Her wrists burned from the rough rope tying them. Joan stirred languidly. The inside of the trunk smelt of old oil and rusted metal, stifled and warm. Though her mouth was gagged, her subdued shouts were strong enough to resonate in her very ears. Her eyes swept what little she could see—the fuzzy edges of a crowbar, a water bottle, and a black glove.
Her pulse raced from when she ran to the hospital.
She was in the place where she was supposed to be.
Muffled outside noises, abrupt stop of the vehicle. Footsteps, reference points
There was a click and the trunk opened.
Flinching, glancing very bright.
Silhouettes against the headlights included a man in a dark suit and gloves. A ski mask covered his face. Two more guys stood next to him, taller yet bulkier.
Leaning down, the disguised one pulled off the gag with which she was covered.
"Joan screaming, we are not here to cause you... except unless Alex is disobedient."
She stared, wanting to remember the cadence, inflection, and tone of his voice. She rasped, "Why are you doing this?"
He cocked his head. "Alex was created to satisfy one, and blood has regulations."
Joan's voice broke. He has no idea what that even means!
Still, he reached into his jacket and produced a shiny black case. Inside, resting in red velvet, was a silver ring engraved with ancient marks—serpents encircled in a crown.
Joan's chest seized. Her father's history books rang familiar to her.
Once said to be under a secret society of influential men intent on changing family legacies, the Ring of Dominion.
Alex will have to put this on tonight and pledge loyalty to his father's heritage. If he refuses, everything is lost."
Joan glared. "He will not do it."
Behind his mask, the man grinned. "Love turns men stupid, but heritage? Heritage makes them compliant."
He cinched the box firmly closed.
He yelled to ready her.
The other men pulled Joan from the boot. Through a restricted route in the forest, they headed her toward an isolated cottage where red candles burned from within.
Every step she took, fear constricted her back more.
But one thing she held strong in her heart.
Alex was almost here.
In front of the cabin, Alex tires screeched to a stop.
The night was nightmarishly quiet—no wind, no crickets, only his pounded heart. Wearing the dark coat that had previously belonged to his late father, he stepped out. The red envelope in a single pocket. The other one, a blank-loaded gun—his last-minute revolt.
Though JoJo had fought for help, he still made her promise and waited for his signal. This was not just a rescue effort. It was about finally putting an end to a legacy of shadows.
Pushing open the creaking wooden door, he moved toward the cabin.
Joan knelt in the center, flicking like sentinels candles lined on the floor; her wrists were still tied and she was damaged but defiant.
Behind her stood the masked guy with the two bodyguards on either side. One of them sported a barbed wire tattoo on his neck—C.R.—cropped.
Crownlet Non-renewable.
A top rumor suggests that Matthew Swan created a secret society before his "death."
"You came," said the masked man.
"I am here. "Give her go," Alex growled.
"That depends," said the guy. "You know what you have to do."
"Swear the oath," he said, throwing the ring box at Alex's feet. Bind yourself to your father's will. Get back what was stolen. Or she will be lost.
Alex looked at the ring.
He looked at Joan, her eyes big, begging, brimming with silent confidence.
He then reached in his pocket and extracted the red envelope.
"His words I read," Alex remarked coldly. I have knowledge of the mark. The plan. The manipulation. I understand everything.
"Yet here you are."
Alex gathered the ring.
The space took on a brief vacant quality.
Turning the ring in his fingers, he checked the engravings and allowed the stillness to stretch.
He then put the ring on his finger and slipped away.
Joan yelled "No!"
Alex, however, raised his finger. I have not completed it."
One step forward, he went.
"I swear… I'm not my father."
In one swift movement, he aimed the weapon and shot at the candle next to the masked man.
That thing went up in fire and wax.
There was devastation.
The guards lunged forward. Having crossed the room, Alex headed for one of them and slammed him against the wall. Joan kicked to one side, trying to release her hands on a jagged wood piece.
Ripping under his coat, he lunged at Alex with a blade.
"You're either the inheritance or the corpse!" he yelled.
Alex dodged, turned behind him, and threw him onto the ground.
His mask dropped off.
Joan was startled.
It was not just anyone but Mr. Winston, the former business partner of the late Mr Harris.
Joan's thoughts flew along. Before the accident, her father had believed he was stealing some money. The crash, however, buried the case.
"You have dishonored our family!" she screamed.
Winston sneered and coughed blood." I completed what Matthew was too feeble to accomplish. You were never meant to make it."
Distance sirens were wailing.
The last guard ran away. Bloodied but living, Winston snarled, "This isn't over."
Eyes ice, Alex bore down on him. "It's for you."
Lightsabers flickering, police vehicles tore through the woods. JoJo stood beside one of them, weeping and pointing.
Cuffing Winston, senior staff members rushed in and carried the unconscious guard from the cabin.
Joan dropped into Alex's embrace.
"You wore the ring," she whispered. "You frightened me."".
Brushing hair from her face, he said, "I had to act." I would however never be my father. I will never be their weapon."
Joan gazed upon the ring. Will you store it?
Alex managed it and dumped it into the nearest candle's flames. It melted with soft hissing.
"Quit promising to show." No more bloodlines.
Only as dawn looked over the horizon did they step outside.
Still, the peace would not last long.
JoJo ran up with her face white.
She said gaspingly, "They found something in yet another cabin close by."
Alex glanced at her.
"A room full of documents." Pictures. DNA testing. Yours... someone else's. Editorial effort
Joan's heart fluttered.
JoJo gulped. Another heir exists. Yet one more Swan offspring."
Alex stopped turning. "That's not feasible."
JoJo shook her head. "She's a woman. And she has already been turned on."
Alex turned at the rising sun, dread settling in his bones.
Joan took his hand and pumped it.
"What does that signify?"
Alex said quietly, "This means it is not over."
A woman looked into a mirror, her eyes faintly violet across the city. Behind her shoulder, a tattoo glittered to life—an exact duplicate of Alex's lost mark.