FAR GONE

Chapter 24

I narrowed my eyes at her, unable to stop myself. “What do you mean you’re okay, Mia? Just because you can stand on your feet doesn’t mean you’re ready to be at some crowded party.” My voice came out harsher than I intended, the words laced with something that felt too much like worry. “That would be so bad for you. What if you didn’t get enough treatment? What if it relapses?”

I stepped closer, holding her gaze, my tone softer now. “You think I don’t care? You think I don’t notice? Mia, I won’t allow you to follow me there. I can’t risk it—not like this.”

Her expression faltered, her lips parting. Then, like a child begging to hold onto a dream, she whispered, “Please, Kael… please. I really want to attend.”

I shook my head, but she pressed on, her eyes shimmering with determination. “I’ve always wished to attend Delacroix’s party. You know how many important figures will be there tonight. I can’t afford to miss it. I don’t want to miss it.”

Her voice cracked, but she stood firm.

I opened my mouth to argue again, but before I could, she stepped past me with a little defiant lift of her chin. “Follow me from behind, Kael. If you’re so worried, then watch me closely. But I’m going.”

I let out a breath, long and sharp. There was no winning against her stubbornness—not tonight. Against my better judgment, I gave in. I followed her from behind.

She flagged down a cab, slipped inside gracefully, and I slid in after her. Silence held between us as the city blurred by the window.

When we reached the towering venue, the air itself felt heavy with wealth. A string of polished cars lined the entrance, guests already shimmering in gowns and tuxedos under the glow of chandeliers spilling out of the building.

We stepped out of the cab just as another car pulled in—a sleek, black, custom-built luxury beast that roared like a predator. The tires screeched dangerously close to a man crossing the path.

The man stumbled back, falling to the ground. He looked old, his clothes torn and soiled, his face sunken—the kind of man the world forgot long ago. A beggar.

The driver’s door slammed open. A tall man stepped out, tailored suit gleaming like armor. Without hesitation, his hand cracked against the old man’s cheek.

SMACK!

The sound tore through the courtyard. It was so loud. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The man snarled, his voice laced with venom. “What the hell were you doing?! Do you want to kill yourself with my car? If you’re tired of living, then go home and die with your worthless children!”

The crowd whispered, shocked, yet none dared step forward.

Security rushed over, but instead of restraining him, they bowed low, heads dipped in deference. “Welcome, Master Elias,” they said with chilling respect.

My jaw tightened.

Beside me, Mia exhaled sharply. “Oh… it’s Elias Carroway.”

I turned to her, my voice rough. “Who the hell is he?”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Dr. Milton Carroway’s cousin. He’s part of the Carroway family.”

The words snapped something inside me. My blood boiled. Another Carroway. Another parasite walking freely, poisoning this city, daring to flaunt his arrogance in the open.

Elias turned to walk toward the building, smirking, but then—

“Apologize,” the old man’s voice cracked through the courtyard.

The entire place froze.

Elias stopped mid-step, his back stiffening. Slowly, he turned, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, amusement hiding the edge of danger.

The old man held his ground, clutching his leg. “You heard me. You should apologize. You’re the one who left your lane and nearly hit me. You forced me to the ground, hurt my leg—and then you slapped me. You owe me an apology.”

Elias froze for a beat at the old man’s words, then suddenly burst into laughter. A cruel, booming laugh that echoed through the courtyard. He clutched his stomach, tilting his head back as if he had just heard the funniest joke in his life.

“You?” he pointed a mocking finger at the old man, still laughing. “Tell me I heard right—this old, filthy, rugged beggar actually thinks I’ll apologize? To him?”

The laughter died into a sneer, his voice dripping with venom. “Does this mean you, an old f*****g rag of a man, really believe I’d bow my head before you? That I’d apologize?”

The old man stood taller despite his limp, his face grim with dignity. “Yes,” he said firmly, his voice cracking but unbroken. “I will not leave unless you apologize. You nearly killed me with your car. You threw me to the ground. You slapped me. I demand what is mine—my right as a man. You must apologize.”

Gasps rippled through the onlookers. Nobody had ever spoken to Elias like this.

Elias smirked, tilting his head arrogantly. “Look around you, old fool.” He swept his arm toward the frozen crowd. “Do you think anyone here can make me apologize? Do you even know who I am? No one in this place can look into my eyes without trembling—let alone demand something from me.”

The old man’s lips curled in defiance. “Really?” he said, his voice steady.

That single word sliced through Elias’s pride. His eyes darkened. With a sudden snarl, he shoved the man down again, hard. The beggar hit the pavement with a painful groan. Elias lifted his polished shoe, ready to grind the man’s chest into the ground.

But before he could—

I was already moving. My boot slammed into Elias’s ribs, sending him sprawling across the pavement like a rag doll. He hit the ground with a grunt of pain.

The crowd gasped in shock. Security roared and lunged at me, but I didn’t hesitate. My fists found ribs, elbows cracked jaws. In seconds, they were all writhing on the floor, bones broken, groaning in agony.

Elias coughed, clutching his side where I’d struck him. His face twisted in humiliation, red from both pain and anger. Murmurs rippled through the spectators like wildfire.

“Did you see that? He floored Elias!”

“About time someone stood up to him.”

“That poor old man… he’s right. Elias should’ve apologized.”

The words reached Elias’s ears, and I saw the fury boil in his eyes. He struggled to his feet, shaking, unwilling to let humiliation stick to his name.

I stepped forward, my voice like iron. “Apologize. Right now.”

The murmurs rose again.

I pointed at him. “What? Were you not taught to respect your elders? You nearly hit him with your car, then you slapped him. Twice wrong. If anyone here should apologize, it’s you.”

The crowd murmured louder, agreement spreading like fire in dry grass.

“He’s right.”

“How could Elias strike an old man?”

“Shameful, the Carroway name behaving like this…”

Elias’s face twisted with rage, his pride collapsing under the weight of public scorn. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he bellowed, spit flying.

One of his battered guards staggered close, whispering in his ear. Elias’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing into slits.

“Ohh…” Elias chuckled darkly. “So you’re him. The traitor. The one who killed his own comrades.”

Gasps rippled again. All eyes turned to me.

He sneered, voice sharp and venomous. “And now, the murderer of his brothers wants to lecture me about morals?”

I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Really? That’s the story you choose to believe?” I c****d my head, voice cutting with sarcasm. “Coming from you, Elias, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

He bristled, words choking in his throat as he tried to argue back, but before he could—

“STOP. That’s enough.”

The voice sliced through the chaos like a blade. The murmurs fell into instant silence.

All heads turned.

There, striding through the courtyard, flanked by his own men, was Dr. Milton Carroway. His presence bent the air itself, his aura pressing down on everyone like a storm.

Gasps and whispers erupted at once.

“It’s Dr. Milton…”

“He’s here in person.”

“The Carroway patriarch himself…”