The Cause

The rain fell in a steady rhythm against the city streets, casting a thin sheen over the pavement. In a dimly lit café on the outskirts of Black Hollow, Maya Raines sat across from an old man whose hands trembled as he lifted his coffee cup.

His name was Thomas Lyle, a retired miner who had spent decades digging through the earth long before Silas Kane became a legend. His eyes, clouded with age still held memories of the past. Memories that could bring the empire down. "You're asking about Dirt Boy?" Thomas muttered, shaking his head. "Haven't heard that name in a long time."

Maya leaned in, voice low. "You knew him when he was just Silas, before he became Kane."

The old man exhaled, staring into his cup. "Knew him? Hell, I watched that boy become what he is today." He glanced at the door, uneasy. "But talking about Kane… that's dangerous."

Maya slid a recorder onto the table. "Tell me what you know. I'll make sure people hear the truth." Thomas sighed. "Truth don't matter much to men like him. But if you really want to know, then listen close."

He placed the cup down and laced his fingers together. "Silas Kane wasn't born powerful. He was born hungry."

Black Hollow had never been a town for the rich. It was a place of dirt roads, broken families, and mines that swallowed men whole. Silas Kane. Back then, just Silas Greeley was nobody. The son of a poor woman who scrubbed floors for a living. A boy with patched-up clothes and bruises from fights he didn't always win.

"They used to laugh at him," Thomas said, voice distant. "Called him Dirt Boy. Because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wash the filth off himself. He was a scrawny kid. Quiet. But there was something behind those eyes, something dark."

Maya listened intently, scribbling notes. "The other boys… they were cruel. Especially Garrett Lyle, my own damn son." Thomas's voice cracked with guilt. "They tormented him. Stole his food. Broke his things. I should've stopped it. Maybe then…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"But Silas, he didn't just take it. One day, he snapped. Put my boy in the dirt so bad he needed stitches. That's when we all saw it. That boy wasn't weak. He was just waiting." Maya frowned. "Waiting for what?" Thomas met her gaze. "For his time to come."

After his mother died, something in Silas changed. He left Black Hollow, but he didn't leave empty-handed.

"He stole," Thomas whispered. "No one knows exactly how, but when he left town, he had money. Real money. Some say he conned a prospector. Others say he killed for it. But one thing's for sure, he wasn't poor no more."

Maya's grip tightened on her pen. "And then?"Then he came back. Years later. Different."

Thomas's fingers tapped against the table. "By then, he wasn't Dirt Boy. He was Silas Kane. And when he walked back into Black Hollow, he didn't come alone. He had men. Guns. Money." Maya swallowed hard. "What did he do?"

Thomas leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "He bought the mines. Every last one of them. And then he bled them dry. The town, his hometown became nothing but a gold empire built on the backs of men who once spat on him."

Maya's chest tightened. "And the people who crossed him?" Thomas's face paled. "They disappeared." Silence settled between them. Maya knew what that meant. She turned off the recorder and slid it into her pocket. "Thank you, Thomas. This story needs to be told."

But the old man shook his head. "You think the truth will stop him?" Maya stood. "It has to start somewhere." As she walked toward the door, Thomas called after her. "Be careful, girl. You're digging in graves that ain't meant to be disturbed."

Hours later, Silas Kane sat in his estate, listening to Jonas Wren deliver the news.

"Maya Raines was in Black Hollow today," Jonas said. "Talking to old miners. Lyle, for one." Silas swirled his whiskey glass. "And?"She's asking questions about your past."

Silas's grip tightened around the glass. "She's a journalist, Jonas. It's what they do." Jonas hesitated. "She's not like the others. She's persistent. And she's already found people willing to talk."

Silas stared into the fire. Black Hollow was supposed to be forgotten. It was a past he had erased. "I want her silenced," he said, his voice dangerously soft. Jonas nodded. "I'll handle it."

But Silas raised a hand. "No. Not yet. If she vanishes, people will ask questions. And Morrow will start looking even harder." Jonas crossed his arms. "Then what do you want to do?" Silas took a slow sip of his drink. "I want her to understand who she's dealing with."

Later that night, Maya Raines stepped into her apartment, tossing her bag onto the couch. She had just begun unbuttoning her coat when she noticed it. The window was open.

Her breath caught in her throat. She never left it open. The air inside was still, but something felt wrong.

Slowly, she reached into her bag, fingers wrapping around the pepper spray she always carried. Then she saw it. A single object was placed neatly on her kitchen counter. A gold coin. Beside it, a handwritten note. "You're digging too deep. Stop now. Or be buried."

Maya's pulse thundered in her ears. She took a shaky step back, scanning the shadows. A warning. Not a threat, a promise. Her instincts screamed at her to leave but she forced herself to stay. If she ran now, she was letting them win.

Instead, she pulled out her phone, snapped a picture of the note and the coin and dialed a number.

After two rings, Elias Morrow answered. "Maya?" His voice was groggy as if she had woken him up. "They were in my apartment," she said, keeping her voice steady. "They left a gold coin and a note telling me to stop." Silence. Then, a curse. "Are you hurt?"

"No. But they were here, Elias. This isn't just intimidation, they're watching me." Morrow exhaled sharply. "Listen to me. Lock your doors, check your security cams and don't go anywhere alone. I'll send someone to watch your place."

Maya swallowed. She hated feeling like a victim but this was Silas Kane she was dealing with. "I'm not backing down," she said. "I know," Morrow replied. "Neither am I." She hung up and sat on the couch, gripping the gold coin tightly.

If Silas Kane thought he could scare her into silence, he was wrong. But as she sat in the dim glow of her apartment, staring at the shadows that seemed to stretch toward her, she realized one thing.

She had just declared war on a ghost. And ghosts didn't like being hunted. The estate was quiet at this hour, the world beyond its walls swallowed by darkness. Silas Kane stood in his private study, the faint glow of the city reflecting in the whiskey glass he held.

Jonas Wren sat across from him, waiting for a reaction. "She called Morrow," Jonas said. "As expected," Silas smirked. "And what did our dear governor do?" "Sent someone to watch her apartment. He's playing protective hero."

Silas took a slow sip of whiskey. "Good. Let him." Jonas raised an eyebrow. "You're not worried?"Worried?" Silas chuckled. "Jonas, I've survived wars, betrayals and fools who thought they could challenge me. A journalist and a politician? They're just another problem to solve."

Jonas leaned forward. "Morrow's pushing harder. The investigation is gaining traction. You know he won't stop unless we make him stop."

Silas swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Not yet. Pressure is a beautiful thing, Jonas. Apply too much too soon and you break something before you learn its true limits." Jonas gave a slow nod. "And if they don't stop?"

Silas's expression darkened. "Then we remind them that gold isn't just a symbol of power." He set his glass down with a quiet clink. "It's a weapon."

Morrow barely slept that night. His mind was racing, piecing together every move Kane had made so far. By the time dawn broke, he had made his decision.

In his office, surrounded by stacks of reports and files, he picked up the phone and called his head of security, Damian Holt. "We need to move," Morrow said as soon as Holt answered. "Kane's men are watching Maya. That means he knows we're getting close."

Holt, a former military officer, didn't hesitate. "What do you need?"We push back. Publicly." Holt's pause was brief. "That means war." Morrow's grip tightened around the phone. "Then war it is." That afternoon, he held a press conference.

Standing behind a podium, cameras flashing in his face, Morrow spoke Kane's name out loud for the first time. "There is a man in this country who believes he is untouchable. A man who has stolen from the people and who has built his empire on corruption and fear. That ends today."

The room erupted in murmurs. Journalists scribbled notes. Camera lenses zoomed in. Morrow leaned forward, voice steady. "I am launching a full-scale investigation into the illegal gold trade. And I promise you, Silas Kane will answer for his crimes."

The world had just heard his declaration of war. Now, he had to survive it.