Page 9 — The Betrayal
The city slept beneath a bruised sky. Thunder rolled like distant war drums, shaking the glass walls of Adrian's penthouse. Inside, the air was too still — the kind of silence that didn't belong to peace but to something waiting to break.
Eli stood near the window, watching the storm crawl over the skyline. Lightning split the sky open, painting him in pale, trembling light. He hadn't slept. Not since the night he found that room — the photos, the names, his own face. Every sound felt like a ghost returning. Every minute stretched, taut and cruel.
Adrian hadn't come home.
Not last night. Not the night before.
Eli told himself he didn't care. But the ache in his chest told a different story.
When the elevator finally chimed, Eli's breath caught. The sound of footsteps — slow, heavy — filled the hallway. And then, the door unlocked.
Adrian stepped inside, rain clinging to his coat like shadows refusing to let go. His expression was unreadable, sharp enough to cut glass. But beneath the exhaustion, Eli saw it — something fractured, something he hadn't seen before: regret.
"You're back," Eli said, voice low, the words caught between relief and accusation.
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He shrugged off his coat, set his gun on the counter — something he'd never done before — and turned to face him.
"We need to talk," he said simply.
Eli crossed his arms, trying to hide the tremor in his hands. "Now you want to talk? After disappearing for two days?"
Adrian's jaw tightened. "I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," Eli said sharply. "You chose to keep secrets. You chose to lie. You chose to put my picture on that wall like I was one of your—" He stopped, the word dying on his tongue.
Targets.
Adrian's eyes flicked up at that — the faintest crack in his composure. "You shouldn't have gone in there."
"And you shouldn't have lied to me," Eli snapped. "So tell me, what am I to you, Adrian? Another job? Another face you're supposed to erase?"
Something dark flickered across Adrian's face, like a storm cloud blocking out the man underneath. "You're not a job," he said finally. "You were never supposed to be part of this."
"Then what am I?" Eli demanded.
Adrian stepped closer, slow and deliberate. "You're the reason I broke the rules."
The words hit Eli like a spark to dry kindling. His pulse jumped.
"What rules?"
Adrian's gaze softened for the briefest moment. "The kind that keep people alive."
Eli shook his head. "You're talking in riddles again."
Adrian hesitated — then reached into his pocket and placed something on the table. A flash drive. Small, black, and unmarked.
"This," he said quietly, "is why people are dying. Why I had to disappear. Why I didn't tell you the truth."
Eli stared at it. "What's on it?"
"Names," Adrian said. "And proof. Of what my family's company has done. Of who they've silenced to keep their empire clean."
Eli blinked, the words sinking in like stones. "You mean… your father?"
Adrian nodded once, eyes cold. "And his partners. They've built everything on blood money, Eli. And when I tried to walk away, they sent someone to make sure I didn't talk."
Eli's voice dropped to a whisper. "To kill you?"
Adrian's silence was the answer.
The thunder outside crashed again, echoing through the room.
Eli moved closer. "Then why keep me here? Why drag me into this?"
Adrian's eyes flickered — pain, guilt, something unspoken. "Because they already knew about you."
The words sliced through the air.
Eli's breath hitched. "What?"
"They knew you were with me. They found you before I could protect you. That's why your picture was on that wall. I wasn't hunting you, Eli — I was trying to keep them from doing it first."
Eli's heart pounded so loud it drowned out the rain. "You should have told me."
Adrian's voice broke slightly. "If I did, you would've run. And they would've found you."
"And now?" Eli asked. "What do we do now?"
Before Adrian could answer, the lights flickered. Once. Twice.
Then the power went out.
The only light came from the city below, a cold blue glow seeping through the windows.
Adrian's body tensed. His hand moved automatically toward the gun on the counter — but before he could reach it, the glass behind him shattered.
Eli screamed as a figure in black burst through the window, shards flying. Adrian reacted instantly, pulling Eli behind him as a silenced gunshot cut through the dark. The bullet grazed his shoulder, blood blooming through his shirt.
"Get down!" Adrian shouted, shoving Eli toward the hallway.
The intruder moved fast — too fast — shadows on shadows. Adrian fired once, twice, hitting nothing but air and glass. The man was trained, efficient, merciless. He lunged again, a knife flashing in the dim light.
Adrian met him head-on, catching his wrist, twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. But the man fought like he didn't care about dying. Eli grabbed the nearest object — a lamp — and swung it with desperate force. It shattered against the man's head, buying them seconds.
"Go!" Adrian ordered.
"I'm not leaving you!" Eli shouted.
"Now!"
Eli hesitated — then ran. The sound of the struggle followed him down the corridor: grunts, breaking glass, another shot.
He reached the locked door — that door — and froze.
Something inside him whispered hide. So he did. He slipped inside, closing it behind him, heart thundering.
He pressed his ear to the wood.
Silence. Then footsteps. Slow. Approaching.
"Adrian?" he whispered.
The door handle turned.
He stepped back, breath caught in his throat — but when the door opened, it wasn't Adrian.
It was the man in black.
His face was masked, but his voice carried a terrible calm. "You're more trouble than he said you'd be."
Eli stumbled backward. "Who sent you?"
The man tilted his head slightly. "The same people who own him."
And before Eli could move, the man raised his gun.
A single shot rang out.
Eli flinched — but the bullet never hit him.
The man jerked violently, collapsing to the ground. Behind him stood Adrian, blood on his hands, gun smoking, eyes wide with something close to panic.
"Eli," he breathed. "Are you hurt?"
Eli shook his head, too shocked to speak. Adrian's arm was bleeding badly, his breathing ragged.
"We have to go," Adrian said, grabbing Eli's wrist. "There'll be more."
"But—"
"No time!"
He dragged him toward the elevator, every step echoing through the shattered silence. The world blurred — the smell of smoke, of rain, of blood. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.
As the doors slid shut, Eli looked up at Adrian, his vision swimming.
"You killed him," he whispered.
Adrian didn't look at him. "If I hadn't, he'd have killed you."
Eli swallowed hard. "Then what now?"
Adrian looked down at the flash drive in his hand. "Now we run."
The elevator descended — floors passing like seconds — until suddenly, it shuddered to a stop.
Eli frowned. "What's happening?"
Adrian's hand went to his gun again. "They've cut the power."
The lights flickered — then a new voice spoke through the speaker above them.
"Well done, son," it said.
Low. Cold. Familiar.
Adrian froze.
Eli stared at him. "Who is that?"
Adrian's knuckles went white around the gun. "My father."
The voice chuckled softly. "I warned you, Adrian. You can't escape the family. Not with what you've stolen."
Adrian's teeth clenched. "I'm not part of your empire anymore."
"You always will be," the voice said. "And the boy — he's just another weakness."
Eli's blood ran cold. "He knows about me."
"Oh, he knows everything," the voice purred. "He's the reason you were kept alive this long. We needed to see how far you'd go for him."
Adrian's face hardened. "You'll never touch him."
"Oh, Adrian," his father said. "You already did."
The elevator lurched again — then began to rise, not descend.
Adrian hit the control panel, cursing under his breath. "He's rerouting us."
"To where?" Eli asked.
Adrian met his eyes, the faintest flicker of despair in his voice. "To him."
The doors slid open to a floor Eli had never seen — dark, empty, filled with the hum of servers and blinking red lights. At the center stood a man in a tailored suit, silver-haired, calm as the devil himself.
"Father," Adrian said, gun raised.
"Son," the man replied. "You look tired."
Eli stayed behind Adrian, every instinct screaming to run. But Adrian didn't move. His voice was steady, his aim sure.
"It ends tonight."
His father smiled faintly. "You're right."
And before Adrian could react, Eli felt a sharp sting in his neck — a prick, almost gentle. He looked down, saw a small dart embedded in his skin.
His vision blurred.
"Adrian—" he gasped.
Adrian turned, eyes wide. "Eli!"
Eli's knees buckled. Adrian caught him before he hit the ground, shaking him, desperate. "Stay with me. Eli, look at me."
But Eli's eyes fluttered, heavy with darkness. He saw Adrian's face — fierce, terrified, breaking apart.
Then nothing.
The last thing he heard was Adrian's voice — hoarse, broken, full of a pain that reached deeper than words.
"Don't take him. Take me instead!"
The world went silent.
And the storm outside swallowed the city whole.