Chapter 14
885 Words
Chapter 14: Old Wounds
DAMIEN
That had been the most infuriating discovery of all. The man I'd spent my life planning to destroy was essentially innocent of his family's crimes. Spoiled and privileged, yes, but not evil. Not like his parents had been.
His parents, who had framed my mother and father for financial crimes they didn't commit.
His parents, who had stood by while my family was destroyed by scandal and legal battles.
His parents, who had never faced consequences for their actions because they'd been too wealthy, too connected, too protected by the system they'd helped create.
They'd died in that car accident before I could make them pay. But their son remained.
And the sins of the fathers...
I walked to my desk and picked up the photograph I kept there, the one reminder of what I'd lost and why I'd dedicated my life to revenge.
Two families at a company picnic, maybe twenty years ago. My parents, Richard and Elena Carter, standing beside James and Patricia Snow. Everyone was laughing, the adults holding drinks while their children played nearby.
Three-year-old me, already serious and watchful even then, was holding a crying toddler—Alex Snow, probably upset about something trivial the way children always were.
The irony of that image had sustained me through some very dark times. Even as a child, I'd been protecting Alex Snow. If only I'd known what his family would do to mine.
My parents had been the Snows' business partners and closest friends. They'd trusted James and Patricia completely, which had made it easy for the Snows to pin their financial crimes on the Carters when investigators started asking questions.
Embezzlement. Tax evasion. Money laundering. The evidence had been planted expertly, and by the time my parents realized what was happening, it was too late.
They'd lost everything. Their business, their reputation, their freedom. My father had died of a heart attack during the trial, the stress and shame literally killing him. My mother had lasted two more years before cancer claimed her, though I'd always believed it was really a broken heart.
I'd been eighteen, suddenly alone in the world with nothing but my family's gifts and an burning need for justice.
The Snows company stockholders had attended both funerals, playing the role of grieving friends who couldn't believe their dear partners had been living double lives. James Snow had even offered to pay for my college education, a gesture of charity that had made me sick to my stomach.
I'd taken the money anyway. And I'd used their resources to become exactly what I needed to be to destroy them.
The bourbon burned as I finished it, but not as much as the memories always did.
A soft knock interrupted my brooding. Julian entered carrying a tablet, his expression grim.
"You're not going to like this, sir."
"Tell me."
"Marcus Holloway has been receiving investment opportunities related to Yggdrasil Group subsidiaries for the past six months. His assistant has been declining them, but someone's been very persistent about getting him involved."
The pieces clicked together in my mind like a weapon being assembled.
"Someone wanted him at that party tonight," I said. "Someone who knew there would be an attack."
"It gets worse," Julian continued. "I pulled security footage from the estate. Watch this."
He showed me tablet footage of the attack, focusing on Marcus Holloway's behavior during the firefight. The man moved like someone with combat training, his reactions too quick and precise for a civilian investor.
But that wasn't what made my blood run cold.
"Freeze it there," I ordered, pointing at a moment when Holloway turned toward the camera.
Julian paused the video, and I stared at the face on the screen. Something about it was wrong, subtly off in a way I couldn't immediately identify.
"Run facial recognition," I said quietly.
"Already did. It comes back as Marcus Holloway, but..." Julian hesitated. "The bone structure is perfect, but there are micro-inconsistencies in the tissue depth and muscle definition. Almost like someone was wearing an incredibly sophisticated prosthetic mask."
Or like someone was using abilities that shouldn't exist outside of my own bloodline.
"Sir? What are you thinking?"
I was thinking that my instinct to protect "Marcus Holloway" made a lot more sense if he wasn't actually Marcus Holloway.
I was thinking that Alex Snow might have inherited more from his family than just money and privilege.
And I was thinking that my fifteen-year plan had just become a lot more complicated.
"Double the search parameters for Alex Snow," I ordered. "And Julian? Start looking into reports of unusual abilities or enhanced humans. Corporate labs, government programs, anything that might explain what we just saw."
"Sir?"
I looked at the photograph again, at the image of myself protecting a crying Alex Snow when we were both children.
"I think our missing heir might be closer than we realized."
And if I was right, if Alex Snow had somehow developed abilities that matched or exceeded my own, then everything I thought I knew about this game was about to change.
The question was: did that make him a more dangerous enemy, or the key to uncovering an even larger conspiracy?
Either way, I needed to find him before someone else did.
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