The Grim Sovereign

Chapter 18

My fist tightened in Julien’s collar, dragging him so close I could see the veins in his eyes bulging. His breath came ragged, short, almost choking as his fingers clawed desperately at my arm. He tapped weakly against my forearm, trying to signal surrender.

“Apologize,” I growled, my voice like steel cutting through the silence of the room.

Julien gasped, struggling, his face reddening, but my grip only tightened.

“Kael!” Darren’s voice trembled behind me, pleading, but I didn’t move an inch. My eyes stayed locked on the man who dared slap my brother.

“How dare you lay your filthy hands on him?!” I barked. “If you don’t want to end up dead tonight, then you apologize to my brother right now!”

The room fell into stunned silence. Then, Seraphine shot to her feet, her voice shrill with outrage.

“Father! Are you going to sit there and watch him kill my husband? Call the police! Stop him!”

But I ignored her. My hand didn’t budge. Julien’s lips parted in gasps, eyes watering, his body trembling as he fought for air.

All eyes turned toward Lucien Delacroix—the man who ruled them all. The patriarch sat silent, his face carved from stone, his eyes sharp as blades. Everyone waited for his command.

Finally, his voice thundered, cold and undeniable.

“Apologize.”

The word froze the room. Even I felt the weight of it.

Lucien leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving Julien.

“Julien, apologize to Darren. Right now.”

Gasps rippled through the gathering. Shock was painted on every face. Even Seraphine’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Father! How could you?” she shouted. “How could you humiliate my husband like this—apologizing to Darren of all people?”

Julien’s pride fought hard, but the fear in his eyes was greater. His voice cracked, hoarse from my grip.

“I… I’m sorry.”

I tilted my head, pressing him harder against my arm.

“I couldn’t hear you properly.”

The embarrassment on his face was unbearable for him, but survival forced his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Darren,” Julien repeated, clearer this time, his voice breaking.

Only then did I release him. He crumpled onto the floor like discarded trash, coughing violently, his hands clutching his throat. Seraphine rushed to him immediately, her words dripping venom.

“Kael—you’ll regret this! I swear you’ll pay!”

I ignored her. Straightening my shirt, I turned to Lucien and gave a small bow.

“My apologies for interrupting your meeting. I’ll make my exit.”

Lucien’s gaze burned into me.

“You. You’re the one bearing the name Kael?”

I lifted my head, meeting his stare without flinching, and nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Lucien leaned back, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips.

“I like you already. Confidence. Boldness. Qualities too rare in this family.”

His words made the others stir uneasily, but he didn’t care.

“I’ve heard talk of you being promoted to Managing Director. Is that true?”

My eyes flicked to Darren. He looked at me, uncertain, but nodded slightly. I clenched my jaw.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me… is it true you can help this company secure the contract from Voss?”

For a moment, I almost told the truth—that I’d only met Seraphina today, that I didn’t know her enough to wield such influence. But then my gaze shifted to Mira, standing silent under the crushing weight of her family’s scorn. I saw Darren too, beaten down, humiliated, never valued because of his poor background.

If this was the way to give him worth in their eyes… then I would make it happen.

I straightened, my voice firm and cutting.

“Yes. I’ll get the contract.”

The room erupted in murmurs of shock. Even Mira’s eyes widened in disbelief. Darren’s voice trembled.

“Kael…?”

I raised a hand, silencing him.

“But—” I said slowly, letting the word hang in the air. “—it will be under one condition.”

Lucien’s eyes sharpened, intrigued.

“And what is that condition?”

I stepped forward, my tone calm but commanding.

“Promote Darren to Managing Director. I will only serve as his assistant.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Faces twisted in confusion and outrage, Seraphine’s mouth falling open in disbelief, Julien coughing on the floor, still too weak to speak.

But my eyes never left Lucien. This was no request. It was a demand.

Lucien’s eyes pinned me where I stood, sharp as a blade, testing me. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of command.

“So that is what you want? If I grant Darren the seat of Managing Director… you will get the contract for this company?”

I straightened my back, not flinching.

“Yes. You can count on me for that.”

For a long moment, Lucien simply stared. His fingers tapped slowly against the polished table, each knock echoing in the tense silence. Then, with a roll of his hand on the surface, he spoke with finality.

“Sure. As you wish. Darren will be promoted.”

The words were law. Everyone in the room stiffened in shock.

Lucien stood, his chair groaning back, and like obedient shadows his children followed his rise. They began filing out, but as the patriarch reached the door, he paused. His head turned slightly toward me.

“Kael,” he said, his deep voice carrying like a decree. “I have a birthday coming up soon. I want you to attend.”

No request. A command.

And then he was gone, his entourage trailing behind. Darren and Mira bowed their heads respectfully as he passed.

When Seraphine reached me, she leaned close, her face dark with fury.

“You will regret this. You will regret humiliating me and my husband today.”

I met her glare without blinking.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Her eyes flared before she stormed off.

The door hadn’t even fully closed before Darren pinched my arm sharply.

“Kael! Why the hell did you do that? Do you even know who Julien is?”

I turned to him, my tone steady.

“I don’t care who the hell he is. He’s not in any position to hurt my brother. Remember this, Darren—I’ll never forgive anyone who lays a hand on you.”

Darren froze, his lips pressed tight, his eyes shifting away.

Mira stepped closer, her face clouded with worry.

“About the contract… do you really believe this could work out?”

I sighed, adjusting my jacket.

“We’ll have to see.”

Darren looked ready to argue again, but my phone beeped, a sharp reminder. My eyes flicked to the screen. The time. The meeting with the president.

“I have somewhere I need to be,” I said quickly. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Before they could protest further, I walked out of the room, my steps firm, making my way out of the office .

Soon, I stood in front of Aurelius Lounge, the legendary restaurant tucked in the heart of the city. Its golden bell gleamed by the door. I reached up and rang it once.

The chime carried inside, and an old man lifted his head from behind the counter. His eyes warmed with recognition.

“Welcome,”

I stepped in, the air rich with history. The Lounge was exactly as I remembered—timeless.

Taking a table near the corner, I settled down. Without asking, the old man brought me a cup of steaming tea.

I frowned.

“I haven’t made a reservation yet.”

The man smiled knowingly.

“This is how we treat our customers.”

I blinked, the memory rushing back. Aurelius Lounge… it had been standing since the ancient days of the city, one of the oldest and most respected places. I remembered when I was young and broke—I used to sneak in here for free tea. When the menu came, I’d run off before I had to pay.

Nothing had changed. Their warmth was still the same.

I bowed my head slightly.

“Thank you.”

Lifting the cup, I sipped.

The burn hit instantly. A scorching fire spread down my throat. I clutched at my neck, the cup slipping from my hand and shattering on the floor. My voice rasped, broken.

“What… what did you… do to me?”

The old man’s lips twisted into a smile, then a laugh—dark, sharp, cutting into the silence.

Pain tore through me. My knees buckled. In rage, I grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him close even as my strength faltered.

“You…” I growled through the fire burning my chest.

But the pain was too much. My grip slipped. My body gave way.

And then I collapsed onto the floor.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

Darkness pressed on me first. A heavy, suffocating weight that clawed through my skull until I could no longer tell if I was asleep or trapped between life and death. My head throbbed like someone had hammered nails into it, every muscle in my body screaming with pain. Slowly… painfully… I forced my eyes open.

The blur sharpened, and the first face I saw nearly made my chest seize.

Seraphina Voss.

Her eyes were steady, her crimson lips curved into that same unreadable smile I remembered. She leaned forward slightly, her voice smooth as silk but carrying the edge of authority.

“We meet again,” she said. “How are you doing, Kael?”

Her words cut through the haze in my mind, pulling me fully into reality. I tried to move, but that’s when I felt it—the harsh bite of rope against my wrists. My hands were tied behind the chair. A single light swung above me, drowning the room in shadows. My phone, my ID card, every accessory I carried—gone.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Where are we?” My voice came out rough, strained, but sharp enough to slice the silence.

Seraphina tilted her head, her expression almost apologetic. “The president will be here in a minute. I’m sorry, Kael, but we know the rage you still carry against the government. We couldn’t risk your presence without… precautions.”

Her words stung deeper than the ropes. Rage? She had no idea. Rage was too gentle a word for what boiled inside me.

The door clicked. A low echo spread through the room. Seraphina straightened, her heels tapping softly as she rose from her seat. The air thickened with tension as the door swung open, revealing him.

The President.

Two guards flanked him, but his eyes—the same sharp eyes that once commanded armies and nations—were locked only on me.

“Long time no see, my Captain,” he greeted, his voice heavy with memory.

I let out a bitter laugh, though the rope dug deeper into my skin. “Do our meetings usually have to be this grand?”

The President’s lips curved slightly, though not in amusement. “I’m aware of your meeting with De Milton Carroway,” he said, circling the table slowly, like a wolf studying its prey. “Tell me, Kael… what was it about?”

“Are you watching me?”

“I always watch,” he replied calmly. Then his voice dipped lower, edged with regret. “I know how you feel, Kael. But I won’t stand here and insult you with an apology that you’ll never accept.”

My chest heaved, anger searing through me. My voice cracked out like thunder. “Twelve men died.”

The words hung in the room, suffocating. I could still see their faces, their blood, their screams.

“They had wives,” I continued, my voice rougher now. “Children. Families waiting at home. And because of the government’s greed, they’re gone. Just like that.”

The President stopped pacing. For the first time, he met my eyes without the shield of power in his voice. “I am the President, Kael. And unless you sit in this chair, you can never truly understand the weight of the choices I make. Every day, I sign decisions I hate. Every day, I carry the ghosts of men just like yours. But the law isn’t always merciful. It cannot always bend my heart.”

I leaned forward as much as the rope allowed, my words venomous. “And those men? The ones who died? Were they not part of this country too?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

The President exhaled heavily. “Kael…” he said softly, almost like he was pleading. “I promise you—one day, when my term ends, I will confess to the world. I will bear the weight of every sin, every death. But until then, I beg you… do this one last assignment for me.”

His words carried desperation, but also a fire that I knew too well.

“This isn’t just about Malik Radwan anymore,” he continued, his voice hardening. “There is another psychopath out there. Someone far worse. Someone kills at will.”

A bitter laugh slipped from my throat, though pain laced every sound. “I already know,” I spat. “They came for me. I was attacked.”

That shook him. The President’s eyes widened, his composure faltering for the first time since he entered. “What?” His fists clenched. “You were attacked?”

“Yes,” I growled. “And if you’re truly as informed as you claim… then tell me.” My eyes burned into his, unyielding. “Do you have anyone in mind? Any name that could be behind this madness?”

The president leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze boring into me.

“The only one I have in mind,” he said slowly, his voice thick with weight, “is Raven.”

I blinked, the name hitting me like a whisper from a ghost.

“Raven?” My voice carried a bit of disbelief.

The president’s eyes darkened. “Yes. Raven. You might not know him personally… but once, he was like you. Fearless. A soldier cut from fire. I served beside him, years ago, before I stepped into this office. Back then, he was a storm no enemy could tame.”

He leaned forward, his tone lowering. “He left the military two years before you even joined, Kael. But his shadow still lingers. A shadow I fear more than any war.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, confusion and unease crawling through me. “Why tell me this now?”

The president didn’t answer right away. Instead, he opened a locked folder and pulled out a worn file, sliding it across the desk toward me. His eyes gleamed coldly.

“Do you remember the project—the Clean Seed?”

“Yes,” I muttered.

His voice grew sharp, almost metallic. “Decades ago, there was a record. Two children… born with the psychopath gene. A gene that strips away empathy, leaving only bloodlust. The first one… was Raven.”

“And the second?” I asked.

The president’s eyes turned grave. “The second is still out there. No name. No trace. A phantom we can’t pin down. But I know… they exist.”

With that, he reached for another file and spread it open. Photographs spilled across the polished wood of his desk.

I froze.

The men were mutilated beyond recognition, throats slit with surgical precision, eyes wide open in eternal terror. Blood-stained walls, torn flesh, lives snuffed out with a cruelty that screamed of someone who enjoyed it.

My chest tightened. This wasn’t just killing. This was art to the monster who had done it.

I looked up at him, jaw clenched. “And you want me to find this man?”

The president’s voice dropped, heavy as chains. “Yes. I want you to find him, Kael. Because only someone like you—someone who’s walked through fire—can face him.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And if I succeed?”

For the first time, the president’s mask cracked, his expression hard yet strangely weary. “If you do it… if you bring him down… I’ll tell the whole damn world the truth. About what really happened that night with your comrades.”

“I’ll resign from this office myself,” he added firmly.