Rise Of Michael Jordan

Chapter 18

The house smelled faintly of antiseptic, the scent still clinging to Liam’s skin from the hospital. We had been discharged only a few days ago, and though the doctors assured us that Liam’s condition was stabilizing, their words were always wrapped with caution: “Make sure he comes for his check-ups… don’t miss a single appointment.” Those reminders echoed in my head as I stood by his bedroom door.

Liam’s breathing was steady now, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that almost felt like a victory song to me. For the first time in weeks, he was resting without pain etched across his face. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

I turned from him quietly and made my way toward the living room, where Aria sat on the couch. The exhaustion in her eyes was hidden beneath a forced smile, but I could see it. She had fought harder than anyone for Liam, and I respected her for that.

“I’ll be checking in on you both,” I told her, pausing near the doorway. My tone was calm but firm, the kind of tone that carried more promise than words could. “If there’s any issue—anything at all—please let me know immediately.”

She nodded, her hands folded tightly in her lap. But just as I turned to leave, her voice cut through the silence.

“Kael.”

I stopped. My hand lingered on the doorknob, and I looked back at her.

“You can… call anytime you like,” she said softly, her gaze flickering between the floor and me.

For a moment, I just stood there, caught off guard. Then I gave a small nod, my lips curving in the faintest smile. “I will.”

I stepped outside into the cool evening air. Relief weighed lighter on my chest than it had in weeks. Liam was okay, Aria was holding strong, and if I could push Darren into the position I’d been planning—leader of the subsidiaries—then my circle would finally be secure. With power and money locked into my hands, Milton would have no chance against me. For the first time, it felt like victory was close enough to touch.

But fate is cruel when it chooses its moments.

A car sped past me, too close, the wind slapping my face. Before I could react, its rear door swung open. A flash of steel cut across my vision, and searing pain exploded in my hand.

“s**t—!” I staggered back, clutching my bleeding palm. Warm blood streamed between my fingers, dripping onto the pavement.

The car screeched to a halt a few meters ahead. The night swallowed the sound of its tires, leaving only the thundering beat of my heart. The doors burst open, and shadows poured out like a flood.

One. Two. Three.

By the time I counted, there were fifteen of them. Fifteen men, each holding knives that glinted under the pale streetlights.

My breath came slow, deliberate, as I flexed my wounded hand. Pain was already spreading up my arm, but I forced myself to stand straighter, to meet them head-on.

Fifteen against one.

My mind was already calculating, already shifting into survival.

And the night had just begun.

The night air was heavy with the stench of smoke and city dust, but I barely noticed it. My hand dripped warm blood from the first s***h they’d carved into me, yet my mind was sharp, teeth gritted, rage burning through my veins. Fifteen of them stood before me, blades glinting under the streetlight.

I steadied my stance and growled, “Who sent you to me?”

Their leader, a tall man with a scar running down his jaw, spat on the ground and sneered.

“How dare you, Kael? You’ve messed with the wrong people. Coveting what isn’t yours comes with a price.”

My jaw clenched. One name rose like venom on my tongue.

“Was it Seraphine?”

The man’s grin widened. His men tensed, blades twitching in their hands.

“If it’s her, does it matter? You’ll die tonight either way.”

They came at me all at once—fifteen shadows moving like wolves closing in for the kill. The first swung for my throat; I ducked, caught his wrist, and drove my elbow into his nose. Blood sprayed across my arm as I tore the knife from his hand and rammed it into his gut.

Another blade nicked my ribs, hot pain ripping through me. I gritted my teeth, pivoted, and slammed my fist into his throat. He choked, dropped his weapon, and I buried it in his chest.

But they were skilled—trained killers. Their movements weren’t sloppy street brawls; they knew how to strike to end a man. Every s***h aimed for an artery, every thrust meant for the heart. My body was screaming, cuts piling up, but I didn’t let up. I couldn’t.

Steel clashed against steel as I blocked one strike with a stolen blade, spun, and kicked the attacker into the hood of the parked car. Another lunged for my back; I rolled, came up behind him, and slit his throat before he even realized he’d missed.

Blood coated the ground. My arms ached, my chest burned, but I kept moving—strike, twist, kill.

One by one, they fell. Their screams echoed down the empty street. Every move I made was instinct sharpened by survival. I wasn’t fighting for victory—I was fighting to live.

By the time the last two charged me, my shirt was torn and soaked crimson, my breath ragged. I let them come. At the last second, I sidestepped, dragged one into the path of the other’s blade, and buried my knife into the survivor’s chest. Both crumpled at my feet.

The only one left was the leader. His bravado was gone; his eyes were wide, legs stumbling back as he turned to run.

“No,” I hissed, charging after him.

He barely made it three steps before I caught him, slamming him against the car. His knife clattered to the ground as I pressed mine against his throat.

“Please—don’t!” he begged, trembling, blood from his men staining his boots. “Spare me! I was just following orders!”

I leaned close, my face inches from his, eyes cold.

“That’s your mistake. You thought I was prey.”

Before he could utter another word, I drove the blade deep into his chest and twisted, feeling his body jolt before going limp. I let him slide to the pavement, lifeless, his plea still echoing in the night.

My hands were drenched, my chest heaving. Fifteen men lay dead around me, their blades scattered like broken promises. My body was carved with wounds, but I was still standing. Alive.

Blood still clung to my skin, sticky against my shirt, my knuckles split open from the fight. Every step I took toward Seraphine’s house was heavy with rage, yet steady. I didn’t even flinch when the tall iron gates loomed in front of me, guarded by two men in black suits with their hands already resting on their weapons.

One of them stepped forward, his voice sharp.

“Who are you? Identify yourself.”

I didn’t slow. I didn’t even glance at him. My voice came out low, raw, and brutal.

“Where is Seraphine?”

The man’s brows knotted, and his partner scoffed.

“How dare a man like you mention our boss’s name? You must have a death wish.”

I stopped at last, lifting my gaze to meet theirs. Anger boiled in me, so thick it almost tasted metallic on my tongue. My voice cracked like a whip.

“I said I’m looking for Seraphine. Call her out—if you don’t want to die in my hands tonight.”

They hesitated. My body was still wet with blood, my eyes burning holes into theirs. Yet one of them found his courage—or his stupidity—and stepped forward, blocking my path.

“You think you can just barge in here, covered in blood, and I’ll open the door for you? At this hour? You’ve lost your damn mind.”

I leaned closer, close enough for him to see the blood drying on my cheek, close enough to smell his own breath falter. My words came out cold.

“Do you intend to die tonight?”

The man let out a sharp laugh, though I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“And who’s going to kill me? You?”

I twisted my fists slowly, tightening them into stone, preparing to strike—when a voice slid through the tense air.

“Let him in.”

It was Julien. Calm. Certain.

The guard snapped his head back, confused. “Sir—are you sure? He’s covered in blood. Is it even safe to let a man like him—”

Julien cut him off, his tone laced with a sarcasm sharp enough to cut.

“Only if you’re ready to die tonight should you try and challenge Kael. Now, step aside.”

The guard swallowed hard, his defiance draining away. They stepped back, silent now, leaving the path open.

I walked past them without a word, each footstep echoing in the stone-floored hall as I entered the house. The scent of expensive wine and polished wood clashed with the iron tang of blood still clinging to me.

Julien was waiting inside, standing tall, though his face betrayed a flicker of unease as I closed the distance between us.

“Where is Seraphine?” My voice was sharp, unforgiving.

Julien lifted his hands slightly, a gesture of peace.

“Kael… I know you’re angry right now. And you have every reason to be. But please—just exercise some patience.”

His words slid off me like water off steel. My chest rose and fell heavy, my jaw tightening.

“Where is she? Is she not home?”

He hesitated, then admitted quietly, “She’s inside.”

That was all I needed. I brushed past him, steps quick and unyielding, heading for the inner doors—when his voice broke behind me.

“Kael—wait!”

I paused, glancing back—and froze.

Julien was on his knees.

His head was bowed, hands pressed to the floor, shoulders trembling. The air shifted, even the guards at the door went silent as they watched him kneel before me.

His voice cracked, strained with something more than fear.

“I… I’m sorry, Kael.”

The words startled me.

He kept going, desperation tumbling out of him.

“I beg you… forgive me—for everything. For the way I treated your brother Darren. For the insults, the disrespect—I was wrong.” His voice broke, and his forehead touched the ground. “It won’t happen again. I swear it.”

I stood there, silent, my chest tightening as I listened.

Julien’s voice wavered as he continued, almost pleading like a man who had run out of pride.

“My wife and I—we are leaving next week. Traveling abroad. We’ll be gone, Kael. Just let this pass. I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again. Please…”

The words hung heavy in the room, his apology staining the air thicker than the blood on my clothes.

And for the first time since stepping through those gates, I realized—I wasn’t the only one who was afraid tonight.

I let Julien’s words hang in the silence for a long while. His forehead still pressed against the floor, his hands trembling like a man waiting for judgment. My body throbbed with pain, every cut burning, but my voice came out sharp and steady when I finally spoke.

“Then leave—before the month runs out.”

Julien lifted his head slightly, eyes wide, desperate.

“And hear me well,” I continued, my voice like steel scraping stone. “If such a thing ever happens again… I won’t just back out. I’ll finish it.”

The words landed heavy. I didn’t wait for his reply. I turned and walked away, blood still dripping down my hand, leaving a dark trail on the marble floor of Seraphine’s house.

Yes, I was strong. Stronger than most. But strength didn’t make me immortal. My body ached now more than it used to. Age reminded me that I was still human, and tonight, every wound screamed that truth.

By the time I reached the dorm, each step felt like dragging a mountain.

Then I saw her.

Mia.

She was pacing in front of the building, her steps quick, her hands wringing nervously. The moment her eyes caught mine, she stopped, and her voice broke out.

“Kael!”

I forced a smile onto my lips. Relief washed through me at the sight of her—then the world spun. My legs gave way. I hit the ground.

“Kael!” She rushed to me, kneeling, her hands frantically tapping my cheek, shaking me lightly. “Wake up! What happened to you? Why are you bleeding like this?”

Her voice cracked, filled with panic, but I couldn’t answer. My body was too weak, my chest too heavy. The last thing I saw was her face, pale with fear, before my eyes finally shut.

---

When I awoke again, the room was quiet. My room. My bed. The scent of plants hung in the air, earthy and strong. My shirt was gone, my wounds cleaned and covered—not with bandages, but with crushed leaves and herbs carefully pressed against my skin.

The door creaked open. Mia stepped in, holding a tray with a glass filled with some murky liquid.

I tried to sit, but pain shot through my body. My arms trembled with the effort.

“Don’t!” she cried, rushing forward to put the tray down. She pressed gently on my shoulder, forcing me back. “Don’t sit up. Don’t stress yourself.”

I frowned weakly. My throat was dry, but I managed to ask, “What is all this?”

Mia looked almost embarrassed but tried to stand tall. “I… I made some herbs for you. I don’t have money to buy proper medicine, so I used what I could find.” She gestured toward the leaves on my wounds. “Does it sting too much?”

I looked down at the green mess stuck to my cuts and shook my head faintly. “No… thank you for the care, but—”

“But what?” she snapped, cutting me off, her eyes sharp. “Are you going to scold me for saving your life? Hm? If I didn’t do this, Kael, you’d have bled yourself into the grave by now!”

Her words silenced me. My lips twitched, almost smiling despite the ache. “…Thank you.”

That softened her. A small smile broke across her face. She picked up the glass, lifted it toward me. “Good. Now drink this. It’ll help.”

I hesitated, then took a small sip. The taste hit my tongue like poison. Sour—so sour my whole face twisted. I gagged and spat it back out instantly.

“What the hell is this?!” I coughed.

Her eyes widened. “Oh—it’s huanglian su.”

I nearly choked again. “Huanglian su? That’s for people who can’t—” I grimaced, lowering my voice, “—defecate properly!”

Mia froze, staring at the cup, then smacked her forehead. “Oh no. You’re right!” Her face burned with embarrassment. “I thought it was dangshen! They look almost the same!”

I stared at her, horrified.

She immediately leaned forward, panicked. “Quick—Kael—spit it out! Spit all of it! Don’t swallow! Oh gods, what if you get stomach cramps?!” She was practically shaking me like a ragdoll. “Say something! Did you swallow it?!”

I wiped my mouth weakly, glaring at her between coughs. “…There’s nothing in my mouth anymore.”

Mia’s face turned redder, her lips pressed together as if she wanted to laugh but couldn’t. “I—I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll prepare another one.”

I groaned and fell back onto the pillow. “Just don’t poison me this time.”