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Chapter 8: The Inheritance

"Is this the warehouse?" Mr. Adam asked as they approached the dilapidated building.

Joe looked out the window; then he let out a low sigh.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Joe said.

Joe’s hand reached for the door handle, ready to jump out and run in to help his friend. But Mr. Adam’s voice stopped him.

“Don’t get out,” Mr. Adam said. He sounded so firm.

Joe looked at him with confusion and desperation flooding his face. “But... I have to help him. I have to—”

“No,” Mr. Adam cut him off. “You’ll stay in the car. I’ll handle this.”

Joe’s heart sank.

He didn’t want to stay in the car. He didn’t want to sit by while someone else saved Jerry. He felt helpless, the weight of everything pressing down on him.

He leaned forward.

“Please, let me come with you,” Joe begged. “He’s my best friend. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Mr. Adam glanced at Joe. “You’ve done enough, Joe. Trust me. I’ll get him. You’ll just slow things down if you come inside.”

Joe swallowed hard, fighting the urge to argue.

He wanted to fight and do something, but something about Mr. Adam made Joe hesitate.

Finally, Joe relented, sinking back into his seat with a heavy sigh.

“Okay,” Joe said quietly, “but please... don’t let anything happen to him.”

‘ That’s if something terrible hadn’t already happened!’ A voice settled into his head, and he pushed it away quickly.

Without another word, Mr. Adam stepped out of the car, leaving Joe sitting alone in the passenger seat, his heart hammering in his chest.

He watched as Mr. Adam walked toward the warehouse, his figure blending into the shadows.

The minutes stretched on, each feeling like an eternity as Joe waited.

His mind raced with worst-case scenarios—what if something went wrong? What if Mr. Adam couldn’t get Jerry out? What if the men inside—

Before Joe could spiral any further, the warehouse door creaked open, and there, walking toward the car, was Mr. Adam. And with him—Jerry.

Joe’s breath caught in his throat, and relief flooded through him

. Jerry looked battered, his clothes torn, and his face bruised, but he was alive. He was walking. That was all that mattered.

Joe jumped out of the car, rushing toward his friend. “Jerry! Oh my God, are you okay?”

Jerry gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, man. I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

Joe turned to Mr. Adam. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Mr. Adam waved off the thanks with a simple nod. “No need. Let’s just get your friend to safety.”

Mr. Adam helped Jerry into a cab that had pulled up beside the car, instructing the driver to take him to the hospital.

“Take care of yourself,” Joe said with his eyes on his friend. “And stay out of trouble.”

Jerry shot him a weary look. “I will.”

“Where are you heading to, by the way?” Jerry added.

Joe was about to speak but Mr. Adam shot him a look.

“I have something important to do.” He managed to say, and Jerry didn’t ask any more questions.

Joe watched as the cab pulled away, the weight on his shoulders finally beginning to lift. His best friend was safe, and finally, Joe felt like he could breathe.

When Joe returned to the car, Mr. Adam was already waiting behind the wheel.

Joe slid into the passenger seat, and as they pulled away from the warehouse, a new question settled into his mind.

He glanced at Mr. Adam.

“You said you’d answer my questions about the inheritance,” Joe began. “I need to know what’s going on. Why me? Why all of this?”

Mr. Adam didn’t look at him. His gaze was fixed on the road. “You’ll get your answers soon enough, Joe. But not now. There are... things you need to see first.”

Joe frowned. “But why all the secrecy? You bailed me out and saved my friend, and now we’re driving to God knows where. I deserve to know what’s happening.”

Mr. Adam’s expression remained as it was. “Patience, Joe. All will be revealed in time.”

Joe wasn’t satisfied with that answer but knew better than to push.

He stared out the window, trying to distract his mind with whatever he could see.

After what felt like an hour, the car began to slow, pulling into a long, winding driveway.

Joe’s eyes widened as he looked up at the building before them. It was a tall structure with high glass windows.

Joe’s jaw dropped. “Wait… this is the Marston Building. This place is owned by the Whitmore family. They’re one of the most powerful families in the city. What the hell are we doing here?”

Mr. Adam didn’t answer. He guided the car smoothly up to the front entrance, where a man in a tailored suit awaited.

As the car came to a stop, the man approached, nodding respectfully at Mr. Adam.

“Mr. Adam,” the man greeted. “Mr. Atlas is waiting for you in his chambers.”

Mr. Atlas. The name sent a chill down Joe’s spine, though he didn’t know why.

He had heard rumors about the Whitmore family’s patriarch, but he had never thought he would be anywhere near someone like them.

Joe’s then turned to Mr. Adam. “What... what’s going on? Why are we here?”

Mr. Adam glanced at him. “Follow me, Joe. It’s time for you to meet Mr. Atlas.”

Joe’s legs felt weak as he stepped out of the car, following Mr. Adam into the building.

His mind raced with questions.

Who was Mr. Atlas, and why did he want to meet Joe? And what did this have to do with the inheritance?

The lobby of the building was grand, but Joe barely noticed.

He was lost in his own thoughts. As they walked through the halls, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls, Joe finally regained himself.

When they reached a set of large, double doors, Mr. Adam paused, turning to Joe with a firm gaze.

“This is where you’ll get your answers,” Mr. Adam said quietly.

With that, he pushed the doors open, and Joe entered the room.

His eyes fell on an elderly man with broad shoulders who seemed unaware of his presence at first.

“Mr. Atlas!” Mr Adam said, and the man raised his head. He yawned, dropping the magazine on his hand.

“It’s about time.” Mr Atlas said. “What took you so long?”

“There was a bit of a holdup!” Mr Adam said.

Mr. Atlas was quiet, studying Joe carefully. Then he let out a low grunt before stepping backward.

“Walk with me!” He said boldly. When Joe didn’t move, he let out a scream.

“I said walk with me!”

Joe peered at Mr.Adam who signaled for him to take a step forward.

With a low sigh, Joe did as he was told.

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