Chapter 59 Awoken darkness
Maverick sat across from his father in the study, two generations of power separated only by a big desk. The heavy curtains muted the afternoon sun, casting their faces in sharp shadows.
This was not a conversation meant for outsiders. Not for subordinates and not for family.
Just them.
General Richard clasped his hands, cleared his throat, and looked at his son with the weight of command behind his eyes.
“Are you good?”
Maverick’s posture didn’t shift. His face stayed carved in stone.
“Okay, sir.”
The General’s jaw flexed. “Why didn’t you tell me you received a warning message?”
Maverick barely blinked. “It was nothing to worry about.”
His father’s brows shot up, disbelief stiffening his shoulders.
“Nothing to worry about?”His voice dropped, stern and cutting.
“Maverick, you almost died.”
Maverick leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable, cold.“I didn’t die, did I?”
The room chilled.
Father and son locked eyes two iron wills clashing in silent warfare. Neither looked away.
Finally, General Richard exhaled sharply and spoke.
“The culprit was caught. It was Major Vincent. He stole the ammunition… and he was responsible for Boyle’s death.”
Maverick’s features tightened just a fraction, but enough to betray the disturbance in his chest.
“How?” he demanded quietly.
The General sat forward, expression dark with the seriousness of the investigation.
“While you were unconscious, we followed the leads. We traced the bullet, but it ended in a dead line.”
He paused.
“But we found his wallet on the hunting ground. His emblem. A photograph. Private John identified them. We raided Major Vincent’s office and found large sums of money from an unknown source. Enough to damn him.”
Maverick frowned deep, heavy, unconvinced.“I don’t believe Major Vincent orchestrated this. He wouldn’t have access to the MCID office. There are strict restrictions. He couldn’t bypass them.”
General Richard’s irritation crackled like electricity. “The items you were investigating were found with him, Maverick.” His voice rose slightly controlled, but firm with authority.
“What more proof do you need?”
“I’ll go see Major Vincent,” Maverick said quietly. His voice didn’t waver, not even slightly.
“He’s dead.” His father didn’t blink.
“What?” Maverick’s head snapped up, brow lifting sharply.
“He was found dead in his home the next day,” General Richard replied, tone flat and unbending. “He overdosed on pills. It was ruled as suicide. And all the evidence pointed directly to him.”
Maverick’s jaw clenched. Something twisted in his chest,anger, disbelief, instinct.
“Why would he kill himself, father?”
“Because he’s guilty,” the General answered simply.
Silence hung in the air cold, heavy and charged.
Maverick leaned forward, eyes darkening. “I’ll find out for myself if he’s guilty or not. This is my case.”
His father met his stare head-on. A quiet battlefield sparked between them.
“I wonder,” General Richard said slowly, “how you plan to do that… when you are suspended, Captain Maverick.”
Maverick froze. “What do you mean?”
“A report was filed against you.” He tossed a file across the desk papers sliding out, landing at Maverick’s hands.
“You gave an unauthorized EIT order that pushed a major suspect to suicide. You failed to alert MCID. You buried the chain of command and took an entire classified file to investigate on your own. And then…”
He pushed a tablet forward and hit play.
The video showed Maverick grabbing Collins by the collar and hitting his face over and over. Collins bleeding. Maverick’s face,cold. Controlled. Deadly.
“…you assaulted the MCID lead investigator for ‘stating the truth,’” the General finished.
“Father, this is bullshit!” Maverick’s voice cracked like a whip. Fury flashed so hard his veins stood out. “Can’t you see the culprit is trying to divert attention?!”
General Richard slammed a hand onto the desk.
“Let it go, Maverick! Stop being stubborn!”
“Did you find anything connecting Vincent to Private Peter?” Maverick’s voice shook not with fear, but anger.
“Did you find anything about Boyle’s last moments? Did you…”
“I know this is your way of grieving your brother,” his father cut in sharply.
“You want to feel like you’re avenging him. But the culprit has been found. It is done.”
Something broke in Maverick.
He rose to his feet so violently the chair skidded back.
He grabbed it and hurled it across the room, glass shattered as it crashed into the window, a spike cut across his face drawing blood.
“It’s not done until I say it is,” he snarled, chest heaving.
General Richard didn’t flinch. He simply watched his son this storm he had raised unfolding before him.
After a long moment of silence, he spoke.
“You should focus that energy on getting your wife pregnant.” His voice dropped. Cold. Practical. “We need an heir.”
A muscle twitched in Maverick’s jaw.
“To replace who?” His voice was low, lethal. “Anderson… or Boyle?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
Maverick stormed out of his father’s study, the door slamming against the wall so hard the frame shook. His breath came rough and uneven, rage ripping through him like shrapnel.
He didn’t stop walking and didn’t hear the greeting of servants or the startled footsteps scrambling out of his way.
A memory hit him so sharply it felt like a punch to the ribs. Boyle had been laughing, breathless from running, hair plastered to his forehead.
“Mav,” Boyle had said, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to face him.
His voice was serious.
“If we ever lose each other… you find me. You hear? I’ll find you. You find me. Always.”
Two hands, gripping each other tight.
A promise sealed long before either of them understood how cruel the world could be.
Maverick’s throat tightened and his feet stopped moving.
He refused to believe the man responsible was a simple major who killed himself quietly in his home. No.
Maverick’s phone dinged. Once. Twice. At first he ignored it, jaw clenched, still drowning in the storm of rage.
The phone buzzed nonstop. He finally snatched it from his pocket.
The moment he unlocked the screen, a video began to play automatically.
His pupils shrank and breath froze in his chest. The rage that simmered inside him exploded.
Whatever he saw drained every trace of warmth from his eyes until they went flat and soulless.
Without thinking,without giving himself a second to think he marched.
Heaven’s door was at the end of the hall, but he reached it in seconds, fueled by pure fury.
He slammed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall.
Heaven jerked, startled, her phone still in her trembling hand. She’d been pacing back and forth, panicked by the anonymous messages and the picture she’d received. She opened her mouth…
“Maverick…”
He crossed the room in two strides.
Before she could blink, his hand was at her throat, slamming her back against the wall.
Her breath caught and the phone dropped from her hand and clattered to the floor.
His face was inches from hers. Close enough she could feel the fury radiating off him like heat from a wildfire.
But his voice was ice.
“Who,” he whispered, deadly calm,“have you been fucking?”
Heaven’s eyes widened in horror.