Chapter 156: A Father’s Mask 2

Micah’s POV

The air inside the underground bunker was thick with terror.

Dozens of kidnapped students were huddled together in the corners, their shivering bodies pressed flat against the concrete. Every tiny sound... the squeak of a boot, the clink of a rifle sling, a distant cough... sent a violent wave of panic rippling through the room.

Nobody spoke above a whisper. The only thing they talked about, in broken, sobbing murmurs, was the man in the dark suit.

The boss.

Sunny had warned me about him. He was the figure every hostage feared above all else. He wore a tailored navy suit and an ornate porcelain mask that hid his face, walking through the bunker like an executioner inspecting cattle before slaughter. The guards treated him like a god. And according to Sunny, as long as he was inside this facility, the guards kept their hands to themselves.

The moment he left at midnight, the guards turned into rabid beasts.

I sat beside Sunny on the cold dirt, staring fixedly at the heavy blast doors at the far end of the bunker. I didn’t need to guess who the masked man was. I knew the cut of that navy suit. I knew the broad shoulders.

It was Bernard Miller. My father.

CLANG.

The heavy hydraulic locks hissed, and the steel blast doors groaned open.

The entire bunker went dead silent. Even the girl who had been crying nonstop in the corner choked on her breath, slapping both hands over her mouth.

A tall man stepped into the yellow light. He was dressed in an immaculate dark navy suit, his black leather shoes polished to a mirror shine. Covering the upper half of his face was a smooth, bone-white mask, revealing only his cold, rigid jawline.

Four armed guards flanked him, keeping their weapons pointed toward the floor, their heads bowed in submission.

The masked man walked down the center aisle. He didn’t look at the sobbing track athletes. He didn’t look at the collegiate boxers curled on the floor.

His eyes locked straight onto me.

He stopped five paces away, raised a gloved hand, and pointed a single finger directly at my chest.

"You," his deep, muffled voice commanded. "Follow me."

Beside me, Sunny gasped, her fingers clutching desperately at the sleeve of my sweater. I gently pulled my arm free, giving her hand a tight, reassuring squeeze before pushing myself up onto my feet.

Two guards stepped forward. One of them pulled a serrated pocketknife from his tactical vest, sliced through the nylon cords binding my wrists, and stepped aside without roughing me up.

"Move," the guard muttered.

I rubbed my chafed wrists, keeping my chin raised as I followed the masked figure down a narrow, brightly lit concrete corridor.

We reached a heavy steel door marked COMMAND SUITE.

The man pushed the door open and stepped inside. I followed him into a soundproofed, modern office outfitted with glowing surveillance monitors, leather armchairs, and a polished mahogany desk.

The door clicked shut behind me, locking out the guards.

The man reached up with both hands, unbuckled the leather straps behind his head, and pulled off the white porcelain mask.

He tossed the mask onto the mahogany desk with a dull clatter.

Bernard Miller stood before me, his dark hair neatly parted, his cold grey eyes studying my face with an unsettling, calm affection.

"Sit down, Micah," Bernard said, gesturing smoothly toward the leather armchair in front of his desk. "You must be starving."

Sitting in the center of the desk was a warm cardboard takeout box. The smell of roasted chicken, garlic, and seasoned potato wedges filled the room.

A wave of pure disgust washed over me.

"I am not sitting down," I snarled, my voice shaking with raw, furious hatred. "And I am not eating your damn food!"

Bernard didn’t flinch. He walked around the desk, sat comfortably in his high-backed leather executive chair, and steepled his fingers over his chest.

"Do not raise your voice at me, son," Bernard said mildly. "I brought you in here so you could eat in peace. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while you are under my protection."

"Your protection?!" A bitter, hysterical laugh tore out of my throat. "You kidnapped me! You had your thugs smash the back of my head in the lock room entrance! You threw me into the back of a cargo truck like garbage!"

"That was for your own safety," Bernard replied without hesitation, his tone chillingly reasonable. "The arena was compromised. The city is a battlefield right now, Micah. With George Jenson’s father and the municipal board panicking over the abductions, you were vulnerable out there. Here, inside this facility, you are entirely safe."

"Safe?!" I screamed, taking an aggressive step toward the desk. "You have dozens of innocent students locked in an underground bunker! Sunny is out there shaking in terror! You’re holding them hostage! How could you do this?! How could you be this sick?!"

Bernard’s expression didn’t change. He looked at me with the tired patience of a parent dealing with a throwing-a-tantrum toddler.

"Lower your voice," Bernard commanded quietly. "What happens to those children is politics. It is power. It is none of your concern. You are my son, Micah. You are the only person in this city who matters to me."

He reached out, sliding the box of chicken and chips across the mahogany wood until it rested at the edge of the desk.

"Eat," Bernard insisted. "Keep your strength up. Because once Noah is gone, you and I can finally resume our lives as father and son without his toxic poison."

I froze.

The breath locked dead in my lungs.

Every drop of blood drained from my face until my vision spun with cold static.

"What... what did you just say?" I whispered, my voice cracking into pieces. "What do you mean, ’once Noah is gone’?"

Bernard picked up a gold pen from his desk, turning it over between his knuckles.

"It means exactly what it sounds like, Micah," Bernard answered, his voice dropping into a pit of bottomless ice. "Noah is a dangerous cancer. A feral dog born from an extinct bloodline. He was supposed to die years ago when the Whitfield estate burned to the ground. Keeping him alive under my roof was the biggest mistake of my life."

Bernard looked up, his grey eyes piercing straight through my soul.

"The syndicate has mobilized their primary hit squads tonight. They are tracking his movements right now. By sunrise tomorrow, Noah Miller will be dead. And you will never have to live in his violent shadow again."

A violent inferno exploded inside my chest.

Noah.

Bernard was sending an army of killers to slaughter my brother while Noah thought he was coming here to rescue me.

"You bastard!" I roared, throwing all my weight forward and slamming both of my hands down on the mahogany desk. "You touch a single hair on his head and I swear to God I will kill you myself!"

CRACK!

A brutal, heavy blow smashed across the side of my face.

Bernard had moved with terrifying speed. His open palm caught me across the cheek with enough force to snap my neck sideways.

The momentum knocked my feet out from under me. I crashed hard against the paneled wall, sliding down to the carpet, gasping for air. A sharp, throbbing fire blossomed across my cheekbone, and the warm, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth from my split lip.

Bernard stood over me, his towering shadow swallowing me whole.

The calm, fatherly mask was completely gone. His face was twisted into an ugly, violent snarl, his fists clenched tight at his sides.

"Do not test my patience, boy," Bernard hissed, his voice trembling with dark, unhinged venom. "You exist in this world only because I allow it. You draw breath every single day only because you wear the exact face of the woman I loved! Do not ever speak to me about that Whitfield stray again!"

Bernard leaned down, grabbing the cardboard food box off the desk and violently thrusting it into my lap.

"Eat the food and go back to the holding area," Bernard spat, turning on his heel toward the door. "Do not ask another question. I have a midnight assembly with the syndicate council. By the time I return in the morning, this city will belong to us."

He picked up his white porcelain mask, strapped it securely over his face, and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

The lock clicked on the other side.

I sat on the carpet, trembling violently, hot tears burning tracks down my face. I brought the back of my hand up, wiping the smear of red blood from my split lip.

My phone was gone. I had no radio. I had no weapons. I had zero ways of reaching Noah to warn him that Bernard was orchestrating an ambush to wipe him out tonight.

Noah was driving straight into a slaughterhouse.

I stared at the blood on my hand, my fingers slowly curling into tight, shaking fists.

No.

I couldn’t just sit here crying like a helpless victim anymore. I couldn’t let Noah bleed to death for me again. Noah had taken a bullet in his ribs for me. Damon had torn the skin off his hands catching me from that falling ledge.

I refused to be useless. I was going to save my brother at all costs.

I pushed myself up from the floor, grabbed the heavy box of roasted chicken and chips, and pushed the office door open. The guards outside didn’t stop me; they just stepped aside, allowing me to walk back down the corridor toward the subterranean bunker.

When I stepped back onto the dirt floor of the holding area, dozens of wide, hollow eyes locked onto me.

Their eyes dropped to the steaming box in my hands. The rich smell of food drifted through the damp air, and several starving athletes swallowed hard, their stomachs audibly growling.

I walked straight over to the dark corner where Sunny was sitting with three other girls.

I dropped to my knees and opened the cardboard box.

"Eat," I whispered urgently, pulling out two large pieces of roasted chicken and handing them directly to Sunny. "Take it. Everyone, take some. Eat quickly."

Sunny stared at the hot food in disbelief, her hands trembling as she took the meat. "Micah... where on earth did you get this?"

"The office was empty," I lied smoothly, keeping my voice steady. "The guards were distracted. I stole it off the counter while nobody was looking."

Sunny didn’t question me further. She tore into the food with ravenous hunger, passing pieces of chicken and handfuls of seasoned potatoes to the terrified students beside her.

As they ate, I leaned in close to Sunny, lowering my voice so only the group around us could hear.

"Listen to me carefully," I murmured, my eyes darting toward the far blast doors. "We need a plan to escape. Tonight."

Sunny stopped chewing, her eyes wide with shock. "Escape? Micah, are you crazy? How can we escape from an underground bunker?"

"Noah and Damon are coming for me," I said with fierce, absolute conviction. "I know they are. But they can’t fight everyone alone. There are more than twenty armed guards in this building, and my fat— I mean, the boss would probably be setting a trap for them. When the breach happens, we can’t just sit here waiting to be saved. We have to create chaos. We have to fight back and help them take the doors."

"Micah..." Sunny whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again as she shook her head in despair. "Nobody can fight these men. You don’t know what they do..."

Suddenly—

CLACK.

A loud, heavy mechanical switch echoed through the concrete walls.

Every single overhead fluorescent bulb in the bunker died simultaneously.

The entire room plunged into pitch-black, suffocating darkness.

Gasps of pure, unadulterated terror tore through the crowd.

"What—"

Before I could finish the word, an ice-cold, trembling hand slammed violently over my mouth!

Sunny’s fingers dug into my cheeks, dragging my head down toward the dirt floor.

Around us, the sound of dozens of bodies scrambling in the dark filled the room. Students were whimpering, dragging themselves backward against the freezing concrete walls, trying to make themselves as small and invisible as possible.

I pulled Sunny’s wrist slightly, whispering beneath her fingers in the pitch black.

"What’s happening, Sunny?"

Sunny leaned forward, her chest heaving against my shoulder, her trembling lips pressing right against my ear as she choked out a terrifying whisper.

"It’s midnight. They’ve arrived!"