Chapter 109 Betrayal Runs Deep

Ethan’s fingers trembled over the signature, the ink an unshakable truth staring back at him. His uncle. His own blood.

Alea's breath hitched beside him. She read the name again, as if willing it to change. It didn't.

Andra’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the table. "Your uncle put out the hit?" Her voice was low, clipped, controlled—but the fury in her eyes burned.

Ethan inhaled slowly, steadying himself. The air in the warehouse was thick, suffocating. The walls pressed in. He felt Alea's gaze on him, waiting, assessing. Luca shifted his weight beside her, but no one spoke.

Because there were no words for this.

A betrayal buried in his own bloodline.

Ethan straightened. His silence was a weapon, sharpened to precision. If he let the shock control him, he’d already lost.

He turned the paper toward Andra. “Tell me everything you know.”

She exhaled sharply, shaking off her hesitation. “Your uncle, Conrad Watson, has been moving in the shadows for years, but this?” She gestured at the contract. “This is different. This isn’t just taking the company from you. This is eliminating you completely.”

Alea’s voice was quiet, but sharp. “He wanted you dead before you could uncover this.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched.

Memories surfaced, unbidden—his uncle’s firm handshake, the carefully measured words at board meetings, the way he always spoke of legacy and power.

It had been right in front of him. And he hadn’t seen it.

Luca’s chair scraped against the floor as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “So what now? We walk into Watson Group and confront him? Ask him why he wants you six feet under?” He scoffed. “Because I doubt he’ll sit down for a heart-to-heart.”

Ethan’s lips barely moved. “No. He won’t.”

The room bristled with unspoken tension.

Alea studied him, her green eyes searching. “What are you thinking?”

Ethan’s mind moved like a machine, locking into place. “He thinks I don’t know. We use that.”

Andra nodded, catching on. “You mean—let him believe his plan is still in motion?”

Ethan’s gaze was ice. “We let him believe he’s already won.”

The Setup

The night air was cool against Ethan’s skin as he stepped onto the Watson Group’s private rooftop. The city stretched below him, its glow a sea of golden lights. From this height, everything looked small. Manageable.

But he knew better.

Alea moved beside him, her presence a quiet anchor. “Are you ready for this?”

He flexed his fingers at his sides. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alea’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Conrad won’t go down easily.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Neither will I.”

The glass doors behind them hissed open. Footsteps. Deliberate. Measured.

Ethan didn’t turn immediately. He knew who it was.

“Ethan.”

His uncle’s voice was smooth, practiced. A lifetime of deception woven into a single syllable.

Ethan turned slowly.

Conrad Watson stood before him, hands in his pockets, his suit pristine. A picture of control. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed back, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. A man who believed he was untouchable.

“Quite the view,” Conrad mused, glancing at the city. “Almost makes you forget how fragile everything is.” His eyes flicked back to Ethan, sharp as a blade. “Including legacies.”

Ethan held his gaze, unreadable. “Is that what you tell yourself before putting a bullet in family?”

A flicker. A pause so small most wouldn’t notice. But Ethan did.

Conrad chuckled, stepping closer. “Ah. So you know.” He sighed, feigning disappointment. “And here I was hoping to handle this quietly.”

Alea shifted beside Ethan, muscles tense.

Ethan’s voice was smooth, controlled. A trap waiting to be sprung. “Quiet isn’t exactly your style.”

Conrad smirked. “True.” He stepped closer, dropping the pretense. “You were never supposed to find out.”

Ethan tilted his head slightly. “And yet, here we are.”

Conrad sighed, slipping his hands from his pockets. “You always had potential, Ethan. But you were... soft.”

Alea’s jaw tightened.

Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Conrad’s voice lowered. “That’s why you’ll never win. You think loyalty makes you strong. But it makes you weak.”

Ethan exhaled slowly, his patience razor-thin. “You’re a fool if you think that.”

Conrad’s smirk widened. “No, Ethan. I’m a survivor.”

And then—a signal.

Ethan saw the flick of Conrad’s fingers. A movement meant for the shadows beyond the rooftop.

A gun clicked.

Alea reacted first.

A single, fluid motion—reaching into her jacket, twisting her body—

Ethan grabbed Conrad by the lapels, spinning him around just as the shot rang out.

Crack.

The bullet whizzed past them, embedding into the rooftop’s railing.

Chaos erupted.

Alea fired back, taking cover behind a concrete barrier. Ethan shoved Conrad forward, twisting the man’s arm behind his back.

A second shot. Then a third.

Luca’s voice crackled through Ethan’s earpiece. “I count three shooters, south side.”

Ethan shoved Conrad against the railing. Cold steel against his back.

The older man wheezed, eyes blazing. “You think you can kill me?”

Ethan’s voice was deadly quiet. “No. But I can end you.”

Alea took out the first shooter. One clean shot.

Luca’s voice came again. “Second one down. Last one’s running.”

Ethan barely registered it. His focus was on Conrad.

The older man tried to laugh, but it came out strained. “Even if you kill me, the board—”

Ethan slammed him against the railing. “The board will see the truth. Everything you’ve done. The contracts. The betrayals. You think you’ve survived this long because of power?”

He leaned in. “You’ve survived because I let you.”

Conrad’s smirk faltered.

Ethan pulled a phone from his pocket. Turned the screen to face his uncle.

A live video feed.

The Watson Group boardroom. Every member watching. Listening.

A recording played—a confession, spliced together from Conrad’s own words. The truth laid bare.

Conrad’s face drained of color.

Ethan’s voice was calm, final. “It’s over.”

Silence.

Then, the distant wail of approaching sirens.

Conrad exhaled. A man who had lost everything.

Ethan stepped back, letting the moment sink in.

Alea holstered her gun. Luca’s voice came through the earpiece. “Cops are two minutes out.”

Ethan turned away from his uncle. Didn’t spare him another glance.

This wasn’t about revenge anymore.

It was about reclaiming everything that had been stolen.