Chapter 198

Damian's POV

As more and more updates came in, Marty's expression kept getting darker by the minute.

I watched him keep shooting looks at the other shareholders, his eyes full of warning.

He'd worked his way into that seat, and he was my uncle, so of course, he had plenty of loyal supporters.

But when money was involved, everyone looked out for themselves, and in a room like this, nobody dared to cross me.

I lifted my gaze to meet his gaze, a hint of cold amusement hiding behind my smile. "Uncle Marty, why bother putting on a show? Even if you warn them, so what? Do you really think they'll back off just because you glare at them? They won't. This is the moment they pick a side."

Anyone with half a brain knew exactly whose side to take. They weren't idiots.

Who was about to be forced out was practically obvious.

As Marty's expression kept souring, the curve of my mouth rose higher, slow and deliberate.

Half an hour later, most of the disgusting things Marty had done had been brought into the open

I narrowed my eyes at the man across from me. His brow was knotted tight, not from guilt, but from the misery of watching his own people turn on him.

I stood, my stare steady and bright. "Uncle Marty, you win some, you lose some. Honestly, if you hadn't laid a hand on my parents back then, your position might've been even higher than it is now."

My father had always valued family. He wasn't like me. I could cut down my own uncle without blinking; he would've kept helping his younger brother.

Even if that brother didn't share his blood, once my father gave his word, he meant it.

But that kind of softness was poison to a family business, and Marty had never looked like the kind of man who deserved trust.

I looked at Marty's slack, defeated face. He wasn't remorseful. He just thought he hadn't covered his tracks well enough.

Trying to trade sincerity with someone like that was a joke.

My father, kind to a fault, had fallen right into his trap.

Maybe my father had realized something before the end, but in the end, his heart had been too soft.

If he'd taken action the moment he suspected Marty, they wouldn't have died so brutally.

And my mother—she'd been completely innocent.

Marty's choices wrecked my home, so I wasn't about to let him walk away unscathed.

But I wouldn't touch his wife or kids.

I looked at him and let the chill in my voice do the work. "While you can still move around freely, I suggest you go home and talk to your wife and children. In a few days, you might not even get the chance to see them."

Marty's mouth twisted. Just as I turned to leave, he called after me, "Damian, let's talk alone. This is family business."

As he spoke, he approached me step by step, eyes lowered, like he'd finally accepted it and only wanted a last few words.

I lifted my chin slightly, the posture of someone willing to listen.

Seeing that, Marty inhaled deeply. "Not here."

I glanced around. Everyone dropped their eyes, suddenly tense, like they were afraid to breathe.

I was on guard. There was no way I was letting him corner me in a private room.

I pointed to the chair in front of him. "Say what you have to say right here, Uncle Marty."

I stressed the last two words on purpose, and sure enough, Marty's face sank.

He grabbed my wrist, like he was afraid I'd bolt.

A long moment passed before he finally spoke in front of everyone. "This does have something to do with me, but I'm not the one who caused your parents' deaths. If you want the truth…"

"Uncle Marty, the evidence is airtight. What truth are you still trying to sell me?"

I saw what he was doing and tore right through it. "Or is your truth just you stalling, hoping you can slip away later?"

Marty's mouth jerked. I'd hit the mark.

I let out a cold laugh and walked away without looking back.

As for the share transfer, none of them knew the real reason yet.

But if they were paying attention, they would've noticed I'd already completed the transfer a long time ago.

A smile tugged at my mouth. The thought of Marty finally getting hauled in made me feel lighter than I had in years.

I'd planned to leave the company and head straight to the hospital room, but then news came in that something had happened at the docks.

Eli listened to the voice on the phone, frowning as he looked at me. "What are they saying?"

"Someone hit the docks."

I didn't have to think about who. With Marty going down, Flynn would hear about it fast. And he knew it too—my next target was him.

I looked at Eli and lowered my voice. "Bring more guys. We're going to the docks."

Eli hesitated. "Mr. Costello, what about Ms. Spencer…"

"Tell her the truth. There's no point hiding this."

Eli paused, then nodded slowly.

I checked my gun, then turned back to him. "Grab two more men and move. If Flynn's bold enough to pull this, it means I've got something on him. He's cornered, and he's gambling."

Flynn was usually ice-cold. Lately, we hadn't crossed paths once.

For him to make a move now was proof that he was scared.

And it wasn't hard to guess why. Marty was falling, and with him went Flynn's protection.

The image of Flynn unraveling almost made me laugh.

They'd killed my parents. I wasn't just going to drive them mad. I was going to force them to walk straight into their own graves.

Even that wouldn't be enough to settle what burned in my chest.

When we reached the docks, I saw Flynn at the front of his men. He stood there like he owned the place, one foot planted on a crate.

I studied him, confused despite myself.

"Long time no see, Mr. Costello."

I tilted my head, signaling for him to keep going.

He drew a breath and looked at me. "I know you've been coming after Marty. I'm guessing I'm next."

"You're not wrong." I didn't deny it. It was inevitable. If I could find Marty, I could find him.

Flynn's mouth curved into something that was almost a smile, and there was a sharp, playful glint in his eyes. He stood there for a beat, then said, "I'm curious how you figured it out, but when your life's on the line, that doesn't matter."

He patted the crate under his foot, then looked at me. "I know this shipment matters to you. So here's the deal. You let me go, you stop digging into what happened between your parents and me, and I'll give the goods back. How about it?"

I narrowed my eyes at Flynn, irritation tightening my jaw. "You're in a pretty good mood for someone who thinks he can negotiate with me."

My voice turned hard. "I'll be honest—you don't have the leverage you think you do. As for that shipment, take it if you want. I don't care."