CHAPTER THREE: Smoke and Strings

By morning, Jason Walker was a national sensation.

The image of him sitting shirtless in a Miami holding cell bruised, smirking, defiant had gone viral.

It started as a tabloid whisper: Illegitimate billionaire son arrested in violent outburst. But by noon, major networks had picked it up. And by 2 PM, it was everywhere on morning shows, financial news panels, YouTube breakdowns, TikTok edits, and I*******m reels.

BREAKING: Jason Walker, Illegitimate Son of Tech Titan Richard Walker, Arrested in Public Altercation!

Was He High? Drunk? Or Just Reckless?

Walker Family Scandal Blows Open Again!

Andrew was seated in the office of Chief Morales, the Miami Police Department’s long-standing and now visibly sweating figurehead.

“Mr. Walker,” Morales stammered, trying to sound in control as he gestured to a leather chair. “I…..please, have a seat.”

Andrew didn’t sit.

“I assume you’ve seen the footage?” he asked coolly.

“I have. And let me just say this is a huge misunderstanding. I’ve already launched an internal…..”

“I don’t want your panic,” Andrew said, voice sharp as a scalpel. “I want actions. Who exactly arrested my brother?”

The Chief blinked. “A Detective Moore. Leah Moore. And Captain Harold Grant signed off on the charges.”

Andrew turned away, hiding a smile.

“Bring them in.”

Ten minutes later, Leah stood in the center of the Chief’s office, eyes hard, jaw set. Captain Harold stood beside her like a weathered statue.

Chief Morales, suddenly emboldened by Andrew’s presence, exploded.

“What the hell were you two thinking?! Arresting the son of Richard Walker without confirmation? Without protocol? This could tank our entire department’s credibility!”

“We had reason to believe…..” Harold began.

“He was interfering with an arrest,” Leah cut in, unapologetic. “We didn’t know who he was. And frankly, it shouldn’t have mattered.”

Andrew turned to her, finally speaking. “Your job, Detective Moore, is not to create headlines. It's to enforce the law.”

She didn’t flinch. “That’s exactly what I was doing.”

Suddenly, a junior officer rushed in, phone in hand, face pale.

“Sir... you need to see this.”

He tapped a screen, and all eyes turned to the TV again.

This time, the headline read:

UPDATE: Jason Walker Apprehends Notorious Fugitive Alexei Duarte During Miami Mall Altercation.

They watched in stunned silence as grainy cellphone footage played: Jason lunging at a man pulling a concealed weapon, tackling him with brutal efficiency.

“Alexei Duarte, wanted for three counts of armed robbery and linked to two recent homicides, was taken into custody moments later.”

“Police confirm: Jason Walker’s intervention prevented what could have been a mass shooting.”

Silence.

The Chief sat down like someone had pulled the floor out from under him.

“Dear God…”

Andrew, however, remained unfazed. He stepped closer to the TV and smiled faintly, like a man watching his enemy win one battle in a war he'd already rigged.

Chief Morales looked at him helplessly. “Mr. Walker, we….obviously we had no idea. This changes everything. The mayor’s office just called to ask if we’re giving him a medal or an apology.”

Andrew folded his arms. “Both, I imagine.”

Morales turned to Leah and Harold. “You two you better pray we can spin this. Or you’ll be directing traffic in Over town by Friday.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “Actually… I have a suggestion.”

All eyes turned to him.

“Let’s issue a statement,” he said. “One that explains everything. Jason Walker was working undercover with the Miami Police Department on a quiet initiative. Something community-driven, off the books.”

Harold frowned. “That’s not true.”

Andrew shrugged. “Who’s going to check?”

Leah narrowed her eyes. “You want us to lie to protect your family's name.”

Andrew met her gaze. “No. I want to protect Jason. He saved lives. This gives your department a win, and gives him... direction.”

The Chief nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes. It’s genius. We save face, the public gets a hero, and the narrative shifts in our favor.”

Leah shook her head in disbelief. “And Jason? What does he get?”

Andrew smiled like a snake. “Purpose.”

Captain Harold stepped forward, voice low. “And what do you get, Andrew?”

Andrew’s smile didn’t waver. “Time.”

He turned back to the Chief. “Make the announcement tonight. And let’s keep Jason busy. Press, public appearances... you know, the whole ‘rags-to-redemption’ story. Meanwhile, I’ll keep things steady at the company. Give my father one less thing to worry about.”

The Chief, already convinced, stood up. “It’s done.”

Andrew clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

Just then, a message flashed across the screen behind them. Another breaking news alert:

INSIDE SOURCE: WALKER FAMILY TENSIONS ERUPT AS BROTHERS CLASH OVER POWER, LEGACY, AND SECRETS.

Beneath it was a photo taken just minutes ago of Jason in the holding cell, smirking as he leaned against the cold bars.

Leah turned to Andrew. “How convenient.”

Andrew glanced at the photo with the barest flicker of emotion. “Miami loves a comeback story.”

He walked toward the door.

As he reached for the handle, the door opened and the now released Jason came into the office smirking.

“Where is that Detective… What’s her name again.”

He was then held by his brother who dragged him out while explaining to him that the situation is under control and that he should get ready to resume the following day.

Leah looked at Harold, then at the Chief, and finally back at the door closing behind the walker brothers.

“ We cannot do this, We are suppose to be a ray of hope to the people and not lie to them” she said facing the Chief

“Do you want to resign or be relegated to the traffic division with a suspended salary?” he fired back at her.

“Just pray Jason refuses the offer and does not show up” he added

Meanwhile, has both brothers headed towards the exit of the police station.

“Jason,” Andrew said calmly, adjusting his cufflink

 “this... situation has actually presented us with an opportunity.”

Jason didn’t stop walking. “Us?” His voice was a low growl. “There’s no ‘us’ here, Andrew. You and the Chief just threw me to the wolves in a tailored suit.”

Andrew sighed, then stopped beside the Ferrari and leaned casually against the driver’s door. “No one threw you anywhere. You got caught doing something stupid again and I cleaned it up. You’re welcome.”

Jason turned on him, jaw tense. “You mean you spun it. Turned me into a cop. An undercover officer what kind of absurd PR move is that?”

“It’s brilliant,” Andrew said simply. “The story’s already gone viral. Everyone’s eating it up. ‘Billionaire heir goes undercover to help take down drug rings.’ The Chief’s thrilled. The mayor is making calls. Our father even cracked a rare ‘not bad’ over the phone.”

Jason’s face twisted. “I’m not interested in your fairy tales or Dad’s grudging ‘approval.’ What I am interested in is getting the hell away from this joke.”

“You can’t,” Andrew said, with that patronizing calm smile

“We’ve already drafted a press release and a soft launch article through the Times. You’ll be assisting the PD for a few weeks, press-friendly raids, community ops. Just enough to make it believable.”

Jason barked a bitter laugh. “You’re kidding.”

Andrew stared him down. “You think the board at Walker Enterprises would accept your name in the same breath as assault charges and a viral mugshot? You’re radioactive. This is your rehab. Your chance to earn any credibility with Dad... and with the world.”

“I’m doing this to protect the company,” Andrew replied, gaze sharp. “From scandals. From you.”

Then Jason turned without another word, stormed to the car, and yanked the door open with such force it groaned.

Andrew called after him, voice cool as ever, “Don’t be stupid. You’ve got a chance to make something of yourself finally. Prove to Dad that you’re more than a scandal.”

The Ferrari’s engine ignited like thunder rolling through the lot. Tires screeched across the pavement as Jason slammed the door, threw the car into gear, and roared out of the station like a bullet tearing through silence.

Andrew remained, unmoved, sipping the last of his coffee from a paper cup. He turned his head just as a cluster of young officers paused to gape at the trail of smoke left behind.

He allowed himself a small, victorious smile.

“Let the games begin.”