His wealth
“Hey!” One of the rogue guards roared from outside. “Get up and eat the damn food!”
Getting up was impossible. I couldn't. My legs have been badly bruised with all the chains and gruesome tortures.
I had an excruciating black eye on the right eye and the left was slightly swollen. There was a bleeding bruise on my arm. My clothes have been ripped apart, so they're barely keeping me from the harsh coldness of the bare floor.
I'm in hell. Literally. There was no sugarcoating or downplaying the agony I was feeling right now.
They want me to eat? My lips are slightly swollen with all those punches! How the hell can I even stomach food when my body has been so badly destroyed?
Breathing was getting harder with each second. Forcing air through my nostrils was hard work. I'd give up breathing if it didn't mean dying.
“Hey!” The door opened and two men came inside. “You don't wanna eat? Then don't! You're coming with us!”
I grunted as they roughly dragged me off the ground and took me with them into the main house. Into the living room.
Frederick was seated there, in a wheelchair. He was bald now. And still sickly. The poison had taken the better part of him.
Declan was standing next to him. The room was roughly littered by their men. There was another man in a suit, next to Declan.
A throaty grunt pushed out of my lips when the guards forced me down on my knees. Bruised knees, colliding hard on a marble floor. The pain was fucking hellish.
Declan came closer to me. “Hello, Vince.” He smirked and punched me. P.S., he's wearing a fucking knuckle brass!
My face snapped to the side. Blood spewed out of my mouth, flying in directions. I was gonna fall to the floor but the guards forced me back on my knees.
I clenched my teeth, holding back the pain as much as I could. But I was groaning subtly.
“Declan,” Frederick said his name like he was stopping him.
“Father, don't. This bastard tricked us! Punching him isn't enough. I should rip his face apart…” he raised his hand to deliver another punch.
My face couldn't handle another punch. But it's not like I could ask him not to hit me. So I anticipated it instead. Eyes shut. Waiting. But it never landed.
“Open those eyes, dammit,” he gritted out. I slowly tore my eyes open. He was holding a file. The suited man was holding more files. Files that I recognize.
“How dare you, Vince?” He flipped the file in front of me. “How dare you sign these contracts with a fake signature?!”
I didn't mean to. But the anger in his face, the shame in his eyes, the clear crack in his ego, I couldn't help but feel amused.
My lips tilted in a painful smirk. “What are you talking about?”
“You bastard!” He hissed, landing another slap on my face.
Fuck!!
“Declan!” Frederick yelled. But went into a sickly, coughing fit. That man was as good as dead. The poison did him so damn good.
I'm just as good as dead too. My body was already a wreck.
“What you laughing at, huh?” Declan fumed, fisting my hair and yanking my face up. “You think this is funny?”
“A…little…bit…” I must have a dead wish. Or officially gone, psycho. Because why the fuck was I pissing him off so badly when I didn't stand a chance?
His knuckles tightened. I worried a bit that he was gonna hit me again. He didn't.
“I'm gonna count to three,” he breathed harshly. “And when I'm done, and you've not signed the real signatures, I'm gonna have my men break your fingers, one at a time until you give up.”
“You…” I swallowed a churning pain. “You…can break my fingers, crush every bone in my body, rip me apart and you're still not gonna get me signing another signature. Because what I signed was the real one. I didn't fake anything…”
“The fuck you didn't!” He waved the files. “How the hell do you explain the fact that we can't access every property you signed off in these contracts?!”
Signed off? Just as I thought.
“So they weren't business proposals after all. You had me signing off my shit. You wanted to leave me penniless…”
“And take half your Pack too, yes.” Declan completed, owning up to his crimes with a bastard arrogance.
I did have some suspicion. But I didn't care much. Because I had nothing to lose.
“Too bad.” I forced a smile. “I don't have shit in my name…”
His grip on my hair got harder, and I muffled a groan. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means…that I don't have any wealth in my name. I'm literally a poor man. Poor as a damn church rat.”
His eyes twitched in confusion. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“That's impossible,” he seethed. “Don't you dare try messing with me…”
“Let go of my hair if you wanna hear the truth,” I said as I couldn't take the pain any longer.
He stalled but eventually let go, striding back to his father's side. I took seconds to catch my breath.
“Everything I own…they're not in my name. Logically, I'm penniless. So there's no wealth for you to steal. You bunch of hungry scoundrels.”
Declan and Frederick exchanged conflicted stares. My guess? They're wondering what kinda complex psycho I was.
If only they knew I wasn't any psycho at all. I was a man deep in love, and childishly excited over the idea of having a family with the girl I was crazy about.
When I found out about her pregnancy, I let the excitement consume me and led me into making the most irrational, and sentimental decision of my life.
Because I wanted to impress her. Because I couldn't wait to start a family with her.
I prepared a name for my future child. And I'd signed off everything to that child. I gave up everything I worked for my whole life for a damn fetus. Thinking about it now, I feel stupid.
It was the stupidest stunt I ever pulled for Elena. I've done foolish shit for her but that one crowns them all.
Giving her unborn child complete control of everything, even though I had a grown-ass son, was an insane move. But it just meant that I had so many plans for that child and that's why I broke badly when she got rid of it.
I never bothered transferring everything back to my name. Leaving my wealth under the name of someone who was inexistent was fucking illegal. The law would eat me up if they found out. But I just couldn't redo it. It would mean accepting that my child was never becoming a reality. And I was too broken to accept it.
“You had your wealth transferred,” Declan spelled out. I didn't affirm his suspicion. “You bloody son of a bitch.” He hissed, punching the air in frustration.
“What are we gonna do?” The man in an Armani suit asked. “If there's no wealth under his name, then his signature is useless to us.”
“Find…the…man…he…transferred…his…wealth…to.” Frederick stuttered weakly. Declan stopped his pacing.
His eyes glowed in realization. “Father's right. If his wealth isn't in his name, then it has to be under someone else's. We just need to find that person. It gotta be someone he trusts.”
The burn in my chest became intense. If they found the person whose signature I used to seal the transfer, the person who had to sign in place of my inexistent child, then I'd be completely ruined.
“I'll find that person, I swear it,” Declan said in my face. Then he grinned. “I hope you know though. No one's coming for you. No one's coming to rescue you. You're gonna rot here.”
Anguish flushed through my weakened veins. And my heart clenched at the bitter truth.
Because yeah, I already figured out that no one was coming for me. No one. I'm fucking alone.