This novel is a work of pure fiction, created solely for the entertainment and enjoyment of readers. Any resemblance to real events, people, or places is purely coincidental. The characters, plot, and setting are entirely original, and this book is not a copy or adaptation of any existing work, history, or fictional material.
The story takes place in America, with a blend of Korean characters and cultural influences. Please note that the author is neither Korean nor American, so kindly approach the portrayal of characters and themes with understanding and an open mind. Your support is greatly appreciated as I strive to bring this world to life through my writing.
Note: All phone calls in the dialogue will be written in []
Thank you for reading.
CHAPTER TWO
A WARNING
The day was nearing its end, the soft orange hues of sunset beginning to filter through the blinds. In his dimly lit study, Christian sat at his desk, methodically going through a stack of documents. Each photo placed carefully before him told a story—images of the Black Serpent organization and their operations. His eyes lingered on one particular photo of Kyle, taken in a busy environment. The pale expression on his face contrasted sharply against the bustling backdrop. Christian sighed and leaned back, placing the photo down gently, his thoughts clouded.
Just as he relaxed for a moment, a knock on the door broke the stillness.
"Boss..." A deep voice called from the other side.
"Come in," Christian responded, his tone tired, as the man entered and handed him a phone.
"I have a message from Mr. Jacob," the man said.
_
Christian's Mustang hummed as it maneuvered through the winding roads of Bear Mountain, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the landscape. The bright lights of New York City were now miles behind him, the city's towering skyscrapers fading into the distance. He took a sharp turn onto the Mountain Road, a secluded mountain route leading to an abandoned warehouse at 2327 Bear Mountain Road, tucked away from the busy urban sprawl.
The road twisted around jagged rocks and thick trees, the quiet of the mountain in stark contrast to the hustle of the city. The air grew cooler as the Mustang ascended, with only the occasional flash of the sunlight cutting through the dense forest. Christian's eyes narrowed as the silhouette of the warehouse came into view, its outline just visible in the dim light. He parked the Mustang near the entrance, stepping out into the eerie quiet of the mountain.
Christian emerged, flanked by his men, who exchanged nods with the guards patrolling the perimeter. As they entered the warehouse, a sharply dressed man with neatly undercut black hair greeted Christian exuberantly.
"Christian! What's the deal with last night's orders? snatching of one of Vance's guys? Spill it," he asked as they walked toward a man tied to a metal chair.
Christian didn't answer immediately, his eyes narrowing with focus. He finally spoke, his voice low, "I'll tell you later."
Jacob, standing beside Christian, answered with a cold, matter-of-fact tone, "We nabbed this guy, Simon, near the area you mentioned. He's one of Vance's top men."
The man in the chair sneered, blood dripping from his lip as he spat. "Fuck you... The moment they realize I've gone missing, they'll track down my locations. You bastards won't escape. Your team will be next on the boss's list to overtake..." His voice faltered, a harsh gasp escaping him.
Christian's expression remained cold as he stepped closer to the man, his gaze never leaving his face. The room was heavy with tension.
"Spare me the threats," Christian murmured, his hand reaching into his jacket, pulling out a sharp knife. "If you give me the info I want, I'll let you walk away with your life. But if you don't, I'll take a little souvenir back with me." He flashed a cruel short smile. "How about two fingers?"
The man struggled against his restraints, his defiance fading as his breaths became shallow. "F*ck..." the man muttered. "I ain't telling you anything. You'll have to kill me first!"
Christian's eyes darkened, his patience thinning. The sound of the man's breathing grew louder in the silence, an ominous tension hanging in the air.
With the knife in his hand, Christian plunged it into the man's leg. A guttural groan escaped his lips, followed by a chuckle laced with defiance. Spitting at Christian, blood splattered across his face. A surge of disgust rose within him, but Christian kept his composure, his anger simmering beneath a cool exterior. With a sharp exhale, he pulled out his gun and fired a clean shot, the bullet sinking into the man's forehead. Blood and brains splattered across the floor, and the man slumped lifelessly into the chair. Silence followed—his men stood frozen, struck dumb, unable to utter a word.
"Deon…" Christian called, his voice calm despite the fury churning inside him.
Deon, always quick to respond, handed him a napkin without a word. Christian took it, wiping his face with a brief chuckle, before passing his pistol to Deon as well.
"Thank you, Deon," Christian muttered, his eyes scanning the room.
"Do me a favor," he continued, his voice now more businesslike. "I need you to find out more about this guy."
From his pocket, Christian retrieved a sealed envelope and passed it to Jacob. Jacob took the envelope, his eyes narrowing as he peered at the photo inside.
"Jeong Kyung-Jae Kyle," Christian said, watching Jacob's reaction closely.
"Hey… That's…"
"Vance's most cherished guy… or should I say, ex-right-hand man. Whatever happened, it's clear they're not what we had been led to believe all these years." Christian's tone was steady as he gestured for them to leave the warehouse.
"He's under my care at the moment."
Jacob frowned, his brow furrowing with confusion. He stepped closer to Christian, grabbing him by the arm, his expression strained.
"Wh—Hey… You sure about this?"
The tension in the air was palpable. The men nearby shifted uncomfortably but dared not intervene.
"Have you forgotten what they did?" Jacob's voice had a touch of urgency.
Christian met his gaze, unwavering. His words came cold, measured. "I haven't. But I'm handling it."
Jacob hesitated, then let go of his arm. A sigh escaped him as he composed himself.
"I'm sorry, Christian, but this could be our chance to bait out their leader," Jacob urged, voice softer now, but still filled with concern.
Christian's eyes hardened.
"Vance shot his most trusted partner. His closest ally. Doesn't that seem strange to you? The man vanishes for years, only to reappear, wounded? That doesn't add up."
He turned to face Jacob, locking eyes with him. "Kyle stays with me until we figure out what happened to him. We need to understand why he's like this. If we get that answer, it could lead us straight to Vance."
A brief silence hung between them as Christian adjusted his jacket, his voice lowering.
"Is this about your past with him… or about getting the truth about Mason's death?" Jacob asks,
"Both." Christian's gaze faltered for a brief moment, his mind racing. "Seeing him like that last night—it's clear something's wrong. This could be the break we need. We can't ignore it."
Jacob let out a frustrated sigh. "But think about it… Vance gave Kyle one of the highest and most dangerous positions. No criminal record, no obvious reason. And they don't even act like brothers, despite what everyone else calls them. So what's their real relationship?"
Christian exhaled slowly, his mind piecing the puzzle together. "I don't know, but this might be the key to dealing with Vance after everything he's done."
He turned toward Jacob, his tone colder now. "Handle it. Get a portion of him to the nearest Black Serpent outpost. We need to make it clear we're not playing games."
His eyes bore into Jacob's, each word deliberate, carrying the weight of his unyielding resolve.
"I need to get back home. Call me if anything changes."
"I will," Jacob replied, his tone steady as Christian started the engine of his car.
As the engine roared to life, Jacob couldn't help but sigh. "Tch…"