It wasn't until the second day after David's departure that Mark noticed his absence. That evening, when the maid brought in his dinner, he eyed her with mild curiosity.
"Where's David?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent.
The maid, cautious as always, kept her gaze low. "He left on a business trip, sir."
Mark laughed bitter, humorless. "Business trip?" He leaned back against the wall with a scoff. "Right. Of course. The devil's off to do business."
The maid hesitated but said nothing. "You can go," Mark waved her off. She gave a small bow and left quickly, the door locking behind her with a familiar click.
Mark exhaled heavily. His days blurred together, trapped within the same four walls. Reading, watching movies, listening to music—those were the only distractions left. But tonight, the silence felt heavier.
He muttered to himself, "Since the devil isn't home, there's no one left to annoy. Boring."
He rose from the bed and walked to the window, though there wasn't much to see—only a wall of trees and distant shadows. No roads, no people, no chance of being heard. Even if he screamed, no one would come.
Slumping into the chair beside the window, Mark buried his face in his hands. Tears came uninvited, quietly at first, then heavier. "What did I do?" he whispered through sobs. "Why am I locked up like this? Like a prisoner?"
He raised his head, eyes red and glassy. "I should've died with my father… At least then I wouldn't be stuck in this hollow, empty world without him."
His chest tightened at the thought. He hadn't even been given the chance to mourn properly. His grief had been caged just like him.
"How did I end up here?" he asked the empty room. "Why me?"
But there were no answers. Just silence.
After a long stretch of thought, he inhaled shakily and wiped his face. "No," he said quietly. "I have to live… I have to find out why. I have to get to the bottom of all this."
His voice firmed slightly, even in solitude. "I need to survive… until I uncover the truth."
The room was quiet, filled with tension. Dim lights cast long shadows across the large table where several men sat traders, smugglers, and powerful allies. Some were dressed in suits, others in casual jackets, but all of them carried the same sharp edge in their eyes.
David sat at the head of the table, his posture calm, but his mind restless.
This meeting wasn't just about trade. Officially, they were discussing rare items—expensive watches, stolen artwork, antique gold coins, and luxury cars shipped illegally across borders. This was the dark business his family had controlled for years. On the surface, it looked clean. Beneath it all, it was built on lies, betrayal, and blood.
And David wanted out.
But not yet. Not until he uncovered the truth.
David's father and Mark's father had both died on the same night. A deal had gone wrong. No one spoke about it directly, but David knew—someone in this circle had been there. Someone had betrayed them.
He leaned forward slowly, eyes fixed on Tony, who stood silently nearby.
"Every single face in this room," David said in a low voice, "I want you to remember them. Especially the ones that were at the meeting the day my father died."
Tony gave a firm nod. "Some of them are definitely familiar. I've already spotted a few. I'm watching their every move."
David's eyes narrowed. "Good. Let's not waste this opportunity."
Tony stepped closer and whispered, "There's a hidden camera recording everything. We'll have their faces, their voices. This time, we'll know who was there."
David didn't speak right away. He looked around the room, taking in each face. Some laughed and sipped wine, pretending this was just another business deal. But David saw past the smiles. He saw secrets.
He turned back to the group and forced a cold smile. "Let's begin."
But his thoughts were far from the table. He wasn't thinking of profit or power. He was thinking of justicefor his father, for Mark's father. Until he got the truth, David couldn't walk away from this world.
Not yet.
The grand hall buzzed with low murmurs and clinking glasses, the air thick with the scent of expensive cigars and tension. The meeting had been going for hours. Traders from various regions were present, each representing a piece of the empire David had inherited but not all the pieces had fallen into place.
David stood near the head of the table, sipping a glass of dark wine, eyes scanning the room like a predator watching his prey. He had waited long enough.
Tony approached, subtle and discreet, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "The last group the one we've been watching closely—just called. They said they won't be able to make it to the auction."
David didn't flinch. He set his glass down with care. "I understand," he said calmly.
But beneath his composed expression, frustration burned.
He turned and walked a few steps away, Tony quietly following behind. They stood in a shadowed corner, away from curious eyes and wandering ears.
"It's like they know," David muttered, his voice low. "They sense something's about to happen tonight."
Tony nodded, his jaw tight. "It's the third time. Three major events missed, all without a solid excuse. With the kind of money and benefits tied to this, no group like theirs would back out unless they have something to hide."
David narrowed his eyes. "I've been thinking the same. They were at the meeting the night my father died. Now, every time we get close to gathering them all in one room… they disappear."
Tony's gaze was sharp. "They're getting suspicious. Maybe we're getting too close."
David glanced back toward the crowd, the false laughter and shallow deals. The room felt colder now. He straightened his jacket, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves.
He walked back to the center, raising his hand for silence. The room quieted, all eyes turning to him.
"I appreciate your presence tonight," David began, his voice calm but firm. "But since not all parties are present, we'll conclude here. The rest of the details will be sent through our usual channels, Thank you.
A few traders exchanged confused glances, but no one dared question him.
David nodded once, then stepped away, signaling to Tony. As they exited the room together, his expression hardened.
"This isn't over," David said. "We're close. Too close."
Tony met his eyes. "Next time, we trap them. One way or another."
David didn't respond. He didn't need to. His silence was a promise.