FAR GONE

Chapter 25

The moment Dr. Milton Carroway appeared, Elias’s arrogance drained from his face. He quickly straightened his clothes and rushed toward him like a frightened child seeking refuge.

“Uncle,” Elias said, his voice thick with urgency.

But Carroway didn’t even look at him. His sharp, assessing eyes went first to the old man on the ground, bruised and trembling, then to me where I stood with clenched fists, watching silently. The weight of his gaze was like steel—calm, cold, deliberate.

Elias cleared his throat, trying to cover his unease. “Uncle, can I know what’s going on here? This man—”

He tried to jump in, words tumbling fast, but Carroway lifted one hand, stopping him like a blade drawn to his throat.

“I don’t want to hear it from you,” he said, voice low but commanding. “I want the old man to speak. Tell me exactly what happened here.”

Elias froze, shame flashing across his face as murmurs ran through the crowd. For once, he had no stage to act upon. He stepped back, frowning, his pride leaking away under Carroway’s dismissal.

The old man bowed weakly, wincing from the pain in his leg. “Dr. Carroway, sir…” His voice trembled with both respect and bitterness. “I was crossing the road properly when your nephew’s car swerved and nearly struck me down. I lost my footing, fell hard, and hurt my leg. Instead of helping me, he came out… and slapped me. He told me if I was tired of life, I should go home and die with my children. That’s what happened.”

His words spread through the crowd like wildfire. Gasps, disbelieving stares, whispers carried the weight of truth.

Elias’s jaw tightened. He stepped forward, desperation lacing his words. “Uncle, it wasn’t exactly like that—”

Crack!

The sound of Carroway’s palm connecting with Elias’s cheek echoed like thunder in the silence. The crowd collectively gasped, hands flying to mouths, some even taking a step back in shock. Elias staggered sideways, clutching his face, stunned that his uncle had humiliated him so publicly.

“Apologize. Instantly,” Carroway ordered, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

Elias’s face burned red as he forced himself upright. With every ounce of pride stripped from him, he shuffled toward the old man. His head bowed low—something I never thought I would witness from him.

“I’m… sorry,” he muttered stiffly.

The crowd broke into hushed whispers, disbelief heavy in their tone.

“Did he just apologize?”

“I never thought Elias was capable of it.”

“Unbelievable. Carroway made him kneel.”

Carroway turned back to the old man, inclining his head slightly. “I apologize for what my cousin has caused. I assure you, such behavior will never happen again. Not now, not in the future.”

The old man’s eyes glistened as he straightened, almost in tears from the unexpected justice.

“What’s your name?” Carroway asked.

The old man bowed again. “Sir, my name is Raymond Holt.”

Carroway nodded. “Mr. Holt, I would like to meet you again. If it will not trouble you, please leave your address with my secretary. I will visit you personally in the nearest future.”

The old man’s face broke into a wide, disbelieving smile. He bowed deeply. The crowd murmured again, this time with awe at Carroway’s unexpected fairness.

Then, at last, Carroway’s gaze turned to me. His expression softened into something almost familiar. “Kael,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

My jaw tightened the instant his words reached me.

“How is your son doing?” he asked casually, as though we were old friends catching up.

The mention of my son burned through me like fire. My blood boiled, my hands clenched at my sides. He had no right to bring him up—not here, not in front of everyone. I felt the anger rise in my chest, choking, unstoppable.

Jessica’s words echoed in my mind like a bell tolling in a silent chapel. Dr. Milton was there… he was present the day my son was operated. I never forgot that. So when he asked about my boy, I swallowed the heat burning inside me and forced myself to speak.

“I’m grateful for your concern,” I said evenly, though my jaw was tight. “Thanks to you, my son is gradually improving.”

Milton’s sharp gaze lingered on me for a moment, unreadable, then he gave a small nod, as though my answer satisfied him. Without another word, he turned and began walking inside, his steps steady, commanding the respect of everyone who looked on.

Elias, humiliated beyond repair, shuffled after him like a beaten dog, his pride stripped away.

I exhaled slowly. That was when Mia appeared at my side. Her gentle touch landed on my shoulder, grounding me. “Kael…” she whispered, her eyes worried, softening the storm brewing in me.

I straightened, then turned to the old man. He was still catching his breath, his face lined with pain and gratitude. I bent slightly and helped him up.

“Thank you, young man,” the old man said clasping my hand with his frail fingers. “Thank you for standing up for me when I thought no one would.”

I looked him in the eye and answered firmly, “Be careful next time. People like Elias are despicable—avoid them whenever you can.”

The old man nodded, sighing deeply.

Mia tilted her head, he looked so concerned. “Where are you going, sir?” she asked kindly.

The old man raised a trembling hand and pointed down the street. “Just over there, to my place.”

“I’ll help you,” I said without hesitation. He looked surprised, but he didn’t protest. I picked up his small luggage—an old, worn bag—and supported him as we walked.

We reached a narrow building not far from the square. The old man pointed at the stairway. “Upstairs… that’s my house. You should go now, young man, or you’ll miss your party.”

I gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll visit you one day.”

His eyes brightened with hope, and I left him standing at the base of the stairs, still smiling.

As I walked away, something caught my eye. I saw a man, he was dressed all in black, with a cap pulled low over his face, standing in the shadows. His posture was too rigid. The moment he noticed me watching, he spun around and slipped away, moving fast.

My instincts flared and I was ready to chase and corner him before he vanished completely. But then—

“Kael!”

I turned sharply. It was Mia, hurrying toward me, she furrowed her brows in worry.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, as she look around curiously.

I looked back to the alley where the man had disappeared—but it was empty now, nothing but silence and shadows.

“Nothing,” I said flatly, masking the unease gnawing at me.

Mia touched my arm again. “Come on. We should head to the party.”

I forced myself to nod. “No problem. Let’s go.”

And together, we left for the Delacroix party—though my mind lingered on the faceless man who had slipped away.

The moment I stepped into the hall, the sheer grandeur almost stopped me in my tracks. So this is the Hall of Fame of Delacroix. I had heard whispers of its splendor, of how only the richest, most profound people of the city could afford to host anything here, but words hadn’t done it justice.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled from the ceiling, their golden glow bouncing off polished marble floors. Silk curtains, embroidered with intricate patterns, draped along the walls. Each table glistened with silverware and wine glasses that looked like they’d never been touched by mortal hands. The air was thick with perfume, wealth, and quiet arrogance.

I walked deeper into the hall with Mia standing at my side, my eyes were scanning everything. Already, the place was filled with men in sharp suits and women in gowns shimmering like liquid jewels. The room was filled with laughter and conversation spilling in waves.

The hall was divided, and it was impossible not to notice. The inner wings were tiered like steps in a pyramid. The closer to the center, the higher your standing. The more elevated the section, the more powerful the people who sat there.

Mia leaned toward me, her voice was soft and filled with the kind of detail only someone who paid attention would know. “See the guards with the lists? They assign seats based on the cards you’re holding. Everyone has one. The color decides your rank here.”

I frowned, watching the different glints of cards in people’s hands.

“The black cards,” Mia continued, nodding toward a group of men in tailored suits close to the innermost circle, “are for the Elites. Top of the chain—old money, dynasties, founders, and those in the Elite Society.”

She shifted slightly, pointing discreetly. “The gold cards are for nobles and powerful businessmen. Blue belongs to families with high status but not at the top. Red is for wealthy new players, people climbing the ladder. And white—” she gestured toward the outermost seats, “—that’s for commoners. Those who barely scraped an invite.”

As she explained, two guards stepped forward and blocked our path with a polite but firm gesture.

“Your cards,” one of them demanded.

I slipped mine from my pocket and handed it over.

The guard’s brows lifted slightly. He looked at his partner. The two exchanged a glance before looking back at me, then at Mia. A faint smirk tugged at one of their lips.

“This way,” he said, pointing toward the farthest end of the hall.

The white section.

Mia’s jaw tightened. I could feel her embarrassment, but me? I didn’t care. Seats didn’t define me. I followed without complaint, sitting down where they showed me.

From there, my eyes never left Dr. Milton Carroway. He was in his element, moving smoothly from one cluster of elites to another. His handshakes were confident, his smile sharp, his words dripping with charisma. People leaned toward him as if he were the very axis of power.

Beside me, Mia kept whispering the names of those he greeted. “That’s the Berwyn family… they control half the textile market. Over there—the Luthors, shipping magnates. That woman with the green gown, she’s from the Galloway family… pharmaceuticals…”

I only half-listened. My gaze stayed fixed on Milton, memorizing his every move.

Then, a voice broke the air.

“Ohhh, who do we have here?”

I turned, Mia stiffening at my side. Standing there was Kane Veylor. His smug face twisted with malice, his eyes lingering on Mia with a sneer.

“Well, well. The b***h who ran off with my money,” Kane spat. “And her useless bodyguard.”

Mia straightened instantly, her chin tilting upward. Her words cut back at him with fire. “Better a b***h who ran away with your money than a coward who can’t earn his own.”

Kane’s smile soured. His gaze swept over us with disgust. “So this is where you ended up? Among the low seats. How disgusting. I lent money to a lowlife like you? A waste.”

Mia’s lips parted, ready to retort again, but I cut in, my voice low, steady, laced with threat.

“Do you want this lowlife,” I said, leaning forward, “to cut your throat out tonight?”

Kane scoffed, unafraid, though his eyes flickered for a second. “Do you even realize who’s here, Kael? Look around. These people don’t care how good you think you are in a fight. If I snap my fingers, they’ll kill you in seconds.”

His words dripped arrogance, but I stood anyway, my eyes boring into him. My hands itched for violence, but then—

“Kael.”

I froze. The voice belonged to Darren. He walked toward me with purpose, his presence drawing eyes from the nearby seats.

“Please,” Darren said quietly but firmly, his gaze locking onto mine. “Stay low tonight. This night is important—for both you and me.”

I studied him for a moment, then let out a slow breath. “…No problem.” Reluctantly, I sat back down.

Darren turned to Kane, his expression sharpening. “And you. Find your seat before you’re thrown out disgracefully. You know I don’t tolerate vermin playing games in places like this. I know exactly how to treat people like you.”

Kane’s lips twisted, rage simmering, but before he could shoot back—

A voice rang out from the stage, echoing across the hall.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise. We welcome the founder of Delacroix.”

The hall fell into reverent silence.