He who brings hell

Delacroix

**Kael Maddox – POV**

The tires rolled to a slow stop in front of a gleaming, obsidian-black building that stood like a fortress among the lesser structures around it. I stepped out of the car, my boots hitting the pristine pavement with a soft thud. For a second, I just stared.

This wasn’t what I expected.

Darren had given me a rundown of the Delacroix Security Agency on the way over—“tight operation,” “just a small team,” “nothing fancy”—but what stood in front of me was anything but small. The architecture was sleek, with reinforced glass panels that shimmered like water in the sun. Wide marble steps led to a broad front entrance flanked by steel columns. Outside the entrance, a cherry-red Pagani Huayra sat parked like it owned the street. That car alone was worth more than what I made in a decade back when I was active.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

Darren chuckled beside me as he came around from the other side of the car. “Surprised? I told you about it.”

“You said it was a small firm.”

He grinned. “I lied. Welcome to Delacroix.”

He motioned for me to follow, and we began walking up the steps. As we did, I glanced around at the polished security cameras tracking our movements and the two suited guards at the door with earpieces tucked into their collars.

I didn’t know much about Mira Delacroix’s family, but I’d heard the history. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes.

“This place doesn’t look registered under any government security body,” I said, scanning the perimeter.

“It’s not,” Darren replied as we approached the doors. “Not yet. The National Office of Private Defense and Security Enterprises—NOPDSE—still hasn’t approved our license.”

I gave him a sharp look. “You’re running an unregistered paramilitary organization?”

He shrugged. “Technically, it’s a consulting agency for now.”

“Right.”

“My father-in-law’s working on it,” Darren added as we entered the building. “Mr. Lucien Delacroix wants it fully legalized, and he’s got friends high up. Once the elections are over, the paperwork will be easier.”

I recognized the name. Lucien Delacroix. CEO of multiple multinational firms. The kind of man who could make presidents shake.

We walked into a vast lobby with glass floors and chrome paneling. People in suits moved with military precision, some tapping away on tablets, others holding folders stamped with high-priority tags. Every corner screamed money.

“And next week’s election,” Darren continued, lowering his voice, “might decide how fast that happens.”

He glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one was listening.

“Rumors are going around. They say Dr. Felix Montgomery might win.”

I paused mid-step.

“Montgomery?” I asked, voice low and tense. “Isn’t he the former Prime Minister?”

Darren gave a sharp nod. “The same one.”

A shadow passed over my face.

“He’s the one who aborted your last mission,” Darren said. “The one who ordered the execution of your entire unit.”

My jaw clenched, memories rushing up like a tide I’d tried to suppress.

“No one wants that man as Mayor, Kael,” Darren added, his voice suddenly serious. “People know what he’s done. And if he gets into office here? It could only mean one thing—he’s consolidating power again.”

I exhaled through my nose and turned away from him. “I don’t want to talk about that one. Not now.”

Darren nodded in silence.

We kept walking, the lobby swallowing our footsteps as I pushed the thoughts of Montgomery back down where they belonged.

As we stepped through the towering glass doors, the air changed. Cold and metallic, with an undertone of polished oak and aged paper. A strange mix.

Sitting at the front desk in the spacious lobby was a woman—late fifties, maybe early sixties. Her gray hair was tied into a harsh bun, and her lips were pressed together so tightly it looked like they hadn’t smiled in a decade. A single silver chain dangled from her glasses, and she stared directly at us with the unimpressed gaze of a war veteran.

Darren greeted her politely. “Good afternoon, Madam Corvina.”

Just as Darren opened his mouth to introduce me, the woman raised one hand without even looking up.

“No need for long speeches, Darren,” she said curtly, flipping through a large book pulled from beneath the desk. “Mira already called. We know who he is. We know what he needs.”

Her tone was sharp and rude, with a theatrical eye-roll that almost made me laugh.

With a sigh, she dropped the book onto the desk and opened it wide. “Sign here, Mr. In-Law,” she said with venomous sarcasm. “In this modern day, imagine still using your brother’s wife’s influence to get a job. As a security officer, no less. Common.”

Darren stiffened beside me, but before he could utter a word, I gripped his arm and gave him a shake of my head. Then I pulled the pen from the desk and filled out the form swiftly, refusing to let her provoke me.

Just as I was handing the book back, she peered at me over the rim of her glasses and said flatly, “Cleaner’s office. That’s where you’ll be working from now on.”

Darren exploded. “How dare you—”

“It’s okay,” I interrupted gently, placing a hand on his chest. “Let it go.”

“What? No. Kael, you’re not doing this.”

I ignored him and turned to the woman. “Where’s the dormitory?”

She barely looked up. “Ask the man in charge of sanitation. He’ll know.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied bitterly, returning to her papers.

---

Darren pulled me aside, clearly fuming. “You’re not seriously taking that job, are you?”

“I am,” I said, calm but firm. “It’s enough. It’s a roof over my head and a fresh start. That’s more than I’ve had in years.”

He looked down, eyes clouded. “You deserve better.”

“I owe you, Darren. I’ll never forget what you did—what you paid for me. But right now, I’m tired. I just want to rest.”

He nodded slowly, breathing out in defeat. “Then rest properly. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

He turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the marble halls, but I called out. “Darren—”

He stopped and turned.

I walked up to him and pulled him into a hug—tighter than I intended, but I needed him to feel the gratitude I couldn’t say.

“I missed you,” I whispered. “Thank you. For the debt. For everything.”

He patted my back firmly. “Start over, Kael. Live. And love. Comfortably this time.”

He pulled away, gave me one last nod, and finally left through the doors.

---

I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked deeper into the building. A young man directed me to a side corridor, then down two more halls before I found the “cleaner’s dorm.”

The door creaked open, and I stepped inside.

It was... bad.

Peeling walls. A single flickering bulb hanging overhead. Dust on the floor. The kind of place forgotten by people.

The light blinked twice… then shut off completely.

I tossed my bag onto the creaky metal bed and collapsed backward onto the thin mattress, staring at the ceiling.

I thought about Darren and Mira’s daughter and the poison.

How does it reached here?.

And the sniper.

And those who killed him.

What was their ambition?

There were too many questions, and not a single answer.