The Grim Sovereign

Chapter 17

The president

Kael’s POV

Both Pellington and the supervisor froze, their gazes snapping between me and the elegant woman standing in the doorway.

“You… you know him?” Pellington asked, disbelief dripping from his voice.

The supervisor’s brow furrowed. “Madam, how exactly do you know Kael?”

I stepped forward, my tone flat but steady.

“I’m Kael. What do you want from me?”

Her lips curved slowly, “So it’s really you,” she murmured. “The one I’ve been looking for all this time.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why?”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze unreadable.

“Let’s talk outside.”

As I moved past Pellington, he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.

“Kael… please, mention me to her. A good word—anything.”

I brushed his hand off without a word and followed the woman out.

Outside, a sleek obsidian car waited—its polished surface catching the sunlight like black glass. The driver stepped forward, opening the rear door with practiced precision.

She slid in first. I followed.

The moment the door closed, the air shifted—cool, quiet, insulated from the world outside. The seats were soft leather, the faint scent of jasmine lingering in the air.

I turned to her.

“So… why exactly were you looking for me?”

Her answer was calm, deliberate.

“Someone wants to speak to you.”

She picked up her phone, dialed, then handed it to me.

I took it without hesitation.

“Hello?”

A deep, commanding voice came through the line.

“Hello, Kael.”

My muscles tightened instantly. I knew that voice.

President Adrian Kestrel.

“Mr. President.”

“I’m sorry for contacting you like this,” he said.

“That’s not a problem,” I replied. “I’m just… surprised to hear from you.”

“I know I’ve wronged you, Kael,” he continued, his voice heavy. “In ways I can never undo. I don’t expect forgiveness. But right now… I need you.”

A cold silence stretched between us.

“Do you remember the Clean Seed operation?” he asked.

Of course, I did. The law that was passed years ago to identify children born with the psychopathy gene—before they could grow into something far worse.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I remember.”

“I believe there’s another one,” Kestrel said. “Aside from Malik Radwan. This one is already tearing through the country. Bodies are turning up every week.”

“I’m not a military officer anymore,” I told him, my voice low but firm. “I’m no longer a soldier.”

“I’m not asking your commander,” he said. “I’m asking as a man watching his country bleed. Meet me. Tonight. At The Aurelius Lounge.”

I exhaled slowly. “I’ll be there. Nine p.m.”

“Good.”

The line went dead.

I handed the phone back. She gave me a small, respectful nod.

“We’ll be waiting for you, Mr. Kael.”

I stepped out of the car, watching as it glided away in silence.

When I turned, I realized the yard had still gone—every pair of eyes fixed on me. I kept my face unreadable, though my pulse hadn’t quite settled.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a car, Darren’s car, pulling in.

Darren’s black sedan rolled into the company compound like it owned the place. I knew that car anywhere. It stopped just a few feet away from me, and before the driver could even circle around, Darren stepped out, suit jacket unbuttoned, his expression carrying that mix of curiosity and urgency he always wore when something was brewing.

He came straight to me.

“Kael, what’s going on here? Who was that guy that just left?”

I kept my tone casual. “Just someone I know.”

Darren’s brows drew together. “Mira just called me. She said she wants to promote you… into the deputy director position of the company.”

I stared at him. “What? Why would Mira want to promote me to something like that?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I don’t understand either,” I said flatly.

Darren exhaled, almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “Well, you’ll have to accept it. Kael, do you know how much the deputy director gets paid here? We’re talking sixty thousand dollars a month. That’s more than enough to—”

“I’ll reject it.”

His head snapped toward me. “Reject? Why?”

“I can’t take that position, Darren,” I said, my voice steady but final. “I was trained to be a soldier, not a corporate man. I know how to navigate warzones, not boardrooms. I understand discipline, field tactics, and surviving hostile environments—none of which apply to sitting behind a desk or attending meetings. I’m not built for this world, and if I tried to pretend I was, I’d be setting myself up for failure. I’d rather stay in my lane.”

He didn’t look convinced, but I turned away before he could push further.

Back inside, I was walking toward my section when I crossed paths with Mia, the girl from the night before. She smiled at me, gave a small wave.

I just nodded and kept moving.

After finishing up the last task, I sat back for a breather. My phone slipped into my hand almost on its own, and I found myself staring at an old photo—Aria holding Liam, taken just after she gave birth. Aria’s tired but radiant smile, Liam’s tiny fingers curled around her hand…

The image twisted something in me. My mind went back to last night—the doubt, the fear. Could Liam… really have inherited the same psychopathic gene? Or was it all just a coincidence my mind refused to believe?

A voice pulled me out of it.

“Is that your son?”

I turned. It was Mia again. She stood there, smiling.

“Yes,” I said simply.

“He’s handsome, just like his dad,” she said with a playful glint. “Or should I say… cute, just like his mom?”

I stood up, narrowing my eyes slightly. “Don’t you know who I am? Everyone in this city does. And most of them wouldn’t come anywhere near me. You’re the only one who actually talks to me like this.”

“That bothers you?” she asked, tilting her head.

I didn’t answer immediately.

She smiled faintly. “Do I have to be bothered by rumors? Even if they’re true, everyone has their own story. What matters to me is… that you helped me that night without a second thought. That’s all I need to know.”

I was about to respond when the sound of engines cut through the air—multiple cars pulling into the compound.

Security guards rushed forward, opening the doors. Men and women in suits stepped out of the first four cars, their movements crisp, deliberate. Then the final car door opened…

And out stepped the real owner of Delacroix, alongside Mira.

Darren’s father-in-law.

Beside me, the girl leaned closer.

“That’s him. The company is about to have a fire.”

I turned to her. “What do you mean by that?”

The last car rolled to a stop, and I watched as Mr. Lucien Delacroix stepped out. He moved with the kind of authority that made the ground feel smaller beneath him, flanked by both his daughters, his son, and even his grandchildren. Behind them, Mira followed, her posture precise, almost rehearsed.

Mia, standing beside me, whispered softly. “That’s Lucien Delacroix, Kael. His eldest daughter, Seraphine, is in charge of Delacroix Investments. His youngest, Celeste, manages their media branch. His son, Victor, oversees the logistics division. And these are his grandchildren—Adrian and Lila—they have roles in Delacroix Pharmaceuticals and Delacroix Real Estate respectively.”

I nodded slowly, taking in the lineage. Each person’s presence screamed power, wealth, and absolute control over their empire.

Mia continued, her voice low and precise. “Mira is in charge of Delacroix Security Agency. Pellington, the youngest of the family, is stuck with the cleaning department.”

I let that sink in. Even in the midst of such opulence, family hierarchy was ruthless. I nodded again, eyes sweeping across the compound, taking in the sprawling estates, the manicured lawns, the glimmering glass facades of the subsidiary buildings.

I had heard the stories. Lucien Delacroix, founder of this empire, one of the richest men in the city, and by all accounts, utterly heartless. Everything he did was for money. Human care, compassion, empathy—none of it existed in him. I hated men like that.

Mia’s voice brought me back. “I only pity Mira. The company is in trouble. If she can’t secure certification from the government and get the contract from Seraphina Voss’s company, the empire could be at risk.”

I frowned. “Why would Seraphina’s company try to snatch it from her?”

Mia’s eyes narrowed. “Seraphine’s husband—Julien Voss—he’s friends with her. They studied together in the States. If he steps in, Mira’s contract could easily be taken from her.”

I glanced at Mira, standing stiffly, her expression betraying more than a hint of worry.

Mia continued, almost regretfully. “She already has issues at home because of marrying Darren. If the company is taken from her, everything she’s fought for becomes impossible. She’s trapped, Kael… all because of that marriage.”

I absorbed it all, the threads of family, money, and control weaving into a web that Mira had no way of escaping. I watched Mia walking away from me.

Quietly, I moved behind the doors of the company, careful to remain unseen. From this vantage, I could hear their discussion, their voices crisp and deliberate.

I stayed there, silent, listening.

I pressed myself against the wall, listening intently as the voices carried through the thick double doors.

“When exactly is Mira going to get the contract from Voss?” a man’s voice asked, sharp, impatient. “You know the Voss Corporation is already pulling strings behind the scenes. And with Dr. Milton Carroway backing them, if he steps in, we lose our only chance to take Delacroix Security Agency global.”

Another voice, low but venomous, added, “We need to do something. If Mira isn’t capable, she should resign now. Save us all the trouble.”

The tension was thick enough to taste. I felt it press against my chest.

Mira’s voice cut through, sharp and furious. “Do you think I haven’t been working hard? Don’t you see how much effort I’ve put into this? I believe I’ll get it done—very soon!”

I could hear Lucien’s deep, impatient tone slice through the argument. “When? When will that occur?”

Mira hesitated, then said cautiously, “I’m not sure of the exact time… but I’ve heard that Kael—he’s close with Seraphina Voss. I believe he can get it done for me.”

A hush fell. Lucien’s voice, cold and precise, asked, “Who is Kael?”

Darren stepped forward quickly, tone respectful. “He’s my brother, sir.”

Lucien’s voice tightened. “The one who was sent to prison?”

Mira jumped in, firm. “Yes, but I’m planning to transfer him to Managing Director. He’s capable—he can handle it.”

A man’s voice hissed from across the room. “She can’t be serious. Who would accept a murderer into a company?”

Darren’s jaw tightened. “My younger brother is not a murderer.”

The man sneered, venom dripping. “Will Darren shut up? How dare he speak while we—”

Darren lowered his head. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” the man spat, standing taller. “Is that all?” He moved toward Darren, slapping him sharply across the face. “Has Darren already forgotten his place in this family?” His words were sarcastic, mocking every inch of Darren’s composure.

Darren sank to one knee. “Sorry, sir.”

Something inside me snapped. I shoved off the wall and stormed toward the room, fury burning through every step. The doors swung open behind me with a loud crash. All eyes turned.

“Who the hell—” someone muttered, shocked.

I ignored them. My eyes locked on Julien, the man who had just slapped Darren. Every muscle tensed, my hands gripping his collar as I prepared to strike.

“Kael, stop!” Darren shouted, his voice cracking, his hands reaching toward me.

“Kael… please, stop!” Darren fell to his knees, begging, hands clutching at my arms. But the anger in me was a living thing, screaming.