The McLaren Sabre slowly ca to a halt in front of the massive, frail-looking mansion. Jayden stepped out of the vehicle, his eyes fixed on the towering structure ahead.
Eastview.
The place where everything began. The place that once held his family’s happiest days... and eventually, their darkest.
The mansion stood tall but worn. Its white bricks had faded into dull gray, ivy crawling up its cracked walls like nature was trying to swallow it whole. The large iron gates had long since rusted, hanging loosely from their hinges. Even the once-beautiful fountain in front was now dry and filled with dust, its sculpted cherubs chipped and broken.
For a mont, Jayden simply stood there in silence, letting the cold breeze hit his face as he stared at the old house that once echoed with laughter, love, and life.
mories ca flooding in.
Running through the gardens with his mother chasing him, his father lifting him on his shoulders as they strolled by the fountain, those warm dinners in the grand dining hall where his mother would always insist he finish his vegetables.
Back when life was... simple.
Back before Gregory Kingsley ruined everything.
A lump ford in his throat, but he quickly composed himself. Today wasn’t a day for grief... it was a day to rebuild.
The sound of approaching vehicles behind him broke his trance. A team of engineers and construction workers arrived, stepping out of their trucks with docunts, equipnt, and asuring tools.
One of the site managers approached him.
"Mr. Cole, we’ve reviewed the renovation plans you approved. Full restoration and expansion as requested. Estimated cost sits at 1.5 million dollars, sir."
Jayden nodded without hesitation, pulling a gold-embossed pen from his jacket pocket and signing the necessary docunts.
"Good," he said firmly. "I want everything top-class. I want this place standing stronger than ever. This house is coming back to life."
The manager nodded, impressed by the young man’s decisiveness.
"Of course, Mr. Cole. We’ll begin imdiately."
As the workers began surveying the grounds and unloading equipnt, Jayden stepped forward and slowly pushed open the grand double doors. The creak echoed through the hollow alley like a ghostly welco.
The inside was worse than the outside.
Dust coated the grand staircase. The once-gleaming marble floors were dull and cracked. Cobwebs hung like faded curtains from the ceiling chandeliers. Broken photo fras still lay scattered on the floor from the last ti authorities had raided the mansion after his father’s arrest.
Jayden inhaled deeply, the scent of old wood and decay filling his lungs.
And yet... underneath it all, he could still feel the warmth of ho buried deep within these broken walls.
He blinked, shaking his head repeatedly.
He then made his way up the stairs, each creak beneath his shoes reminding him of small footsteps that once ran up and down these very steps.
At the end of the hallway stood his old room.
He turned the knob and entered.
The bed fra still stood, though the mattress was long gone. The faded blue paint on the walls was chipped, but the little height marks his mother used to draw on the corner wall were still there.
Jayden’s lips curled into a weak smile as his fingertips gently traced those faded pencil marks.
"6 years old... 7... 8... 9..."
He chuckled softly. "You always said I was growing too fast, Mom," he muttered.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to savor the mory before finally turning and heading for his father’s room...
His parents’ room.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing a room that sohow remained slightly more intact than the others. The large king-sized bed fra was still there, along with the massive wardrobe and golden table where his father used to read financial reports every evening.
Jayden walked towards the golden table, noticing that six drawers lined its side. Five of them were open, empty and dusty. Only one remained closed.
A drawer with a small rolling number lock. Three-segnt digit rolls.
His brows furrowed, giving it a sharp stare.
The lock looked untouched for years.
’What could Dad have kept hidden here?’ he wondered after a flinch.
He sat before the table and began trying combinations, starting with the obvious ones.
He began with his father’s birthday...
22-05-96.
But was t with slight disappointnt. The lock stood still.
Then he hesitated before trying his mother’s.
But still, the lock refused to budge.
Jayden paused for a mont, thinking, wondering what his father had used. The fact that it was a three-grouped roll made it likely to be a date of birth pattern, so he remained strong-willed to keep trying that format.
It took a few seconds before a soft realization struck him.
’What if... he used my own birthday?’ he questioned himself but didn’t waste ti to try.
His father always said he was his proudest legacy.
Jayden slowly turned the dials.
27-01-27
January 27th.
The mont the final digit clicked into place, there was a soft tallic snap, and the drawer slid open.
Jayden’s face brightened as he quickly took a look inside the drawer.
Inside was a small rubber-sealed envelope and sothing glinting under the dim light.
Jayden gently pulled them out.
The first item was his father’s favorite golden watch, the one he wore almost every day without fail. The one Jayden used to play with as a child while sitting on his father’s lap. The polished surface still shone under the dim light, as if it had waited all these years for Jayden’s hands.
However, it was the envelope that drew his full attention. Jayden couldn’t help but wonder what it held, but whatever it was, he knew his father had dropped it.
He carefully peeled open the seal and unfolded the letter inside. The handwriting was unmistakably his father’s...
Strong, firm, full of dignity even in ink.
> "To my son,
If you’re reading this, then life has already taken you through storms I prayed you’d never face.
Son, no matter what the world throws at you, always rember who you are.
You carry our na. Our blood. And our values.
Make and your mother proud.
Now, I see, only you can restore the Cole Family’s glory.
Do it for .
Be strong. Be brave. Be the good man I always raised you to be.
No matter what, son. Always be the good guy." <
Jayden’s hands trembled as the words sank deep into his heart. His throat tightened, and he could no longer hold back the tears. Hot streams rolled down his cheeks as his vision blurred.
For a mont, the weight of all these years, the pain, the loneliness, the betrayal, collapsed on his shoulders.
He clutched the watch tightly, as if holding his father’s hand once more, feeling his heart shatter.
"I miss you, Dad... I miss you so much," he whispered between the tears.
But as the tears fell, sothing hardened inside him. His mind drifted into many things, one of which was the cause of the Cole Family’s predicant.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, his eyes burning with rage and determination.
"Gregory Kingsley."
The man who destroyed everything. The man who frad his father. The man who took his family from him.
Jayden’s lips quivered before curling into a cold, deadly whisper.
"Gregory Kingsley... you’ll pay with your life."
For the first ti, it wasn’t just revenge.
It was blood.
And in that mont, sothing shifted in Jayden.
This war would not just end with money or power.
It would end with Kingsley’s fall and death.
"I promise you, Dad. I will make each and every one of them pay!"
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