Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 113 - 115

Chapter 113: Chapter 115

Botan POV

I look up at the set of posts and lintels that support the main building, boosting the large curved roof, double-tiered with coloured tiles. Memories of the sun sting my mind, recollections of my training in the sun-blasted front courtyard for hours. Haru, who watched under the slightly curved eaves that extend far beyond the walls, covering the expansive verandas.

"What do you hope to accomplish here?" Akio asks, eyeing the contingent of armed guards in a show of force to emulate the entrance of an embassy. "Slaughter your way to a confession you won’t get?"

"If I have to."

Akio pivots to look back at me fully. "These are your men as much as they are Haru’s—more so, they know you more than they know him."

Security has doubled. Preparation, I suppose. We all expect retaliation from Yad Zmei, but it had to be done. But now I’m not so sure. I sought to punish my enemies when the true preparator stood behind them all along. The lofty door is pulled open for us, and no one questions my untimed visit. Akio is my shadow, thus remains equally as untouchable.

After entering a network of hallways, we reach the place with multiple rooms that have moveable screens as interior sliding doors, consisting of wooden frames with translucent paper. Akio nods the guard out of the room. He complies and slinks out to join the others in the corridor as he slides the screen shut behind him. Haru is seated behind his ornamental writing desk, apathetic until his eyes finally flick up. Placing me as his prime priority as he sets everything aside to regard me with his solemn stare. So all-knowing. So omniscient.

"Tell me again about the truce." My tone is neutral, never betraying the thoughts bludgeoning my mind. "Tell me how you and Alden came to an accord. Over Avara, because somehow that sick fuck still cares about his daughter enough to protect her. And end the alliance."

Comprehension grips him as he straightens from unease. "He didn’t end the alliance. He just made a new one by cutting out Colton Vacheron. Sound familiar? The same thing he did to us—to me. And I did nothing, and still I do nothing because I can’t help but look at the man and only see the boy I grew up with. Blood brothers don’t choose each other. But I chose mine."

I conclude the story with a cutting laugh. "You could never be so sentimental. Not when you are so ruthless—willing to expose your operations by supplying an intimate dossier to Gianni. Knowing full well he wouldn’t have the resources to strike. But his Russian connections do. You were willing to hurt me all so you could kill her."

He doesn’t even offer me the illusion or pretense of remorse. It’s like he was already aware that I discovered his treachery against me by going after her. "Colton never broke the alliance and made a new deal with me. So that he could protect Avara, but instead what she carries," Haru reveals. "I’m calculating, not cruel—never to you. But I did what I did just like you did when you put a kill order on Alden all those years ago. Because you had the strength to do what I could not."

The reminder jerks my face to the side, but his sudden movement yanks my attention back.

He rises from his desk, sheer power pooling in his presence as he glides over to me.

"If I was as heartless as I wish I was. I would’ve killed himself back then. But still I knew, he was worth more to me alive then dead. A fact I couldn’t refute."

"And Avara?"

"I told her about your involvement in her mother’s death to inspire her to sunder her bond with you first. Since you would never do it. But I underestimated the sway she has over you. She already took from you what I feared most. I did what I did for you. Just like you did what you did for me."

I turn away and make it all of three steps before his words halt me to a standstill.

"Alden has value—Avara is a distraction and there is nothing more dangerous than a distraction," he says, unveiling his unchangeable truth.

I whip around, yanking out my gun from my waistband to blast a hole right through Haru’s forehead. The resounding gunshot like a gong met with iron. Haru drops to the floor, his desk splattered with blood and the virgin carpet beneath him flows with the growing stain of red. I didn’t just shoot him because he nearly killed Avara. I killed him because he wasn’t going to stop until he succeeded. It was an immutable certainty that he saw Avara as a threat that looms larger than our worst enemies—not their armies, weapons, but a woman.

I shift over to see Akio with animatedly enormous eyes, both hands covering his mouth. The men in the corridor and anyone in range of the gunshot start pouring in. My hand only bristles around the gun when I see Yakamoto enter, slithering past everyone like a black serpent. His eyes dart to his dead master, then it rises slowly to look into the eyes of the prodigy he once trained. I surrender, disassembling the gun and chucking the parts on the ground that land with a muffled thud.

I have nothing left to live for.

Avara is safe, and that has always been enough for me.

Yakamoto comes close to lean in so his face is almost aligned with my own. "My true name is Iksamu," he whispers into my ear.

My eyes swell as he withdraws, and I know exactly why he revealed that to me. He lowers to his knees and bows his head in deference. The others all follow suit, rippling down to their knees in a wave of veneration with their faces bowed to the floor, including Akio as I stand towering over them with Haru’s corpse still behind me.

***

Avara POV

I knock on the door of the hotel room. Shortly, Simon opens up, and I barely have time to make it through the threshold before he engulfs me in his embrace. The warmth of a fire wraps around my form as I ease into him, nestled against his chest like a leaf toiling in the wind that finally finds rest on the forest floor. He pulls away to usher me inside and closes the door behind us.

I stroll deeper inside the modest size hotel room, open floor concept with a modern kitchen and a white and beige lounge with luxury finishings. The floor-to-ceiling windows are framed with cream drapings, complimenting the gold accents in the fixtures and furnishing.

"Side jobs have been very lucrative, I see," I comment, turning to face him with a smile. "I think I prefer your caravan."

"Wanted you to have somewhere nice to be—besides, I’m making repairs—renovations," he amends quickly, awkwardly, like he’s nervous. He scratches his head, and a wisp of hair cascades down the one side of his face. "I just... missed you more this time."

He doesn’t know about the shooting. No one does. So I tell him everything. Close to everything.

"And your little souvenirs came in handy," I continue. "Long story short, I got his little confession on tape, Vance Vacheron admitting that his father deals in human trafficking."

Although avid, Simon also looks like he needs to sit down. "And he just told you this openly?" he asks cynically.

"No, there was quite a dramatic buildup that led to that," I say cryptically, lending no leeway to widen the gap to delve into the topic further. "He gave a brief but comprehensive overview of the truth of Vacheron Enterprises. Truthfully, it won’t do anything to him, not directly."

Simon shakes his head absently. "It doesn’t have to," he interjects with theories clamouring behind his eyes. "Because it will cause doubt. The mere allegation will court chaos. And with that much heat on him, stock prices will plummet, making his corporate investors flee. Not to mention the criminal organisations that he supplies. They won’t want to touch him once he makes breaking news."

I nod fervently.

"And you have this recorded?" he asks again, excitement lining his tone. "His own son admitting to it?"

My head stills, and I look away momentarily. "I did," I correct. "I confronted my brothers about it. I needed to know if they knew if Vacheron was dirty. And how deep in the dirt they were because of our father. I needed to know, even though... I kinda already knew the answer. I just couldn’t accept it. Still don’t, really. The signs were always there. I just couldn’t identify them because I didn’t know what I was looking for or what I needed to look out for. Why would I?" I let out a humourless laugh. "I idolized him."

Feeling stripped of layers, I can feel Simon’s eyes dissect me in an analytical way. I look up and he examines me closely as his eyes locate the bandage peeking out from under the end of my long sleeve. A single tug conceals it and his eyes fly back to mine with a look of quiet intensity.

"They confiscated the device."

Simon deflates, freeing a defeated sigh, long and harsh.

"Not before I was able to send myself a digital copy."

His eyes spark with surprise. "And you brought this to me, why?"

"You said you had a contact in the CIA or whatever." Hesitation snatches my voice before I force the words out. "This can maybe be the start of building a case."

"Even though your father’s alliance with Colton has ended. Digging into Vacheron could lead us right to your father."

"We’ll cross that bridge when we get there," I say, mulling it over again as the thought of it has laid waste to my mind as I wade through the neural wreckage. "Despite everything, I’m doing this for family. You know, my brothers and I have served him without question, without limit for our whole lives. And he has just been serving himself. That I can ignore, but what I can’t is my brothers, and I getting caught up in his mess. Whatever my brothers have done—they did it because of him. And me..." Tears form behind my eyes and I blink them away fast. "I’ve done things that I should’ve never done all in the name of family... and in the name of our father."

Simon stares at me for a long while and this stretchy smile starts inching across his face creepily.

"What... why are you looking at me like that?"

"A tragically wonderful irony," he notes. "Alden Du Pont being undone by his most devoted."