Chapter 124

Chapter 124
The engine ticked as it cooled beneath the hood, the familiar soft sound echoing in the quiet of the private driveway. Victor, sat in the driver's seat, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. Afternoon light spilled through the windshield, warm but irritating, settling along the creases of the skin he no longer recognized in the mirror. Years had changed him. Loss had stripped him. And the weight of the life he once commanded sat like a ghost in the back of his throat.

He scanned the area first. That habit… that instinct… that paranoia… it had never left him. His gaze moved across the front steps, the trimmed bushes, the narrow stretch of fence separating the house from the next property. No movement. No lingering shadows. No listening ears.

Only when he was absolutely sure he was alone did he reach for the phone inside his breast pocket.

He dialed a number he had memorized long ago—Justin’s. The number of the only man alive who knew who he truly was. The razor edge of his survival.

The ringing dragged.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

Victor’s jaw ticked.

Four... finally, a click.

“What?” Justin’s voice came through the speaker, low and uninterested, like Victor was a man interrupting his dinner rather than an accomplice— no, a partner in crime.

Victor swallowed the irritation, flattening his tone into something calm and controlled.

“He found it,” Victor said. “The camera. Jace found the secret camera.”

On the other end, there was no gasp. No surprise. Not even a pause.

Justin chuckled.

“Good for him.”

Victor stiffened, fingers pressing into the steering wheel. “You do not seem concerned.”

“Why should I be?” Justin replied, light, almost bored. “We already got what we wanted.”

The words tasted bitter to Victor.
Justin always spoke like this, very cool and dismissive, as though the chaos they orchestrated was nothing more than a passing nuisance.

“And what you wanted,” Victor said slowly, “was the money. Which Elias paid. You made sure of that. You got the transfer confirmation.”

“Yes.” Justin hummed. “And a lovely sum it was. Enough to ensure that Jace’s little… indiscretion… won’t be handed to the public.”

Victor frowned. “Then tell me something.”

Justin’s hum sharpened. “Go on.”

“Why,” Victor said, each word deliberate, “did you blackmail Elias with the video instead of Jace? That was not the plan.”

A brief silence.

Then Justin laughed. A full, mocking, amused laugh that scraped against Victor’s patience like sandpaper.

“Oh, Victor,” Justin breathed. “You really do not understand, do you?”

Victor’s jaw locked. “Explain.”

“You wanted to break Jace,” Justin said. “I wanted to break both.”

Victor’s fingers curled until his nails pressed half-moons into his palm.

Justin continued, “Sending the sex video to Jace would have scared him. Sure. Would have shaken him. But sending it to Elias?” Justin let the moment breathe. “That hurts Jace more.”

Victor blinked once. Slowly.

“You are… intentionally twisting the knife between them.”

“Exactly.” Justin’s grin could be heard over the phone. “Elias seeing Jace with Morgan...Elias watching it? Elias, knowing it was not just cheating but recorded?” Justin chuckled. “That ruins the marriage faster. And when the marriage breaks, Jace breaks. And when Jace breaks, Elias breaks.”

Victor shut his eyes, anger stirring in his gut like poison. “This is not what we agreed on. You were supposed to blackmail Jace directly—”

“Victor,” Justin interrupted, his voice sharp enough to slice. “I sent it to the person it would destroy most. That’s all.”

Victor’s voice dropped, quiet but lethal. “You changed the plan.”

Justin tutted. “Plans evolve.”

Victor inhaled through his nose, slow and tense. He had always been the one who strategized. The one who evaluated consequences thirty steps ahead. The one who manipulated with precision. He did not like unpredictability, not in business, not in power, and certainly not in partnerships built on shared destruction.

He swallowed his irritation. There were other priorities.

“Speaking of the money,” Victor said, “I have yet to receive my share.”

A beat of silence.
The shift in Justin’s voice was immediate.

Gone was the laughter.
Gone was the amusement.
What replaced it was something cold and heavy.

“Your share?” Justin repeated.

Victor stiffened. Something was wrong.

“Yes,” Victor said. “I upheld my end. I placed the camera. I monitored Jace’s movements. I ensured access to—”

“You should be lucky,” Justin cut in, voice dropping to a dangerous calm, “that you are still alive.”

Heat rose to Victor’s face immediately—rage.

“Excuse me?” Victor hissed.

“Oh please,” Justin said, the disdain dripping. “Let’s not rewrite history. When you were rich....when you were powerful....when you sat at the top of Crane Corp and thought you were untouchable....you tried to kill me.”

Victor’s breath froze.

“You tried to kill me,” Justin repeated, “to hide the fact that you killed Jace’s parents.”

Victor’s grip on the phone tightened, knuckles whitening. “That wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie,” Justin snapped, dropping the façade of politeness entirely. “You tried.... You failed...And now look at you.”

Victor’s pulse hammered at his temples.

“Driving the son of the people you murdered,” Justin continued dryly. “Hiding under a fake name..... Begging for scraps..... Begging for money.”

Victor’s nostrils flared. “This was not part of the deal!”

“Oh, Victor,” Justin said softly, almost gently, which somehow made it worse. “Nothing is ever part of the deal when the person you are dealing with remembers that you tried to end their life.”

Victor leaned forward in the seat, clutching the phone so hard the plastic strained. “You owe me that money.”

“I owe you nothing,” Justin corrected. “I kept you alive. That is your payment.”

Victor opened his mouth, fury exploding inside him—

But Justin had already ended the call.

The beeping tone filled the silent car.

Victor stared at the phone and slowly, very slowly, he set it down.

For a long moment, he did not move. Rage boiling within him.

Justin had hung up on him.

Justin.

A man who once would not have dared raise his voice to him. A man who once could not stand in the same room without trembling. A man who once bowed his head, eyes down, waiting for orders.

Victor’s chest rose and this time it was not with breath.

It was with rage.

Pure, old, familiar rage.
The kind that heated his blood and sharpened his thoughts.
The kind he remembered from the days he commanded, the days he ruled, the days he owned every room he walked into.

Justin had forgotten who he was speaking to.

Justin had forgotten the name Crane.

Victor inhaled shakily, the anger simmering beneath his ribs.

He looked around the empty driveway. Nobody was close. Nobody was watching.

He needed time.
He needed a plan.
He needed to remember what he once was.

“Victor Crane,” he murmured to himself, the name sounding foreign and yet deliciously powerful on his tongue, “does not get humiliated.”

Victor tapped his fingers lightly against the wheel.

“Yes,” he murmured, voice low and vicious in the quiet car. “I must do something about Justin.”​