Chapter 57 — Voices in the Shadows (Flashback part 4)
The glass doors closed behind them with a muffled click.
The sound of Alexander and Dante's footsteps echoed in the luxurious lobby of Aeternum Industries, as if the building itself were watching them leave. That heavy silence, that cold, artificial air—everything seemed designed to intimidate.
As soon as they reached the main entrance, one of the security guards—the same one who had accompanied them there—approached. The man was tall, his expression neutral, and his gaze held something... different. As if he knew more than he should.
He stopped in front of them and said firmly:
"When we need you, we'll be in touch."
No more, no less. That's all.
Then the security guard walked away, leaving Alexander and Dante standing for a moment in the rain that was beginning to fall on New York.
Dante gave a short, nervous laugh.
"Dude... what was that?" he asked, running a hand through his wet hair. "This guy talks like we just signed a contract with the devil."
Alexander didn't answer. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and watched the city lights reflect in the puddle at his feet.
"Maybe we did," he replied, exhaling slowly.
Alexander's car cut through the waterlogged streets. The sound of tires squelching and the distant blare of sirens formed a melancholy symphony. Dante stared out the window uneasily.
"That guy..." he began. "He knew too much, Alex. He knew about the operation, about the gang... and even how we acted. No one outside the division had access to those reports."
Alexander kept his gaze fixed on the road.
"That means he has people inside."
"Inside the force?"
"Or above it." He swallowed again. "Either way, we're dealing with someone with resources, information, and power to spare."
Silence returned. The city passed by in a blur of light and shadows on the other side of the glass.
Alexander's mansion was tucked away from the city center, surrounded by trees and silence. A haven—or at least it used to be.
As soon as they entered, the sound of rain hitting the windows filled the air. Alexander took off his soaked coat, threw it on the sofa, and poured two glasses of whiskey.
Dante sat down, still trying to process everything.
"This is all wrong," he murmured. "From the beginning. That attack on the gang, the 'accident' with the informant... and now this. It's like we've been manipulated all along."
Alexander handed him the glass and leaned back.
"Manipulated, maybe. But not defeated."
"Do you still think you can fight back?"
"I don't think so. I know." Alexander's gaze hardened. "No man, no matter how powerful, is unreachable."
Dante let out a short laugh.
"You talk like it's easy."
"It never is." Alexander took a sip of whiskey. "But it's possible."
The sound of ice hitting the glass broke the silence for a few seconds. The fire in the fireplace cast shadows on the walls, distorting their faces as if the room itself were listening to their conversation.
"This guy tested us, Dante," Alexander continued. "He sent that gang to measure our actions. He wanted to see how far we'd go."
"And now what does he want?"
Alexander stared into the fire.
"Now he wants to see what we're capable of when we're caught in his web."
Dante fell silent, digesting the words. After a few moments, he set the glass down on the table and leaned forward.
"Then let's break this web."
Alexander looked at him, and for the first time that night, a faint smile appeared.
"Now you're starting to think straight."
They spent hours discussing possibilities.
Who was the man?
What was the true purpose of that organization?
And how far did their influence extend?
Alexander opened a folder full of notes, old reports, and names connected to previous operations.
"Look at this." He pointed to one of the documents. "This company, Aeternum Industries, hasn't officially existed for over five years. Its registration was terminated in 2019."
Dante arched his eyebrows.
"So the building we were in..."
"It's just a front. A shell company to cover up this organization's operations," Alexander continued. "And if we were taken there, it means they wanted us to see it. They wanted to impress us, intimidate us, maybe even seduce us with all that luxury."
Dante stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"They wanted us to believe they were untouchable."
"Exactly." Alexander lit another cigarette. "And that's where most people go wrong. When a man believes too much in his own shadow, he forgets that there's always someone willing to erase it."
Silence returned. Outside, the wind blew hard, making the windows vibrate.
"Alex," Dante said after a few seconds. "What if they really are too big for us?"
Alexander looked at him steadily.
"Then we die trying."
Dante laughed lightly, shaking his head.
"You're crazy."
"Not crazy," Alexander replied, his gaze cold. "Determined."
The night wore on, and the atmosphere inside the mansion oscillated between tension and planning. Every detail was discussed, every hypothesis written down.
They knew they were getting involved in something that could destroy their careers—perhaps even their lives. But at that moment, none of that mattered.
That organization had crossed an invisible line.
And Alexander wasn't the kind of man to let an enemy walk free after showing his claws.
Around three in the morning, Dante got up and went to the window. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still covered in clouds.
"You know there's no going back after today, right?"
Alexander, sitting at the table, simply nodded.
"Never has."
Dante turned to him, his gaze determined.
"Then so be it. Let's fight back."
Alexander took his cigarette from the ashtray, inhaled, and smirked.
"That's what I like to hear." The distant sound of thunder echoed, like a harbinger.
They were about to declare war on something they didn't fully understand—but the decision was made.
The night ended with the two plotting the beginning of the counterattack, the flame of revenge burning in their eyes and the weight of uncertainty hanging over their heads.
The organization had forcibly recruited them.
Now, Alexander and Dante intended to turn the tables.
And in the silence of that mansion, lit only by the fire still burning in the hearth, one thing became clear:
from that moment on, nothing would be the same.