Volume 6: The Flame of Vengeance
Synopsis: Jack has uncovered crucial evidence against Richard's criminal empire and begins meticulously planning his revenge. He not only intends to reclaim everything that was taken from him but also to send every betrayer and tormentor straight into hell.
Chapter 11: The Puppeteer
John's advice had been like a beacon in the darkness, guiding Jack through uncertainty. No longer content with the fleeting victory of bringing down Richard, he now turned his focus toward the true enemy—the shadowy figure pulling the strings behind the scenes. John was right. Richard was just a pawn. The real mastermind remained hidden, watching everything unfold from the shadows.
Returning to Kevin's basement—a room cluttered with computers and surveillance equipment—Jack found Kevin typing furiously at the keyboard, the rhythmic clatter filling the air.
"Any new developments?" Jack asked as he grabbed a cold cup of coffee from the desk and downed it in one gulp.
Kevin swiveled in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. "I've got Richard's accounts completely under surveillance. Since the SEC investigation started, he's gone quiet—almost no large financial movements. He knows he's being watched."
"That's expected," Jack replied, walking over to the whiteboard pinned to the wall. It was covered with notes, names, and connections to Richard's network. "Richard is just covering his tracks. The real money-laundering channels are buried deeper. If we want to destroy this entire operation, we need to find the man behind him."
"It's easier said than done," Kevin shrugged. "Richard is careful by nature. Whoever is pulling his strings must be even more elusive. We don't have any leads yet."
Jack frowned, knowing Kevin was right. But giving up wasn't an option. He had to find a way in, to uncover the identity of the unseen puppeteer lurking in the dark.
He stared at the board, his mind racing through possibilities. Richard was greedy, yes—but he wasn't stupid. He wouldn't risk so much unless the rewards were enormous. So what did his benefactor offer? Money? Power? Or something far more valuable?
Suddenly, Jack's gaze locked onto a name: Alexander Clayton. Founder and CEO of Clayton Capital, a Wall Street legend—and someone Richard had always tried desperately to impress.
"Kevin," Jack pointed at the name, "dig into Alexander Clayton—his funding sources, his connections, recent activities. I think he might be the one we're looking for."
Kevin looked surprised. "Clayton? That's a big name. What makes you think he's involved with someone like Richard?"
"Wall Street doesn't run on integrity," Jack said coldly. "It thrives on deception. Don't let his reputation fool you. Start digging—I guarantee you'll find something worth seeing."
Kevin nodded, trusting Jack's instincts. He immediately turned back to the screen and began searching for information on Alexander Clayton.
Over the next few days, Jack and Kevin worked tirelessly to uncover the truth. Kevin used his hacking skills to infiltrate internal systems within Clayton Capital, extracting confidential documents and data. Meanwhile, Jack leveraged his old contacts across the city to gather intel on Clayton's dealings.
Soon, they began noticing red flags. Clayton Capital's financial structure was convoluted, filled with legal investments—but also untraceable inflows of massive sums. Clayton himself was frequently seen at exclusive clubs and private parties, often in the company of politicians and underworld figures.
"I think we've got our guy," Kevin said excitedly, handing Jack a file. "This is one of Clayton's latest investments—an offshore deal worth hundreds of millions. But there's almost no traceable record of where the money actually went."
Jack flipped through the document. On the surface, it appeared to be nothing more than standard financial reports and transaction logs. But he spotted a pattern—a trail leading to a trust fund based in Bermuda.
"Bermuda?" Jack narrowed his eyes. "That's not just a tax haven. That's a money-laundering paradise."
"Exactly," Kevin confirmed. "I traced the ownership of that fund—it leads directly back to Alexander Clayton."
Jack took a deep breath. This was it. The missing link. Alexander Clayton was the real force behind Richard's empire.
"What do we do now?" Kevin asked.
Jack paused thoughtfully before answering. "We need proof—concrete evidence of Clayton's laundering operations. Only then can we bring him down."
But how? Clayton was clever. He wouldn't leave obvious traces.
"We could go through Richard," Kevin suggested. "He's Clayton's pawn. He must know some inside details. If we can get him to talk, we might get what we need."
Jack nodded. "Good idea. But Richard's locked up. Getting close won't be easy."
"I'll handle it," Jack said firmly. "No matter what it takes, I will get the evidence on Clayton. And I will see him brought to justice."
Jack left the basement and walked alone through the streets of New York. Night had fallen, lights flickering across the skyline, but the city's noise felt distant—as if he were standing outside the world itself.
Looking up at the stars, he reminded himself that vengeance was a long road. One paved with pain, danger, and sacrifice. But he would walk it. To the end.
The next day, Jack sought out Isabella. Ever since Emily's betrayal, she had carried a heavy sense of guilt. She wanted to help Jack in any way she could.
"Isabella," Jack said, "I need your help."
"Tell me what you need," she replied.
"I need access to Richard. I want to arrange a prison visit."
She looked surprised. "A prison visit? That's not simple. Richard is a high-profile suspect. Getting near him won't be easy."
"I know," Jack said. "But I have to try. I need to extract some information about Alexander Clayton."
After a pause, Isabella nodded. "Alright. I'll do my best to arrange it. But I can't promise anything."
Thanks to Isabella's efforts, Jack finally secured a visit. Dressed in plain clothes, he arrived at the federal detention center in Lower Manhattan.
When he entered the visiting room and saw Richard sitting behind the glass, he barely recognized him. The once-arrogant Wall Street titan now looked broken—unshaven, hollow-eyed, and utterly defeated.
"Jack?" Richard looked shocked. "What are you doing here? To mock me?"
Jack didn't answer. He simply stared.
"You must be enjoying this," Richard muttered. "Seeing me fall apart."
Jack shook his head. "I'm not here to laugh at you. I'm here to offer you a chance."
"A chance?" Richard scoffed. "What chance do I have? I'm finished."
"You're wrong," Jack said calmly. "You still have options. Help me, and I can help reduce your sentence."
Richard eyed him suspiciously. "Why would you help me? Aren't you the one who wants me destroyed?"
"I hate you," Jack admitted. "But I hate the man who put you in front of me even more. You're just a pawn, Richard. The real architect of my downfall… is Alexander Clayton."
For the first time, Richard's expression changed—shock, fear, realization.
"How… how do you know that?" His voice trembled.
"I know more than you think," Jack replied. "You're out of moves, Richard. If you don't want to be Clayton's scapegoat, you need to work with me."
Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, Richard exhaled.
"What do you want from me?" he asked.
Jack smiled faintly. "Everything. I want the full story on Alexander Clayton—his laundering network, his crimes, his secret deals. All of it."
Richard closed his eyes. He knew his life was about to change forever.
"Fine," he whispered. "I'll tell you everything. I'm done working for Clayton. He's a monster. And he will destroy everything."
Jack leaned back, a quiet fire igniting in his chest.
This was the turning point.
Now, all he needed was the truth from Richard's lips.
And then, Alexander Clayton—the hidden puppeteer—would burn.