Rise Of Michael Jordan

Chapter 15

Jessica’s eyes were steady, sharp as steel when she spoke.

“Listen, Kael. You’re not the only one who has unfinished business with Milton.” Her voice dropped lower, a weight carried in every word. “The day after tomorrow. 9 p.m. sharp. Be ready—and come with me. There’s somewhere I need to take you.”

Before I could press her for answers, she turned on her heels, her coat swaying lightly as she walked away. She slid into a sleek black car waiting at the curb. Within seconds, the vehicle vanished into the night.

I stood there, rooted, my was mind spinning. Jessica’s confession still rang in my ears. Milton killed her parents. She’s been waiting… waiting all this time.

I barely noticed the street around me until I heard it—my name.

“Kael!”

I turned sharply. My chest tightened as two familiar figures emerged from the shadows under the streetlight.

Mia. And Miss Seraphina.

“Mia?” My voice cracked with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She rushed forward, worry etched in every line of her face. “I was informed by Miss Seraphina about what happened to Liam. I… I had to come. But you—are you okay?”

I forced a small nod. “Yes. I’m good.”

Seraphina stepped closer, her sharp gaze flicking toward the street Jessica had disappeared into. Her lips pressed thin. “That woman who just left… was she not Jessica? Milton’s personal assistant?”

I exhaled, heavy, my jaw tightening. “Yeah. That was her.”

Her brow furrowed, suspicion glinting in her eyes. “And what was she doing here?”

“She bailed me out,” I said bluntly.

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed further. “By Milton’s order?”

I shook my head. “No. She came alone. By herself. No one sent her.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us, broken only by the passing hum of a distant car. Then Seraphina drew in a slow breath.

“What happened to Hwarthorne?” I asked, my voice flat, cautious.

Her gaze met mine, but she didn’t answer directly. Instead, her voice carried a warning tone. “Kael, be careful of Jessica. She might’ve acted on her own tonight, but don’t forget—she belongs to Milton. His assistant, his shadow. Men like him don’t keep people close without reason. Be wary of her.”

I nodded once, firm. “I’ve heard.”

Mia took a step closer to me, her eyes soft, her voice trembling with worry. “Kael… are you really okay?”

I forced a faint smile, though it felt hollow. “I’m fine, Mia. Don’t worry about me.”

But my mind was already elsewhere—back to Liam, lying in that hospital bed. I let out a heavy sigh. “I have to return to the hospital.”

Seraphina gave a slow nod, her tone calm. “Then go. Focus on Liam. Don’t worry about me right now.”

I held her gaze, then gave a small bow of gratitude. “Thank you, Seraphina.”

Turning from them, I hailed the nearest taxi. The car stopped, its brakes squealing lightly against the wet road. I climbed in, gave the driver the hospital’s address, and leaned back in the seat as the city lights blurred past.

But even as the cab carried me away, Jessica’s words lingered like an echo in my chest.

9 p.m. sharp. In two days, I will know everything about Milton.

When I returned to the hospital, the night was quiet—too quiet. The soft hum of the machines in Liam’s room was the only sound that filled the air.

Aria was there, curled up on the couch, asleep. Her head rested against the armrest, her hair scattered across her face. Liam lay still on the bed, his little chest rising and falling gently.

I stood there watching them—my wife, my son. The two people I should have protected most. The sight hit me like a blade to the chest. They looked so peaceful in their sleep, but I knew the reality that hovered around us was nothing but chaos, pain, and fear.

Because of me, I thought bitterly. Because of who I am, they have been branded. My wife… called the wife of a killer. My son… ostracized, mocked, labeled as the child of a murderer. None of this was their fault, yet they bear the weight of my sins.

Daniel’s words came back to me, sharp and pressing. Relocate. Take them abroad. Give them safety while you fight your war.

He was right. If I truly wanted to go up against Milton—if I wanted to tear down that monster—then I needed to secure my family first. Without that, I was nothing. Without them, I’d lose myself.

A soft rustle pulled me from my thoughts. Aria stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned, brushing her hair back, her voice faint.

“You’re back?”

I stepped closer. “Aria…” I said her name softly.

She looked at me, puzzled. “What is it?”

I hesitated before speaking, then finally let it out. “Would you… would you consider leaving the country for a while?”

Her brows furrowed instantly.

“Please,” I pressed, my voice heavy, almost breaking. “Think of this as the best solution I have right now. Ever since I was released, they’ve been after me. First a sniper, then an assassin. They even twisted the truth, making the world believe I killed my comrades when I never did. And now… with what happened to Liam—” My voice caught, and I had to swallow hard before finishing. “I’m afraid of what they’ll try next.”

She just stared at me, silent, her eyes searching mine.

I reached for her hand, holding it tightly, almost desperately. “Aria… please. Do this for me. For Liam. For us. I can’t fight this war with one eye on Milton and the other constantly fearing for your lives.”

Her lips trembled, but then she shook her head. Her voice was low, steady. “Kael… I never hated you. Not once. I always believed you. I always trusted you. But…” she sighed deeply, her voice cracking, “I don’t want to leave. I’m so tired of running, Kael. Tired of hiding. The first time they caught you at the border and threw you into prison, people spat on me, on Liam. They ostracized us. But I stayed. I waited.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “If I had run then, if I had traveled, how would you have ever known Liam? How would he have met his father?”

Her hand squeezed mine. “Liam needs his father, Kael. And I will stay. No matter what comes.”

“Aria…” I whispered, my chest tightening. “Please reconsider. I know you’re strong, but strength has limits. I can’t lose you both. If anything happens—” I broke off, shaking my head, my voice desperate. “I’d rather die than see you and Liam suffer because of me. Just this once, let me protect you by sending you away. Let me fight without fearing I’ll come back to nothing.”

She pulled her hand free, shaking her head firmly. “No, Kael. You protect us by being here. You protect us by not disappearing again. We’ll face this, together. I won’t leave. Liam won’t leave. That’s final.”

Her voice carried such certainty that I felt my chest clench.

And then—

A soft sound came from the bed. We both turned sharply.

Liam was stirring. Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Liam!” I rushed to him, calling his name. Aria hurried to his side as well, holding his shoulders gently.

But when he looked at us—his eyes, blank and confused—I felt my heart stop.

“Who…” Liam’s voice was weak, fragile. “Who are you?”

The words shattered me.

“What… what are you talking about, Liam?” Aria asked, her eyes wide with shock. Her hand trembled as it reached toward him, but she stopped halfway, afraid to touch him and be pushed away again. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m your mother.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, raw and pleading.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the sight of her. I couldn’t let her crumble alone. Stepping closer, I added, steady but heavy, “She’s right. Aria is your mother… and I’m your father. Liam, we’re not lying to you.”

But his eyes—cold, uncertain, almost frightened—cut through me sharper than any blade.

He shook his head violently, his lips curling in anger. “No. I don’t know you. I don’t know her. And my name is not Liam. Don’t… don’t call me that!”

Aria staggered back, as if struck. Her hand flew to her mouth, and a broken sob escaped. I saw her shoulders shake, her tears spilling freely, and for the first time in years, I felt completely powerless. She had carried him for nine months, raised him until fate tore us apart… and now he looked at her as if she were a stranger.

I bent low, bringing myself level with his gaze, ignoring the rejection burning in my chest. “Listen to me, son. Don’t shut me out,” I whispered, my voice rough. “I am your father. I would never lie to you. You had an accident, Liam… that’s why you’re here. That’s why you’ve been in the hospital. Do you understand?”

His breathing quickened, defiant still. “I don’t believe you!” he snapped. “I don’t believe either of you!”

He tried to say more, but suddenly his words broke off. His hands shot up to his head, clutching tightly as though his skull were being crushed from the inside. His face twisted in agony, and a strangled cry tore out of him.

“Liam!” I shouted, rushing forward. My heart lurched into my throat. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s happening!”

But he couldn’t answer. He writhed, his fingers digging into his hair, his whole body trembling. My gut turned to ice as realization hit me—this wasn’t just anger, something was terribly wrong with his head.

I turned sharply to Aria, my voice almost a roar. “Get the doctor! Now!”

Aria bolted out, her sobs swallowed by panic. I caught Liam before he could fall from the bed, holding him tight against me. His weight felt too light, too fragile. “Hold on, son. Please, hold on,” I whispered desperately, pressing my forehead against his, helpless to ease the pain that tore through him.

Moments later the door burst open. Aria returned, breathless, with a doctor and two nurses at her heels. They swarmed around us instantly, the doctor barking orders while the nurses rushed to stabilize him. Machines beeped wildly, and wires tangled as they tried to get him under control.

“Step back, sir!” one nurse commanded sharply.

I hesitated, refusing to let go, but the doctor shot me a firm look. “We need space. Let us work!”

Aria and I were both pulled away gently but forcefully. I resisted, my fists clenching, but Aria’s hand found mine, squeezing as tears streamed down her cheeks. The nurses guided us out, their movements brisk and unyielding.

And then—slam.

The door closed in our faces, shutting us out.

Through the small glass window, I could still see flashes of movement: hands pressing, wires adjusting, the doctor leaning over Liam. His cries had faded into muffled gasps, and each sound was a knife twisting deeper inside me.

I pressed my palm against the cold door, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. My son was in there, fighting for his life again, and I was powerless.

Beside me, Aria collapsed into a chair, her sobs breaking the sterile silence of the hallway.

And all I could do was stand there—helpless, furious, terrified—while strangers fought to pull my boy back from the edge.

The hours bled into one another, each second dragging like a weight against my chest. Aria’s hands trembled as they clutched mine, her face pale and weary as we sat outside the room where they worked on Liam. I couldn’t tell whose heartbeat I heard louder—hers or mine.

Finally, the door cracked open. The doctor stepped out, tugging off his gloves, his expression caught between calm professionalism and the heaviness of bad news.

“It’s complications after surgery,” he said at last, his voice even but firm, as though he had rehearsed those words many times before.

Aria immediately straightened, her eyes widening. “Complications?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Doctor, he—he can’t recognize me. He looked at me like I was a stranger. He doesn’t even know his own name.”

Her words trembled as if each one cut her deeper. Tears glossed her eyes as she clutched her chest. “What is happening to my son?” she asked, her voice shattering with the weight of a mother’s desperation.

The doctor took a slow breath, then gave a practiced nod. “It might be shock,” he explained softly. “Patients in Liam’s condition sometimes go into shock like this. It can distort memory, identity… even recognition. But don’t worry. We’ll monitor him. When he wakes again, we’ll run a new CT scan to determine what’s going on inside his head.”

The way he spoke—steady, measured—was meant to soothe, but I could see Aria wasn’t soothed at all. She pressed her hands to her mouth, sobbing quietly. The doctor placed a hand briefly on my shoulder. “Stay strong for him. Both of you.” Then he excused himself, leaving us alone in the long, suffocating hallway.

I turned to Aria and pulled her into my arms. “Listen to me,” I whispered against her hair. “He’s still our son. This… this is temporary. You’ll see. He’ll remember us. He’ll come back to us.”

She shook her head against my chest, her sobs muffled. “But Kael… he didn’t even look at me as his mother. He pushed me away.”

I gritted my teeth, my throat burning, but I forced myself to sound steady for her sake. “Then we’ll fight for him, Aria. We’ll remind him who we are, even if it takes a lifetime.”

When the nurses finally let us back into the room, the lights were dimmed, and the machines hummed steadily beside Liam’s bed. Aria collapsed into the chair beside him, her hand instantly finding his, her head resting on the edge of the mattress. Within minutes, exhaustion took her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.

But me… I couldn’t sleep. I stood near the window, the city lights casting long shadows across the floor. My eyes never left Liam. Every rise and fall of his chest, every twitch of his fingers, I guarded like a soldier at post.

My son. My blood. Even if he couldn’t see me as his father, I would stand here until he did.