Chapter 22
AXEL’S POV:
+5
Cedric’s words felt
like a heavy burden that was hard to shake off. I wanted to dismiss him outright, but his voice carried sincerity. He looked at me, not as a feared man or a killer, but as someone he cared about–like a father would a son.
I forced a dry laugh. “That’s rich, Cedric, God? For someone like me?” I shook my head, incredulous. “You’ve been with me for years, patching up my men, stitching the ones I tortured just so I could tear them apart again. You’ve seen it all. Yet you think God has room for someone like me?” I sought. “If He does exist, where was He for the ones I’ve killed? The ones who begged for mercy? Explain that to me.”
Cedric’s expression didn’t change. He placed his briefcase down and leaned closer, his hand firm but warm on my shoulder. “Axel,” he began, “you’re right. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve seen the destruction you’ve left behind. But God doesn’t weigh your sins when He’s offering to save you. That’s not how it works. You’re dying. You have nothing to lose by trying this–nothing except your pride,” he bluntly said.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was also too proud to go to someone or some divinity for help.
He straightened, digging into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “I came prepared today, knowing you’d be stubborn,” he said, pulling out a small card. There was no logo, no name–just an address written in neat cursive. He placed it gently on the sofa beside me. “This is a seer. Someone who might be able to help. I’ve heard things–things that science can’t explain, and we both know your condition fits that category.”
I stared at the card but didn’t move. “You’re wasting your time, Cedric,” I muttered.
Cedric sighed deeply, stepping back but keeping his eyes locked on mine. “If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Sea. She deserves her father–one who
He sighed will walk her down the aisle someday, who will see her grow. Don’t let your pride steal those moments from her.”
His words hit harder than I expected, but I made sure my face gave nothing away. Sea. My little princess.
Cedric picked up his briefcase, nodding once. “That’s all I’ll say. I’ve done what I can. Stick to the medication for now, and I’ll check in again soon.” Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving me alone in the silence.
I stayed there for a while, staring at the card on the sofa. My fingers itched to grab it, to crush it, to throw it away. But I didn’t. Instead, I sat back, legs crossed, my mind spinning in circles.
After what felt like an eternity, I snatched the card off the sofa, glaring at the address as though it had insulted me. The words were elegant, precise–too neat for the chaos in my life. Shaking my head, I stuffed it into my suit pocket, unsure if I was keeping it out of curiosity or sheer spite.
I left the office, my footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. As I approached her. The door creaked open just enough for me to slip inside.
room, I instinctively slowed, twisting the knob carefully to avoid waking
The room smelled like lavender and baby powder–soft, soothing. In the dim light of her night lamp, I could see her tiny frame curled under the blanket, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the world’s cruelty.
I didn’t dare touch her; she’d wake up instantly. Instead, I stood there, hands in my pockets, soaking in her presence. The sound of her soft breaths, the faint–hum of the night–these were the moments I didn’t deserve but clung to anyway.
A smile crept onto my face before I could stop it. It wasn’t forced or calculated; it just happened. For a moment, all the darkness, the blood, the fear–it faded. She was my light, my only reason for holding on.
But then, like a shadow, Cedric’s words came rushing back. Do it for Sea.
Tinhaled deeply, turned on my heel, and walked out.
It was 10 AM, and my office was a haven of order and control. The soft purr of the air conditioning blended with the faint rustle of paper as I worked through a stack of documents–names and numbers of potential investors eager to pour their wealth into my empire. Everything about this space was intentional, from the perfectly aligned leather chairs to the understated luxury of the desk. This was my domain.
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21:27 Wed, 16 Apr
Chapter 22
To the public, I was Axel Blackwood, the billionaire CEO of MedixGen Pharmaceuticals. A name that opened doors and commanded respect in boardrooms, at charity galas, and on the front pages of financial magazines. Men aspired to emulate me; women fantasized about becoming Mrs. Blackwood. I was the epitome of success.
51%
5
My spotless record was a masterpiece, a lie so expertly woven it could never be unraveled. What they didn’t know was that by night, I commanded a different world entirely. A world of shadows and blood where the name Axel Blackwood meant something far more sinister. Mafia lord. The orchestrator
of terror.
My pen hovered over a line, the tip pressing just enough to leave a faint mark, when the muffled commotion outside my office broke my concentration. Raised voices. A thud. Something–or someone–was pushing against my perimeter.
I didn’t flinch. Whatever it was, I had more than enough men to handle it. They knew better than to let anything–or anyone–get past them.
Or so thought.
The door to my office slammed open with enough force to rattle the glass fixtures, and suddenly, eight men stormed in. They fanned out. My hand moved instinctively under the desk, fingers grazing the emergency button embedded seamlessly beneath the second drawer. One press and the room would fill with chaos–my chaos, not theirs.
But I didn’t press it. Not yet.
Instead, I leaned back in my chair, slow and deliberate, letting my gaze settle on the man at the front. His head was shiny under the overhead lights, dotted with a few stubborn strands of hair clinging to the sides. His posture screamed bravado, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.
I cocked an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him uncomfortable. My expression was one of practiced boredom, but then, with a slight tilt of my head, I broke it.
“Who the fuck afe you,” I asked, my tone calm but laced with ice, “and what makes you think you can walk into my office uninvited?”
