CHAPTER 54 – The Breaking of Alexander Voss

Darkness. It was the first thing Alexander registered when he woke. The kind of darkness that weighed heavy, thick with the scent of damp concrete and blood. His own blood.

He was bound. Hands restrained behind him, feet shackled. The cold bite of metal dug into his wrists, unforgiving. His head throbbed, and when he tried to shift, pain ripped through his ribs. They were cracked—maybe broken. He let out a slow breath, steadying himself as much as possible.

Then he heard it.

The slow, deliberate sound of footsteps.

"Awake at last."

The voice sent a shiver through him. Not out of fear. But out of something deeper—something buried in years of rage and resentment.

His father.

Alexander lifted his head, blinking against the dim light as a figure stepped into view. The years had not softened the man. If anything, they had carved him into something even colder, sharper. Eyes like steel. A gaze that had never once held warmth for him.

"You're a difficult man to catch," his father mused, stopping just short of where Alexander sat. "But not impossible."

Alexander smirked, though the movement sent fresh pain lancing through his jaw. "Getting slow, old man. Took you long enough."

His father didn't react. Just studied him in that calculating way of his, as if measuring his worth. As if deciding whether he was salvageable.

"You disappoint me."

The words were spoken so simply, so effortlessly, yet they carried the weight of something final. Something absolute.

Alexander didn't flinch. "Good."

His father let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "You had potential, Alexander. You could have been great. You could have stood beside me." He crouched down, meeting Alexander's gaze with a look of quiet menace. "Instead, you chose to run. To betray your own blood."

Alexander's jaw clenched. "You put a hit on me."

His father tilted his head. "And yet, you survived. That should tell you something."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, his father straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. "I won't drag this out. You have a choice."

Alexander didn't move, but every muscle in his body coiled tight.

"Kill Carver," his father said simply. "Take your rightful place. Or die."

A bitter chuckle escaped Alexander's lips. "That's it? That's your big offer?"

His father's expression remained unreadable. "Carver is a cockroach. His time is over. If you end him, you will take control. You will become what you were meant to be."

Alexander shook his head. "I know you, old man. You don't want me at your side. You want to break me."

A small smile touched his father's lips. "I made you." He leaned in closer, voice dropping to something far more dangerous. "And if you won't be my son, you will be my mistake to erase."

Pain. That was all Alexander knew.

The blows came methodically, without hesitation. Not reckless, not born from anger—just precise, practiced brutality. His father didn't believe in wasted effort.

The guards did the dirty work. Fists slammed into his ribs, into his gut, cracking against bruised bones. A boot drove into his already shattered knee, sending fresh agony ripping through him. His breath came ragged, but he never screamed. He wouldn't give them that.

Minutes stretched into eternity. He didn't know how long it went on. His vision blurred, the edges darkening, but he refused to pass out. Not yet.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

His father's voice cut through the haze. "Enough."

The guards stepped back, leaving Alexander slumped against his restraints, blood dripping from his split lip onto the floor.

His father crouched beside him again, tilting his head as if studying something fascinating. "Still defiant."

Alexander spat blood at his feet. "Go to hell."

His father sighed, standing. "Carver will die, one way or another. If not by your hand, then by mine." He turned, starting toward the door. "You have twenty-four hours to decide. Make the right choice, Alexander."

The door shut behind him, leaving Alexander alone in the darkness once more.

But he wasn't broken.

Not yet.