The Ascent of Jeffery Flamel; Restoring Alchemy's Legacy

CHAPTER 3

"Mother-in-law?" Jeffrey's body tensed as he stood face to face with Cora's mother, Grace Miller.

Grace glanced into the apartment and instantly understood what was going on. She looked back at Jeffrey, and her once warm eyes turned cold.

"So, it’s true," Grace said, crossing her arms. "You found out."

"Did you know?"

Grace didn’t flinch. "Of course, I did. And frankly, I’m relieved. It’s time this charade ended."

"Charade?" His voice was hoarse with disbelief. "Five years of marriage was a charade to you?"

"Spare me. What have you ever truly given my daughter besides humiliation? You’re nothing but a stain on this family’s reputation."

Grace's cold laugh echoed through the hallway. "Reputation is everything, Jeffrey. You’ve dragged this family through enough disgrace with that clinic scandal. Do you think any of us wanted to be associated with that? With you?"

Her words were like a pickax slamming into Jeffrey's already broken heart. He couldn't believe that his sweet mother-in-law was capable of such cruelty.

"What about your husband? What does he think about all this?" Jeffrey asked, his voice trembling.

"Roger? He’ll agree with whatever I decide. And I’ve decided it’s time for you to leave. The Miller family has an opportunity to align with Whitmore Industries, thanks to Aadam. You’ve always been dead weight, Jeffrey, and now you’re simply... expendable."

Without another word, she ignored Jeffrey and walked into the house like a proud peacock.

Jeffrey stood by the door, completely broken. He had somehow hoped that Grace would be able to save his marriage, but now, it was clear that this was truly the end.

---

Late at night, in the underbelly of the city, Jeffrey staggered through the empty streets with an empty whiskey bottle in hand.

He had gone to a local bar and drunk himself into a stupor, desperate to numb the pain and forget his sorrows, even if only for a little while.

But in doing so, he let his guard down, unaware of the dangers lurking nearby.

"He's over there, boss."

"He's drunk. Catching him will be easy."

"He's headed for the alley—let's corner him there."

---

"Fuck... Who are you?" Jeffrey blinked, trying to make out the figures in front of him. The uneasy sense of danger sobered him slightly.

With the help of a flickering streetlight, he saw four men. Whoever they were, they certainly weren’t here with good intentions.

"You don’t need to know who we are, but we know exactly who you are," the leader said, stepping forward as the other three surrounded Jeffrey, cutting off any escape.

Jeffrey tried to stay calm. He knelt on the ground and bowed his head, pressing his forehead to the dirt. "Please, I surrender. Take my money—all of it. It's yours."

None of them replied. One even chuckled at his words.

They weren’t robbers. Then what did they want? Revenge? Was someone paying them to kill him?

"Please, you don’t have to do this. I don’t know who paid you, but I’m not a threat," he begged, secretly grabbing a handful of dirt and stones from the ground.

"Heh. Smart for a drunk," the leader cackled. "Three hundred thousand dollars for your limbs. You’re a valuable catch!"

"What..." Jeffrey lifted his head in shock but was kicked hard by the leader’s boot, sending him sprawling.

"You’ve nothing to worry about," the leader said, chuckling. "Your life isn’t in danger. But I’m afraid you’ll have to live the rest of your days as a cripple."

"Reo, Max, Troy—get him. Don’t let him move. Let’s get this over with and get our money."

By now, all traces of alcohol had fled Jeffrey's system. He forced himself to stay still, waiting for the right moment to act.

Bang!

A loud noise echoed from a nearby trash can, startling the men. They spun around in unison.

"Who’s there?"

Now’s my chance.

Jeffrey sprang to his feet and threw the dirt and stones at their eyes. Without wasting a second, he bolted toward the end of the alley.

He passed the trash can and noticed a stray dog staring at him. "Thanks, little mutt. I owe you one," he muttered as he kept running.

"That bastard's getting away! After him!" the leader shouted, cursing as they gave chase.

But Jeffrey was already nearing the exit.

Seeing they wouldn’t catch him in time, the leader stopped and pulled out a gun, aiming at Jeffrey’s back.

"Help! Help!" Jeffrey screamed, running toward the street, where safety was within reach.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed.