Chapter 46: Victor's Final Play

Tension permeated the air within the holding cell, the kind that hung to the walls and made every breath feel weighty than the next. Sitting in the corner, Victor felt harsh shadows on his face from the low, merciless light. His suit vanished, replaced with the normal jail uniform, but his stubborn sneer remained absent. During the chilly, quiet hours following his detention, he had developed a scheme—a last act of retribution.

Though Victor was in a cage, his influence went beyond the concrete barriers. Over years, he had developed relationships with men and women who owed him favors or dreaded what he would expose about them. And from that bleak jail, he sent the command using a phone belonging to an accomplice during a fleeting period of unguarded monitoring. He started his slander campaign against Aidan with one message.

The headlines were nasty the following morning.

"Dark Secrets of Aidan Pierce's Past Uncovered,"

"Scandalous Exile: What Aidan Pierce Didn's Not Want You Know?"

"Aidan Pierce: The Empire's New Face or a New Era of Deceit?"

Sitting in his office, Aidan turned over the papers and felt a shiver run down his spine. Every headline was more aggressive than the one before it, a set of stabbings aimed to erode public confidence. Leaching carefully chosen materials, Victor's allies created a picture of a man lost in ethically dubious friendships, interaction with underworld leaders, and whispers of unverified but devastating charges. While some of the papers contained kernels of truth twisted into a terrible weapon against him, others were obvious frauds.

Marcus came into the room looking glum. Aidan, the news is all over. They are calling you everything from a scheming power-hungry prodigal son.

Aidan clenched his fists and hardened his jaw. Victor is desperately needy. Knowing he is losing everything, he tries to pull me down with him.

Marcus shook his head, fury blazing in his eyes. "The press is ravenous over it. People are beginning to probe issues. Investors are contacting one other, wondering whether they ought to be concerned. He wants you to present yourself as cut from the same fabric as he is.

Aidan steadied himself by inhaling slowly. "then it's time I approach him straight forwardly. Unless I stop him, he is not going to stop.

As Aidan entered the prison, the gates loomed ahead, his movements deliberate and his face harsh. He arrived not to negotiate or to argue. Here he was meant to terminate the games. The guards sensed the stress flowing from him as he was guided down the twisting hallways. Their hesitant looks reflected this.

Victor's cell's door slid open, and Aidan entered; metal bars clanking shut behind him. Rising, Victor gazed at Aidan and caught a flash of gratification in his eyes. His visage turned into a haughtily smiling one.

Victor drew back against the wall, sounding as though he were lounging in a boardroom rather than a cage. "I see you came to see your forsaken, poor uncle."

Aidan turned aside the taunting, his eyes steely and uncompromising. "I come to inform you your slander campaign is useless. None are falling for your falsehoods, Victor. People are aware of your nature.

Victor laughed a hollow, mirthless sound. "Is that your perspective? You, Aidan, are naive. People want drama, gossip; they want not heroes. They will believe anything that fits their taste, and I have presented them a feast.

Aidan tightened his jaw and closed his fists. Victor, you're done. You can leak any bit of half-truth and falsehood you wish. It won't change the things you did—the lives you damaged, the individuals you profite from.

Victor had dark, sinister glows in his eyes. But Aidan, you overlook—I know what you were up to all those years in exile. The people you hung around, the deals you struck to survive. You believe the public will not be interested in that?

Aidan stood firm, his face unvarnished. "You assume I find your twisted stories important? Victor, you have no idea that people already know the worst about you. And so be it should they pick up a few facts about me. I did not kill fellow supporters. I did not hold innocent people captive to guard my riches or control families.

Victor's sneer stopped momentarily, a flutter of doubt across his features. But he swiftly covered it with a mocking tone. You seem so self-righteous. Continually believing you are superior to me. Ultimately, though, you returned for the same thing I had in mind—power.

Aidan moved in front of him, his voice low and sharp. "The difference is that I returned to fix what you damaged. Treating people as pawns in your sick games, you carried authority like a weapon.

Victor chuckled cruelly, while his eyes showed a flash of wrath. "Spare me Aidan, the moral discourse. You believe this high ground will rescue you?

Aidan reached under his coat and drew out a little packet, opening it to show pictures, bank records, signed statements from former Victor employees—people who had suffered under his command, lost family, livelihoods, everything they cared about because of him. Aidan dumped the folder across Victor's lap.

" Victor, these are your crimes. Actual crimes, not frauds. Proof of lives destroyed, of dangers you brought about, of friends you turned on.

Victor's hands tightened around the folder, his face white as he realized the terrible contents. He looked up, rage flaring in his eyes. "Where did you come upon this?"

"From people who once trusted you, people who now want nothing more than to see you rot in this cell," Aidan said angrily. "They are ready to testify, to share all you accomplished behind closed doors. Victor, your last play came back down. Though you can try to alter my past, you will never be free from your own.

Victor dropped the folder on the ground, his calm breaking. You consider yourself to have won? With one word, I could wipe you.

Aidan lowered his voice and approached more closely. You have run out of moves. The globe is aware of your identity. And every time you try to drag me down, I will make sure the world witnesses more of your work. You have no hiding places now.

Victor seemed actually startled for the first time. The flutter of terror replaced the arrogant arrogance that had been his armor. Alone, really alone, his network of power and influence was ripped beyond repair. He looked at Aidan's face for any hint of charity but saw none.

Though his voice lacked customary fire, Victor spat, "You... you're just like your father." "Always believing you surpass all others. But power, like it did him, will corrupt you.

Aidan became depressed, a flash of the life Victor may have had if he had chosen loyalty and family before greed and control. "My father thought people were important. That was his strength, Aidan answered. You tried to break that strength, but all you did was let me know what actual power is.

Slumping back against the wall, Victor was a defeated figure, his awareness of his collapse weighing over him. His last card had come back short.

Aidan turned to go, and Victor cried out, despair pouring into his voice. "Aidan, this city, this empire is brutal. You would witness that one day.

Aidan stopped, turning one last time. Maybe. But I'll be sure it's one in which individuals like you have no place.

He left, the sound of the cell door banging shut trailing behind. As he passed, the guards nodded to him, their faces mirroring a respect for the man who had toppled a despot.

Marcus stood outside, his face tight yet hopeful. "How did it go?" he inquired.

Aidan nodded in a little manner. "It is finished. He has run out of moves.

Marcus let out a weightlifting from his shoulders exhale. "Good. Better than the legacy he left behind, the city deserves.

Aidan gazed out at the skyline and at last peace descended upon him. He was calm for the first time since he had come back. Victor's power vanished, his legacy reduced to a warning story of greed and corruption.

Aidan closed off himself as they left the jail. He was aware, meanwhile, that his task was only starting.