Chapter 1031: Chapter 1030
It wasn’t just a few hundred or a few thousand, nor was it a measly sum under ten grand. It was a whopping one hundred thousand dollars!
The kid in front of me looked like he was loaded.
"Cash," Fitch added.
The driver’s wife nodded, shock written all over her face, "Alright, I agree."
It wasn’t just about the money; it was more about not letting her husband’s death be in vain. If someone had really poisoned her husband, she’d go to the ends of the earth to get justice for him!
Rosemary received a text from Jones and, with a sly smile playing on her lips, made her way to the basement.
Jack was exhausted, taking a breather on the side. He hadn’t expected this tough nut to crack to be so resilient, refusing to spill even a single word no matter how hard he was pressed.
"So you’ve been serving Erik because he saved your parents back in the day, and after they passed, he took you under his wing like a godson, and that’s why you work for him?"
Stinger’s eyelids lifted as he looked at Rosemary, surprised she had figured it out so quickly.
"But what you don’t know is that your biological parents, they were killed by him."
Rosemary’s words made Stinger’s gaze freeze, clearly disbelieving.
"Years ago, when your parents were fleeing your hometown with you by boat, they were ambushed by assassins hiding onboard shortly after departure. Outnumbered, your parents were severely wounded,and you too were injured and fell unconscious. The boat had to turn back to shore."
"When you woke up, Erik told you he was a friend of your parents, said they were dead, and even showed you photos. He promised to give them a proper burial, and after the funeral, he took you to pay
your respects. Then he encouraged you to learn skills and become capable so you could one day avenge your parents’ death."
Stinger’s past played before his eyes, his normally dead gaze now flickering with emotion, stirred by the revelations.
"So, you became Erik’s puppet, doing his bidding, repaying him for saving your life and raising you."
The emotion in Stinger’s eyes turned to agitation, and he finally spoke, "You’re slandering him!"
His wrists were raw and bleeding from the rope’s cruel bite, but he seemed impervious to pain, still deluding himself with thoughts of escape.
With a swift jab, Jack landed a punishing blow to his stomach, forcing him to double over in agony, finally stilling him for a moment.
"The truth is, that grave was just a show for you. Your parents aren’t dead. Erik has them locked up, tormenting them daily. He even taunts them with photos and videos of you, calling the enemy ’Dad,’ just to punish them for leaving the organization, to twist the knife of their suffering."
Stinger couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his gaze at Rosemary laced with hate, doubt and belief.
Hate for her having his parents’ grave dug up.
Doubt because she might be sowing discord.
Belief because if it was all a lie, how could she craft such a convincing story, as if she had witnessed it all herself.
"We found someone, a witness to what happened back then," Rosemary glanced at her watch, "He’ll be here any minute."
Stinger’s eyes remained a mix of conflict and distrust.
The wait was only a few minutes, but to Stinger, it felt as long as a century.
Finally, when Jones appeared with a man in tow, all eyes snapped to the newcomer.
The man was short, barely five foot three.
He removed his mask, revealing a ghastly scar running across his face, slashing from his forehead to his left cheek, distorting his left eye into a permanent squint, giving him an asymmetrical gaze.
Pulling off his beanie, a bald patch was visible where hair refused to grow. He told Stinger that he too once tried to leave the organization, and as punishment, Erik’s men had slashed him twice there, ensuring the hair would never return. The scar on his face was a testament to their cruelty.
He had been loyal to Erik for years, thinking he was different, but anyone who tried to leave faced Erik’s merciless vengeance.
He had been stabbed multiple times and kicked off a cliff, fortunate to land in a tree. A Good Samaritan saved him, and he spent his days thereafter in hiding.
"Your parents’ accident, I was there," the man known as Blade recounted the same story Rosemary had told.
Blade produced several old photographs and tossed them to Stinger.
"These photos, I secretly took them back then for my own protection. They’re all dated," he said as he flung the pictures towards Stinger.
Some of the images would forever haunt him – the photographs of his parents, gaunt and ghostly, trapped in a dingy cellar, barely clinging to life. By the date stamped on those photos, they were still
alive when he was five, but they looked broken, their expressions twisted in a way that was nearly inhuman.
"The year you turned five, your mom had already lost her mind," Blade spoke with a tone that was both matter-of-fact and chilling. "The guards would mess with her for kicks, fooling her into eating filth and
drinking urine. Your dad was powerless to stop it, held down, forced to endure the same humiliation. By the time you were seven, in order to spare your mom from more suffering, your dad took her life, and
then his own."
Stinger never imagined that his family’s tragedy was orchestrated by Erik.
And to think he had loyally followed this man, seeing him as a father figure, doing his bidding all these years.
"I wasn’t directly involved back then; I was just by Erik’s side, watching it all unfold. I didn’t want to come forward, didn’t want to draw a target on my back. But when I heard Erik was dead, and that someone was still out there, blindly loyal to him just like I used to be. Well, I thought it was time to show my face. Of course, I got a nice little incentive for my trouble, along with a new identity. From here on, I’m set for a comfortable life."
After Blade finished his story, his gaze shifted to Jones. "I’ve told you everything I know. Am I free to go now?"
Rosemary gave Jones a subtle nod, and he promptly responded, "You have our word. You’re lucky to have dealt with our boss. She doesn’t play games; she says you get a new life, you’ll get it."
Blade looked over at Rosemary, this young woman with an aura that screamed leadership, then back to Jones, his face etched with weariness and a hint of sorrow. "You’re fortunate to have found a good leader, not everyone’s as lucky as you."
After Blade left, Stinger remained in the basement, wailing like a banshee.
Jack couldn’t take the ear-piercing, soul-tearing cries anymore, especially as Stinger knelt on the floor, clutching the photographs, pounding the ground for what seemed like an eternity.
"Look, I get that this truth is a tough pill to swallow, but this ain’t the way to handle it. Even if you punch a hole through the floor, it won’t bring your folks back. Dead is dead. Maybe you should start thinking
about revenge instead."
Jack was blunt. "My boss went to great lengths so you wouldn’t be left in the dark, spending both manpower and a pretty penny. We’re not doing this for kicks. We’ve helped you out; how about returning the favor? Spill what you know, will ya?"
"No rush," Rosemary said calmly, her gaze on the distraught man on the floor. "You can tell us when you’re ready."
She signaled for Jack to follow her out. He was confused – they were just going to leave Stinger like this? What if he did something drastic?
That evening.
Stinger’s emotions had settled, and he spoke up in a raspy voice, "I want to see your boss."
"Why?" Rosemary asked coolly from the other side of the bars.
A smirk played on Rosemary’s lips. It was indeed Serena!