7: Peril at Every Turn
Summary: Jack begins investigating the mysterious investor and discovers that this individual is a highly influential figure on Wall Street, connected to numerous political and business elites.
Chapter 4: The Mysterious Investor
Jack left Rat's shop, the strange smell of old wood and spices still clinging to his clothes. The weight of the supplies in his bag gave him some comfort—food, medicine, something real—but heavier still was the information Rat had given him about the "mysterious investor." Richard—the worthless pawn he was—could never have gotten this far on his own. There had to be someone behind him. And now it was clear: someone powerful. Someone even Rat feared.
He pulled his worn jacket tighter around himself, but the cold still seeped through. Isabella's wounds needed better care than this. He couldn't afford to waste time. Finding a secure hideout was now more urgent than ever.
He moved swiftly through the night streets, the words mysterious investor circling endlessly in his mind. Who was he? Why help Richard? What kind of power could he offer? A thousand unanswered questions clawed at his thoughts, pressing down like invisible hands.
Suddenly, he stopped. Up ahead, loud voices echoed from an alleyway—drunken men staggering through the street, shouting obscenities, one of them smashing a streetlight with a bottle. Jack instinctively stepped back into the shadows, then remembered Rat's warning: Richard doesn't forgive easily. He won't stop hunting you.
That meant Richard's men were out there, watching, waiting. In a city like this, even the most ordinary scenes could hide deadly danger. He had to stay sharp. One mistake could cost them everything.
He exhaled slowly, steadied his nerves, and walked carefully around the drunkards. He needed a plan—one that could handle anything thrown his way.
Two days later, Jack and Isabella found shelter in an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn, near the docks. The area was filled with crumbling buildings, mostly deserted. The only downside was the damp air and the stench of mildew—but it was hidden enough to feel safe.
Isabella's physical wounds were healing under Jack's careful attention, but her emotional scars ran deep. She still woke up screaming from nightmares, haunted by what she had endured.
"Jack," she said softly one evening, her voice trembling slightly. "I want to help you."
Jack looked at her, understanding the determination in her eyes. She knew he was trying to uncover the truth—to get revenge for what had been done to her. She didn't want to be a burden. She wanted to fight beside him.
"I know," Jack replied gently, taking her hand. "But right now, your job is to rest. Leave the rest to me."
"No," she shook her head firmly. "I can't just sit here doing nothing. I know people—maybe they can help."
Jack nodded. He knew Isabella's past wasn't simple. Her connections likely ran deeper than he could imagine. "Alright. But promise me—you'll be careful. No risks."
She gave a small smile. "I will."
Meanwhile, Jack was already chasing leads. Using the information from Rat, he began digging into the identity of the mysterious investor. But the man was like a ghost—no public records, no known addresses, no digital footprint. Jack had to rely on whispers, rumors, and whatever scraps of intel he could piece together.
Then one day, Isabella came to him with something new.
"I heard something," she said. "Richard has been seen recently at a private club in Manhattan called The Money Club. It's where Wall Street elites make secret deals and play their dangerous games."
Jack's eyes lit up. This was it—a lead worth pursuing. He decided to go there himself.
The next night, Jack disguised himself and infiltrated The Money Club. Dressed in a secondhand suit and wearing dark-framed glasses, he blended in as just another working-class professional hoping to rub shoulders with the elite.
Inside, the club was extravagantly decorated—golden chandeliers, velvet couches, marble floors. The scent of expensive perfume and Cuban cigars lingered in the air. Wealthy men and women laughed and toasted each other, lost in their world of luxury and influence.
Jack moved carefully through the crowd, scanning for Richard. If he could find him, maybe he could spot the mysterious investor too.
Then, suddenly, he saw someone familiar.
A man in a black suit, gold-rimmed glasses, and a confident smirk—talking to a beautiful young woman.
It was Kevin.
Kevin had once been Jack's colleague on Wall Street, one of the few people he truly trusted. What was he doing here? Was he connected to Richard?
Jack crept closer, straining to hear their conversation.
"Kevin," the woman asked, "how's everything going?"
Kevin smiled smugly. "Don't worry. Everything's under control. Jack is finished. He'll never come back."
Jack felt like lightning had struck him. Kevin—his friend—had betrayed him. He had never imagined it would be him.
His blood turned cold. Anger and betrayal surged inside him. He wanted to confront Kevin, to demand answers—but he held back. Not yet. He needed proof. He needed to expose the truth.
Forcing himself to stay calm, Jack slipped out of the club unnoticed. His plan had changed. He had to reassess everything. He realized now that this wasn't just about Richard seeking revenge—it was part of a much bigger game of power. And in this game, trust was the rarest currency of all.
Back at the warehouse, Jack told Isabella what he had overheard. She listened in stunned silence.
"I believe you, Jack," she said, gripping his hand tightly. "No matter what happens, I'm with you."
Looking into her determined eyes, Jack felt a warmth spread through him. He wasn't alone.
Then Isabella spoke again, breaking the silence. "Rat sent a message. He found something about the mysterious investor."
Jack straightened up. "What did he say?"
"He says the investor is a very low-profile billionaire from Wall Street. His name…" she paused, her expression turning serious, "…is Alan Sterling."
Alan Sterling. Jack's mind raced. He remembered hearing whispers about him before—rumors of a shadowy titan who controlled vast wealth and wielded unimaginable power. Few had ever met him face-to-face. He was like a great white shark lurking beneath the ocean surface—silent, unseen, until the moment he struck.
And now, the shark had surfaced.
And Jack was clearly in his sights.
The road ahead would be even more dangerous than before. But Jack knew he had no choice. He had to keep fighting—for himself, for Isabella, for everyone who had been wronged.
This war—he had to win.