination.
"Mentally unstable, they said. Unable to even defend Kyle's memory properly. Do you know what Charles Carter called me during the settlement meeting?"
Matilda shook her head silently.
"A 'disturbed veteran' who should be grateful for their generosity. Ten thousand dollars," Jack's laugh was hollow.
"That's what they offered while I could barely string two thoughts together. They took advantage of my weakness, Matilda."
"You were ill, Commander. No one blames you for—"
"I blame myself!" Jack's fist hit the desk.
"But now I'm thinking clearly again. Very clearly."
"What are your orders, Commander?"
"I hear Charles Carter is celebrating his birthday tonight." Jack pulled out an envelope.
"I need you to prepare a special gift. A coffin, Matilda. Mahogany, with his name engraved on it."
Matilda's eyes widened slightly.
"It will be done immediately, Commander. Will you need it delivered?"
"No." Jack's voice carried steel.
"I'll deliver it personally. Let them see me now – clear-headed and strong. Let them remember the man they mocked and dismissed when he was unable to fight back."
"Commander," Matilda hesitated.
"Army headquarters has been asking about your return."
"They can wait. I have a debt to settle first." He picked up a photo of Kyle.
"This time, I'm in full possession of my faculties. This time, they'll learn what it means to face a commander who can fight back."
"The coffin will be ready in a few hours, Commander," Matilda said.
"I'll oversee every detail myself."
"Good." Jack turned back to the window. "It's time the Carters learned that recovery can be a dangerous thing. Especially when it comes with perfect clarity about past wrongs."
Matilda moved toward the door, then paused.
"Commander... it's good to see you strong again."
"Thank you, Matilda." Jack's voice softened slightly.
"It's good to finally be myself again."
The Carter estate was a dazzling display of wealth and power.
Extravagant chandeliers illuminated the grand ballroom, where the elite of Havenwood mingled, raising glasses of champagne to toast Charles Carter’s 50th birthday.
Laughter filled the air, the celebration a testament to the Carter family’s influence.
At the head of the room, Charles, dressed in a tailored black suit, stood beside his sons, Ethan and Alex.
Ethan, the elder, exuded calm confidence, while Alex, with his smug grin and loose posture, reveled in the spotlight.
The grand entrance swung open with a slow, deliberate creak. Silence fell as the crowd turned to see an uninvited guest.
Jack Sullivan, dragging a coffin with one hand and walking with a steady, intimidating gait, entered the room.
Beside him was Matilda, her presence radiating quiet authority.
"Who’s that?" someone whispered.
"Isn’t that the mentally impaired man from the Johnson family?" another murmured.
"No," came a hushed reply. "He seems... different."
Jack, now in a black coat that added to his commanding aura, stopped near the grand table where the birthday cake towered.
Without a word, he heaved the coffin upright and placed it with a resounding thud beside the cake.
Inscribed on its surface in bold letters was the name "Charles Carter."
The room froze.
"What the hell is this?" Charles Carter demanded, stepping forward, his face flushed with anger.
"Who dares to interrupt my party with this nonsense?"
Jack finally looked up, his gaze sharp and cold.
"Happy birthday, Charles Carter," he said, his tone calm yet laden with menace.
"I brought you a gift. A reminder of justice long overdue."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Alex Carter broke the tension with a mocking laugh, stepping forward.
"Well, well, if it isn’t the village idiot," Alex sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Shouldn’t you be scrubbing floors somewhere, Sullivan? Or have you finally learned to act like a real man?"
Jack didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Alex with unsettling intensity.
"Let me guess," Alex continued, emboldened by the silence.
"You’re here because you still can’t get over that pathetic servant of yours—what was his name? Kyle? Poor guy. Jumped in front of my car like a damn fool. His fault, not mine."
Matilda clenched her fists, but Jack raised a hand to stop her.
He remained seated, calm, as Alex went on.
"Do you know how much I paid for that little incident?" Alex taunted.
"Ten grand. That’s all his life was worth. Ten thousand dollars for a dead dog and a clean record. My lawyer took care of it in minutes."
He smirked, adding, "I’ll tell you what, Sullivan—clean my shoes right now, and I’ll make it twenty grand. Double compensation for your dead mutt."
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CHAPTER 4- "Justice for Kyle"
The atmosphere in the Carter estate turned colder as Jack Sullivan stepped forward, his presence unnerving even the most confident of the Carter family’s allies. Surrounded by the guards, and still a smirk on his lips.In his hand was a tablet, the screen illuminated with damning evidence. The guests, drawn by the tension, leaned in to catch every word."You think your money can cover up everything, Alex?" Jack said, his tone steady and menacing. "Think again."Alex smirked, folding his arms. "And what’s this? Some fancy tech trick to scare me? Please, Sullivan. You’re a broken man trying to play hero."Jack tapped the screen, and a video began to play. It showed Alex’s Maserati, speeding recklessly through Havenwood’s streets, the timestamp clearly marking the day Kyle was killed. Another clip followed—security footage of Alex laughing in a bar just hours after the accident, bragging about how "some idiot jumped in front of his car."The guests gasped, their murmurs growing lou
