novelraw Chapter 256: All fronts!!!
Chapter 256: All fronts!!!
Corbin Mordecai had always lived in the shadow of a name that was not his.
As the only son of Jax Mordecai, the expectations placed upon him were enormous, yet the recognition he received was always... incomplete. While Jax controlled the vast network of weapons manufacturing and supply, Corbin was entrusted with everything else. Trade, finance, education, medical ventures, investments across cities and borders. He handled the silent arteries of the Mordecai empire, the systems that kept the wealth flowing endlessly.
On paper, he was indispensable.
In reality, he was replaceable in the eyes of those who mattered.
After Marlove’s death, things had shifted.
Kyle Sterling began visiting more often, a boy who did not belong to the Mordecai bloodline, yet was treated as if he did. Rowan adored him, seeing in him the last piece of his daughter. Jax, too, favored Kyle, openly at times, subtly at others, but enough for Corbin to notice.
Enough for Corbin to understand.
He watched.
He learned.
He endured.
Kyle was brilliant, dangerous, and ambitious to the point of madness. He stepped into illegal dealings with ease, expanding influence into places even Mordecai avoided openly. Power fascinated him, consumed him, and Corbin knew... that path never ended well.
Yet despite everything, Kyle was always placed above him.
Not in words.
But in actions.
Deep inside, Corbin hated him.
Not with rage, but with something colder.
Acceptance.
Because he understood one truth very clearly.
Kyle Sterling... was still a Sterling.
And no matter what Corbin did, he could never replace that blood in his own family.
So he smiled.
He played his role.
And waited.
Then came the day everything changed.
Kyle disappeared.
Vanished along with his father.
For the world, it was confusion.
For Corbin... it was relief.
The happiest thing that had happened to him in years.
Because he knew exactly what Kyle had been involved in. The illegal dealings, the reckless expansions, the dangerous experiments. Kyle had gone too far. Too exposed. Too unstable.
Corbin had always known.
One day, someone would come for him.
That day had arrived.
...
At night, Corbin sat alone in his drawing room, the faint glow of his laptop reflecting in his eyes. The room was silent, the kind of silence that came with power and isolation.
His fingers moved steadily across the keyboard, reviewing reports, shifting assets, managing numbers that could move entire markets.
A notification appeared.
A message.
He paused.
The screen displayed a single line.
"She took care of them. One is running away. Waiting for your order."
Corbin leaned back slightly, a slow smile forming on his face.
His fingers moved again.
"Take him out. Do not let him contact father."
The reply came instantly.
"Roger."
Corbin closed the message.
His expression returned to calm.
As if nothing had happened.
...
Hours later.
Norway.
The cold air cut through the quiet landscape as a man stood near a large window, his reflection faint against the glass. A spider web tattoo stretched across his neck, its design intricate and ominous.
Bjørn - Thea’s adoptive father..
His phone was pressed against his ear, his voice steady but commanding.
"I told them not to make stupid mistakes."
There was a brief silence as he listened.
"The locals they hired failed. That is expected."
His gaze shifted toward the dark horizon.
"Whatever the situation is now... they are our oldest clients. We will take over from here."
His tone grew sharper.
"I will be busy this month. Inform the Princess to handle the situation."
A pause.
"And tell her this is her chance to fix the mistake she made during Kyle Sterling’s case."
His fingers tapped lightly against the glass.
"We stopped investigating back then because Kyle himself was a client."
His voice lowered.
"But now... there is a different client."
A faint smirk appeared.
"They want Kyle back."
The man on the other end responded respectfully.
"I understand, Your Majesty."
The call ended.
Bjørn lowered the phone slowly.
Footsteps approached behind him.
Astrid entered the room, her presence calm yet perceptive.
"What is it, dear? Are you troubling her again?"
Bjørn did not turn immediately.
"Troubling?"
He let out a quiet breath.
"There are many things she still has to learn."
He finally looked at her.
"Before I can trust her with everything."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"A single mistake from us... is never small."
His voice carried weight.
"It is always fatal."
...
Next morning.
Star Harbor.
The city was already awake, its rhythm steady as Miles drove through the streets, his car moving smoothly between lanes.
The calm of the morning did not match the storm building elsewhere.
His phone rang.
The dashboard display lit up.
Luna.
Miles answered immediately.
"Luna?"
For a second, there was nothing.
Then...
Heavy breathing.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
His expression changed instantly.
He pulled the car to the side, stopping without hesitation.
"Luna... are you okay?"
Her voice came through, strained.
"I... I got attacked..."
Miles’s eyes sharpened.
"Where are you?"
"At my apartment."
Her breathing was uneven.
"A few men barged in last night. I handled them... but one escaped..."
She struggled slightly.
"I am injured."
Miles’s voice turned firm.
"Stay where you are."
His fingers moved quickly across his phone, sending out a message.
"I am sending help."
There was a brief silence on the line, filled only with her breathing.
"Help is on the way. Can you hold on?"
"I... think I can..."
Miles leaned back slightly, his voice steady, controlled.
"Stay with me."
A pause.
"Do not hang up."
He kept his tone calm.
"Just keep talking to me."
Because he knew...
If she stopped talking... things could get worse.
.....
The response team reached Luna’s apartment within minutes of Miles’s call. By the time they arrived, the scene was already under control, but the aftermath told its own story. Broken furniture, signs of struggle, blood marks that had not yet dried. Luna was conscious, barely holding on, her strength fading as the adrenaline wore off. They moved quickly, stabilizing her and rushing her to the hospital.
...
Miles sat in his office, the screen in front of him displaying a live video call.
Silvey stood in a hospital corridor, the white lights reflecting off the polished floor, nurses moving in the background. Her expression was tense, her usual composure shaken.
Miles spoke first.
"The last man was found dead a few blocks away."
Silvey frowned.
"Dead?"
Miles nodded slightly.
"Shot from a long distance. Clean hit."
Silvey’s eyes narrowed.
"So someone eliminated him... before we could reach him."
Miles leaned back in his chair, his fingers resting lightly against the armrest.
"Someone is removing evidence."
Silvey exhaled slowly.
"Could it be them?"
Miles did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked slightly to the side, his thoughts aligning.
"I spoke with your grandfather."
His gaze returned to the screen.
"And I can confirm... the Mordecai family is behind the attack."
Silvey’s expression hardened.
"They knew about Luna."
Miles nodded.
"She worked with Kyle before. That connection alone makes her a target."
Silvey crossed her arms unconsciously, her voice quieter now.
"So they are getting closer."
Miles shook his head faintly.
"Not exactly."
His tone carried calm confidence.
"I am engaging Jax from multiple fronts."
A slight pause.
"He does not know... that I am the one pulling the strings."
Silvey looked at him carefully.
"Please be careful, brother."
Her voice carried genuine concern.
"They are not simple people."
Miles’s expression remained steady.
"I will handle it."
He softened slightly.
"Focus on Luna. Call me if you need anything."
Silvey nodded.
"I will."
The call ended.
The screen went dark.
Silence filled the office.
For a moment, Miles sat still.
Then his hand slowly tightened into a fist.
An image flashed in his mind.
His grandfather.
Lying still.
Breathing, yet unreachable.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years stolen.
His eyes darkened.
He picked up his phone and dialed.
The call connected instantly.
"Sir?"
Miles’s voice was low.
Cold.
"Make sure Rowan Mordecai... falls tonight."
There was no hesitation on the other side.
"I will take care of it, sir."
The call ended.
...
Vespera.
Jax walked through the corridors of his weapons manufacturing facility with heavy steps, his anger barely contained. Screens around the office displayed breaking news from Citadel City, the report of a dead man found on the streets repeating again and again.
None of his men were answering.
His calls went unanswered.
His patience snapped further with each second.
"Damn it."
His voice echoed sharply.
"I should have handed this to the Web from the beginning."
He entered his office, his jaw clenched, frustration visible in every movement.
A knock came at the door.
His assistant stepped in carefully.
"Sir... the guests are here."
Jax stopped.
He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down.
His hand adjusted his coat.
His posture straightened.
The anger disappeared from his face, replaced by calculated composure.
"Send them in."
He stepped out of his office.
And there she was.
Aveline Chevalier.
She stood at the center, surrounded by a small group of her own people, her presence commanding without effort. Her long dark hair fell neatly over her shoulders, her sharp features carrying both elegance and danger. Her eyes held a cold intelligence, the kind that measured lives as numbers. Her attire was refined, almost aristocratic, yet there was something in her stance that spoke of destruction rather than grace.
The infamous Disaster Maiden.
A name whispered across continents.
A name tied to wars, massacres, and chaos.
Wanted by Interpol.
And yet, standing here... as a guest.
Jax approached her, a controlled smile on his face.
"Miss Aveline. Long time."
Aveline’s lips curved slightly.
"Mr. Jax."
Her voice was smooth, almost pleasant.
"We always meet when business becomes interesting."
Her eyes glinted faintly.
"When you mentioned a new weapon... something capable of destruction on a different level... I could not resist."
Jax gestured toward the inner section of the facility.
"Then you came to the right place."
His tone carried confidence again.
"Let me show you."
They walked together, deeper into the restricted area.
The doors opened.
The lab revealed itself.
Bright white lights.
Glass chambers.
Medical equipment humming softly.
Rows of test subjects lying on beds, their bodies weak, their condition deteriorating visibly.
Jax stepped forward.
"This... is the future."
He signaled one of the staff.
A demonstration began.
A controlled dose was administered.
The effects followed.
Slow.
Precise.
Devastating.
Organs began failing gradually, the subject’s condition worsening without any visible trace of what caused it.
Aveline watched closely.
Her expression did not show shock.
Only fascination.
Only calculation.
A slow smile appeared on her lips.
"This..."
Her voice carried quiet excitement.
"Is perfect."
Her mind was already moving ahead.
Factories.
Cities.
Crowds.
Thousands of lives.
And how easily they could disappear.
Inside that room... a deal was not just being discussed.
A catastrophe was being designed.