Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 49 - 53

Chapter 49: Chapter 53

Alden POV

The iron gates creak open slowly, their wrought arms pulling apart. At the apex, the elegant ’V’ emblem splits in two as the gates yawn wide. The car glides forward, the tires crunching softly over the gravel as we pass beneath a canopy of trees, their branches arching above.

For a moment, the dense copse of trees obscures the view, shrouding the land in shadows. But as we push deeper, the forest falls away, peeling back to reveal the gentle, rolling hills of the vineyard. The sun dips low, casting golden light across the endless rows of grapevines, their neat lines stretching out like the ribs of the earth. Everything in sight that the eye permits is his.

We continue, winding past lush botanical gardens, their vivid colors blurring as the car moves swiftly. Orchards heavy with fruit stand proud under the sun, the rich scent of ripening apples and citrus carried on the breeze. And there, perched on the tallest hill, is the Colten estate, majestic and grand. The car winds its way along the hill’s narrow waist, the road curving upward, while behind us, a sweeping panorama of green unfolds—a landscape of abundance and beauty, every inch of it his. The estate crowns the hill like a monarch on its throne, surveying the vast kingdom of vineyards below.

As the car reaches the crest of the hill, it comes to a gentle stop on a broad plateau, where the grandeur of the estate looms before us. Frank pulls the vehicle to a halt beside a mountainous staircase. The Romanesque villa rises majestically, its towering Corinthian columns flanking the entrance The architecture is reminiscent of a structure Julius Caesar himself might have called home. The pale stone glows faintly in the soft light, exuding the sense of power and prestige Colton cultivates.

Frank exits the car first, his shoes crunching on the gravel as he circles around to open the back door. I step out, the cool air hitting my face, and I’m immediately greeted by the sight of two imposing guards standing at attention beside the massive Byzantine doors.

To the side, an attendant stands poised, her hands clasped gently in front of her, dressed in a crisp uniform that mirrors the outspoken luxury.

The attendant, standing statuesque, gives a small nod, silently ushering me into the foyer beyond.

As I step inside, the space engulfs me in opulence—a gaudy display of wealth that practically drips from every gilded surface. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, scattering fractured beams of light across the marble floors, while towering columns adorned with gold leaf line the room like pillars of excess.

Two guards are waiting for me at the entrance, their eyes unblinking. Without a word, I raise my hands to my head in a practiced motion, signaling my compliance. They move swiftly, one of them sweeping a security wand over my body with precise, efficient movements. The wand traces the length of my arms, across my torso, and dips down to my legs, the hum of the device cutting through the heavy silence of the room.

With a snap of a nod from one of the guards, I’m cleared to proceed. The attendant steps forward, her heels clicking lightly against the floor as she escorts me to a sleek, glass-paneled elevator. She punches in a code on a hidden keypad, the numbers flashing briefly before fading into the panel. The doors slide open with a quiet whoosh, revealing the small, polished chamber within.

With a polite gesture, she motions for me to enter but does not follow. The doors close behind me, sealing me in the cool, confined space. As the elevator descends, I can feel the weight of it—the plunge into Colton’s private underground office, the air thickening as I move deeper beneath the estate, further away from the glittering world above.

When the elevator dings into a stop. The doors glide apart and I step out into the dimly lit space with a soaring ceiling that disappears into the darkness. Colton sits ready for me at the end of the elongated breadth with an expansive wall of bookshelves behind him. I stride over, unbuttoning my suit blaze before I settle on the wingback chair with a comfortable sigh.

"Every time I come here I still get amazed—" my hand makes a small, dramatic arc, "—Colton’s castle."

He allows a humored breath, nodding rigidly. "If everything goes according to plan. You’re on track to get yourself an estate like this of your own."

My head sways from side to side, weighing in. "No, I think it’d be alot bigger. But yes—if everything goes to plan. Will it? Because of the stunt your son pulled—"

Colton raises a placating hand to interject.

I don’t allow it. "If your son wants to pull some fuckery on his own. That’s your business, but now he’s cutting into mine. What kind of game does he think he’s playing?"

"Nothing has changed," he says objectively. "The fact is you need a Vacheron—does it really matter which one?"

I concede to that fact, resting my back against the seat thoughtfully.

A cynical look carves into his features, deepening his frown lines.

"What?" I snap.

He flips up another hand before he drops it on the arm of his leather chair. "It’s just that I thought you would be more upset about what he did to your daughter. And not about it cutting into business."

"My daughter is not your concern," I say with a surprise swell of anger. I clear out the emotions in my throat. "Respectfully, my child isn’t the problem here."

Colton gives an imperial shrug like the undecided mind of a troubled king. "If I could harness that boy’s ingenuity for mischief and channel it into something constructive." He lets out a low and short whistle. "He has the potential to propel my corporation into the future."

I lift a curious brow. "I thought Vance was set to do that?"

He gives me this disappointed head shake. "He is, by no choice of my own. Vance is a carbon copy, he wants to follow in my footsteps. To be great is to make your own path not follow another’s. That’s why Landen could have the drive and cunning to pull it off—channeling his wicked tactics of blackmail and hard-nosed negotiation into securing eight-figure deals. Implode the businesses of our rivals instead of imploding the lives of those around him."

I keep attentive, quiet, allowing him to vent things he couldn’t admit to himself.

"My problem was that I was too soft on him," he says absently, propping his elbow on the arm of the chair so his hand can rub his chin thoughtfully. "When they lost their mother, I thought I had to give them space. Vance wound up tightly and Landen completely unraveled. Both of them have never been the same since and by that point—I was just too late to pick up the pieces."

His gaze drifts into nothingness, suspended in silence before reality yanks him back down.

"My apologies, I didn’t mean to offload on you like that."

I wave off his unwarranted apology. "No need, it’s not easy raising kids... trying to teach them to do right when you’re trying to learn that yourself."

His eyes spring to me. "Is that regret I hear?"

My eyes lock with his and a smile curls the end of my lips. "I may regret the methods but never the outcome. Botan Kiyosaki. It was his men that infiltrated the Governor’s property."