Lord Of The Round Table

Chapter 3

Five men storm in. Big arms. Hard faces. Metal rods in hands. Eyes take scene fast — Johnson stand. Amanda behind him. Alexander… bleeding on floor.

Three of men move fast when see Alexander try get up.

Rod hit back. Pain explode spine.

Alexander cry out. Body fall forward. Another blow hit shoulder. Third strike ribs. Inside twist, burn. Breathing hard.

“Boss… you okay?” one man ask, look Johnson.

Johnson wipe mouth corner. Look furious.

“Me okay?” he snap. “Why late? You let this rat touch me?”

Men lower head fast.

“Sorry… boss.”

Alexander try lift himself again. Hands shake on floor.

Boot slam side. Push him down.

“Boss,” one man nudge him shoe tip. “What do with him? Make pay?”

Johnson stare Alexander long second. Face angry. Then… full contempt.

“I was going,” he say cool. “But… I no want blood dirty place. Throw him out. Sick see his face.”

Like he own house. Like Alexander never live here.

Alexander force up again. Body sway. Vision blur. Refuse stay down.

Rod hit back knee. Crash floor again.

“Move!” one man bark. Grab collar.

“Get him out. Now,” Johnson order.

“Yes, boss.”

Two men grab Alexander. One each side. Feet drag floor. Pull him stairs.

“You… bastards…” Alexander groan. Voice raw.

Johnson laugh. Slow. Mocking.

“Don’t worry Amanda,” he call. “I take care her tonight.”

Alexander turn little. See Amanda. Step close Johnson again. Head on chest. Comfort? Maybe. Nothing happen? Like he not here. Like her husband no drag like garbage.

Sight burn more than rod, boot, floor.

Men shove him down staircase. He stumble. Almost fall headfirst.

Reach front door. Shirt tear. Lip split. Body shake. Pain everywhere.

Johnson men… they throw him out street like garbage. No mercy.

Concrete cold under hands. He try stand. Night air cut through torn shirt. Street quiet. Only far cars. Sometimes dog bark.

Amanda… She choose family? Or choose herself? She leave him… on their anniversary.

Chest ache. Not just bruises. Heart heavy. Wish he no take fall for her. One month… cell… for what? Nothing.

“Whiskey,” he mutter to bartender.

Woman nod. Pour glass. Liquid gold swirl. Light catch it. He drink fast. Try swallow burn taste. Think maybe… memory go away.

But… no. Memory stay.

Every sip… bring it back. Her voice. Lean on Johnson. Roses crushed on concrete. Bed. Apartment.

He try listen music. Soft. Slow. Melodic. Recognize it… Amanda favorite song.

It twist knife more. Memory flood mind. Laughter. Late talk. Quiet kiss.

And… pregnancy.

Pain burn deeper. Heart ache. Mind spin.

Thought burn hotter than any punch hit him. Her child… his rival child.

He reach for another glass. Maybe alcohol numb pain. Maybe help night pass.

Then… hand grab glass before touch.

“Hey… you.”

Alexander look up fast. Frown. Body tense.

Stranger grip firm. Never let go.

“Who… who you?” he demand. Voice rough. Eyes jump from hand to man.

Alexander freeze. Hand still on empty glass. Eyes scan stranger.

First… he want lash out. Anger. Pain. Betrayal. All scream inside. But then… he see them. Twelve men. Big. Black suit. Silent. Strong. Authority. Stand behind stranger.

Weight… heavy in chest. Rage dull. Only… disbelief.

Bar neon light flash. Music soft. People talk. But man and men… eclipse all.

Stranger remove glasses slow. Bow little.

“I’m sorry, young master,” he say.

Words hit Alexander like hammer. Eyes wide.

“No… it can’t be…”

“Mr. Philips Stone?” Alexander stutter. Voice break. Balance fail. Stumble over bar stool he sit.

Face… he recognize immediately.

Stone face calm. Almost… unreadable. But power he carry make Alexander neck hair rise.

Twelve men behind him bow same time. Silent. Respect. Alexander never see this in life.

Ten years… ten long years. Since last see Stone. Since father throw him out castle. For crime… he never do.

Memory claw chest. Cold nights. Hunger. Endless streets. City… was home.

“Call me Stone, my noble young master,” man say soft. But weight in words. Heavy. “Your father… Lord Sebastian Gates… he desperate see you.”

Alexander mouth dry. Heart spin. Surprise. Disbelief. Anger… all together.

“Why… why he look for me?” he demand. Voice shake. “I think he hate me! Ten years! Ten years suffering streets because he hate me! Why… why now?”

Stone face soft little. But body… still strong, posture never move.

“Believe me, young master,” he step closer. “We searched everywhere for nine years. Your father… he taught you innocently. That… realization breaks him. He now forgives himself. He does not forgive injustice he does. Now… he wants to make it right.”

“And… find you no easy task too, young master,” Stone continued. Voice calm, but heavy. “Why did you leave M City? Why change names?”

Alexander fist clench tight. Anger… humiliation… betrayal… raw burn again.

“I… I was angry at everyone,” he say. Voice rough, almost break. “Nobody trusts me… not even father. I never want… anyone to find me.”

Stone nod slow. Understanding. But say nothing. Eyes heavy… like man see too many young master lost by own pride.

“I very sorry, young master,” Stone say finally. “To make up years you spend outside family… your father want you return. He want you take over family business. And more… he want you become Lord of Round Table… instead him.”

Alexander freeze.

“The… Round Table?” Mouth open. Eyes wide. Disbelief hit him.

Stone smile little. “Yes, young master. Round Table. Most powerful… most influential group in country. They control business. Politics. Even government… bend will to them. Anyone sit on throne… become most powerful man. More than president.”

Alexander swallow hard. Heart beat fast.

“You… saying… my father… Lord of Round Table?”

Stone nod. “Yes. He is. Even before you born. Round Table ruled by your family long time. Bloodline… always hold power.”

Alexander's mind spins. Ten years ago… boy with nothing. Only dreams. Only anger. Never imagine… families have this power.

“But… Why did he step down? Father… is he alright?”

Stone sighs softly. “He alright, young master. But the time has come. You… heir. Next Lord Round Table. Castle… everyone… waiting for your return.”

After saying that, Stone reached the coat pocket. Take black card. Hand it Alexander. Sleek. Shiny. Important.

Alexander stare card. Blink, disbelief.

“What… what is this?” Voice shakes a little.

Stone face calm. Almost… clinical. No emotion.

“It small gift from your father, Lord Sebastian Gates. Premium bank card. Give you control… $10 billion cash. $15 billion assets. All under your name… Prince Gates.”

Alexander jaw drop.

“$10 billion?” Words barely leave lips. Eyes wide. Almost hurt… too big number.

He turn card in hand. Small card… but hold so much power? Never see money like this. Never imagine such wealth.

Slow smile spread face. Incredible. Can’t believe.

Stone straighten. Take another card. Smaller. Simple.

“This mine, young master,” he say. “When ready meet father, call me. I come myself pick you up.”

He and twelve guards bow deep. Movements perfect. Respect clear.

Then… they turn. Leave. Door click. Silence heavy.

Alexander stare card. Heart still beat fast. Mind spin. World feel different now.

Hours later… Alexander wake. Slump over bar stool. Empty bottles everywhere on table.

He blink. Head throb.

“Was… was I dream?” he mutter, rub temple.

Then… eyes fall on black card on table. Edge shine in dim bar light.

He look around. Female bartender… some people… stare. Eyes big, surprised.

Alexander lips curve. Slow smile. Genuine smile.

No dream.

This real.

For first time in years… world tilt little in his favor.

Night air… no more cold.

City lights… no more far, distant.

He hold black card in hand. Feel it. Weight of power. Weight of destiny. Weight of future… never imagine before.

Future… he is powerless.

Future… he can rise again.

Alexander smiled. Big smile. Strong smile.

This time… he was not broken.