Chapter 313: Shadows of the Past

The Emerald Grand Hotel was no longer a place of grandeur and luxury—it had turned into a battlefield. The scent of gunpowder and fear mixed with the lingering fragrance of expensive perfume. Screams still echoed, but Ochieng was unmoved.

He stood at the center of the chaos, his onyx-black eyes scanning the ballroom like a predator calculating his next move.

"Who dares disrupt my night?" His voice was calm, yet it carried a deadly weight.

The crimson carpets were now stained with shattered glass, reflecting the golden chandeliers that still swayed from the disturbance. A few injured guests groaned in pain, while others cowered behind overturned tables.

Felix was already ahead, leading a small group of elite bodyguards, each dressed in black suits with discreet earpieces, surrounding the exits. The shooter had vanished, but Ochieng knew better.

The enemy was still inside.

Before Ochieng could give further orders, Aria LeClair approached him, her red dress flowing like spilled wine.

Her smirk remained, but her blue eyes held something darker. "Looks like someone wants you dead, Ochieng. Again."

He chuckled. "They'll have to try harder."

Aria tilted her head. "You think this is just an assassination attempt? No. This is a warning."

Ochieng's jaw tightened. He hated games, and tonight, he was done playing.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw an unknown number flashing across the screen.

He answered.

"If you want the truth about your parents, come alone to the 88th floor."

The call ended.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Selena, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. "This could be a trap."

Ochieng glanced at her. "It probably is."

She crossed her arms. "Then why go?"

He smirked. "Because I don't fear traps. I set them."

Felix frowned. "Boss, at least let me—"

"No," Ochieng interrupted. "Stay here. Lock down the building. No one gets in or out."

Felix hesitated before nodding. "Understood."

The elevator ride to the 88th floor was eerily silent. As the doors slid open, Ochieng stepped out into a dimly lit hallway, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

At the far end, a single figure stood waiting.

It was an old man, dressed in a simple black robe, his silver hair tied back. His weathered face held wisdom, but his piercing gray eyes were sharp, filled with knowledge only a few possessed.

"Ochieng," the man said smoothly.

"Who are you?" Ochieng's voice was devoid of emotion.

The man smirked. "I go by many names. But tonight, you can call me The Silent Raven."

Ochieng's heart stopped for a fraction of a second.

This was the person who had sent the letter.

"You said you had answers," Ochieng said coldly. "Start talking."

The Silent Raven chuckled. "So impatient. Just like your father."

Ochieng's breath hitched.

"My father?"

The old man turned towards the window, looking down at the city. "Your father wasn't just a businessman, Ochieng. He was a leader of the underworld. One of the Eight Pillars of Power that secretly control this world. His death was no accident. He was betrayed."

Ochieng clenched his fists. A storm raged inside him.

"Betrayed by who?"

The old man finally turned back, his gaze heavy.

"Your uncle."

Ochieng's world froze.

His uncle? The man who had raised him after his parents' deaths? The man who had trained him, guided him, and taught him the art of survival?

He refused to believe it.

"Lies." His voice was dangerously low.

The Silent Raven sighed. "You already know it's true, don't you? You've always felt it. The way he kept secrets from you, the way he always pushed you away from looking deeper into your parents' past. Why do you think you were sent abroad all those years? Why do you think, despite being their son, you were kept away from their business empire?"

Ochieng's knuckles turned white from clenching his fists too hard.

Memories flooded his mind—his uncle's distant behavior, the half-truths, the way he never spoke of his father's enemies.

"Why?" Ochieng asked, his voice void of emotion.

The old man exhaled, looking at him with something that almost resembled pity. "Greed. Power. He wanted the throne. And to do that, he had to erase your father's entire bloodline—including you."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Ochieng's face. But there was no humor in it.

"So he failed."

The Silent Raven nodded. "For now."

Ochieng turned towards the window, looking at the city lights. His heart was no longer racing with anger. Instead, it was filled with something else.

Purpose.

"Where is he now?" Ochieng finally asked.

The old man smirked. "Waiting for you to come and claim what's yours."

Ochieng turned back, his eyes sharp like a blade. "Then let's not keep him waiting."