CHAPTER TWO: BEYOND THE GATES OF HALE

BEYOND THE GATES OF HALE

The morning sun peeked through the pink, hazy clouds, its rays washing over the concrete pavement. Cars sped down the street and the rushing wind billowed Lila's skirt where she stood by the curb. 

“Seven," she muttered under her breath, staring down at her ticking watch. She turned to the car parked in the driveway. "We're getting late, Arthur. Hurry the fuck up.”

Arthur waved a hand as he pulled three boxes towards the car. Reaching the Bentley Bentayga, he pulled the trunk open and began hauling the luggages into the space. 

“Let me drive," he said as he tossed the last bag. He slipped his hands into his pockets and walked toward Lila. "I know it's your car but… we're going to meet your dad and I was thinking maybe you should let me drive. Just for today.”

That got a single, absentminded huff from Lila whose eyes remained fixed on her watch. Arthur opened his mouth to try again–then her next words killed his. 

"I'll let you drive when you start paying its bills,” she said calmly as she turned to face him. "Besides…” she smiled, "...I thought you loved being the passenger princess.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He just remained silent as she planted a kiss on his lips and walked past him toward the car. 

"Come on,” she shouted, snapping the front door open. "We don't have much time.”

Arthur remained standing there for a few seconds, his chest tightening as he stared at the couple across the street kissing passionately. A lump formed in his throat but he quickly swallowed it and turned to the car. 

He slid into the passenger seat without another word and closed the door with a quiet thud. A second later, the engines roared to life, and Lila pulled out of the driveway.

For a while, neither of them said anything. 

Arthur kept his head propped against the window, watching the morning joggers and pet walkers as the city blurred around them. Lila kept her hands steady on the wheel and her eyes fixed ahead, her movements almost mechanical. 

Gear. 

Wheel. 

Street. 

Arthur shifted slightly in his seat as he glanced at her and looked away. He recalled their moments of passion back when they were dating and how every drive always ended with moans, kisses and sweats. 

Maybe–just maybe…

Breath steady, he reached out slowly and rested his hand on her thigh, just above her knee. 

For a moment, nothing happened. 

Encouraged by the silence–or maybe just desperate–he slid his fingers higher, brushing past the fabric of her skirt. Leaning closer, he slipped his index finger past her underwear, feeling the warmth of her wet flesh. 

Slowly, he began to stroke, his grin widening. But when he turned back to Lila, he was met with that same blank expression. 

No matter how slow or fast he went, no matter how good he rubbed her clit, she never looked at him. She didn't even acknowledge that he was doing something. Her eyes stayed on the road and her hands stayed locked on the steering wheel.

Gear. 

Wheel. 

Street. 

Arthur stilled as the silence stretched. His jaw tightened with embarrassment as he quietly pulled his fingers out and rested his hand on his lap. 

He let the moment settle for a few minutes before finally speaking again. 

“Um, Lila," he started, his voice softer now. "You haven't really told me why you don't talk to your dad anymore.”

Her grip on the wheel didn't change and her expression didn't falter. For a few seconds, it almost felt like she hadn't heard him. 

Then she said, without an ounce of emotion, “I don't like what he does." 

"What… does he do?” Arthur asked, frowning slightly. 

“He’s a dangerous man,” she answered simply. “The bastard chooses thrills over family and… I just couldn't handle it anymore.”

Arthur shifted again, uneasy. “What do you mean by dan–”

“If you’re curious,” she cut through, her eyes still glued to the road, “you can ask him yourself when we get there.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Arthur pressed his lips together and nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him before turning toward the window again.

Outside, the city had begun to change.

The clean, polished streets slowly gave way to something rougher. Buildings with paint peeling from walls and windows that looked older, dirtier stared back at him. The traffic thinned out, replaced by scattered husks of cars and quiet intersections.

The asphalt turned uneven as the smooth road changed into rough patches of dirt. Soon enough, even the buildings began to disappear, giving way to stretches of trees and overgrown bushes that leaned too close to the road. 

Even the air felt heavier. 

Arthur leaned forward slightly, his brows knitting together. “Lila… where exactly…”

His words faded as something massive suddenly came into view ahead of them.

A gate.

It was tall, rusted with bars that were thicker than his fist. At the center, metal twisted into the shape of a skull, welded crudely into place. Above it, the words were etched in harsh, jagged steel…

HALE SYNDICATE.

Lila slowed the car, the tires crunching softly against gravel as they rolled to a near stop. Arthur’s heartbeat picked up as he stared at the gate. There was something about it that felt… wrong. 

“Does… your dad know we’re coming?” he asked, turning slowly toward her. 

As soon as the question left his lips, the gates creaked with a low, dragging sound as they slowly began to open up. Beside him, Lila’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles paling just slightly.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter now, dropping into something colder. “The bastard knows.”

The gates stopped with a loud bang and Lila drove in.

Arthur looked out the window at the world different from what he knew. 

Rough buildings stood scattered across the wide compound, with clusters of bikes parked outside them. Weeds had overgrown the open spaces, creeping through the cracked ground, while the bikes themselves sat coated in dust, their chrome dulled by neglect.

But what stood out the most was the amount of men littered across the place. 

They leaned against walls, sat on crates or moved in slow, heavy steps. Everyone had on sleeveless leather jackets that revealed muscled arms crawling with jet-black tattoos that snaked around their necks. 

A few puffed thick cigars as they simply watched the car roll through. No one smiled. No one spoke. 

They just stared. 

Arthur sank slightly into his seat as Lila drove deeper into the compound. Soon a larger building came into view–two stories, dark wood and concrete, wide steps that led up to the entrance.

Then she pulled the car to a stop and killed the engine. Arthur glanced at her, waiting for her next move, but she remained still in her seat, staring at the building. 

The front door suddenly opened and his gaze snapped up.

A man stepped out, tall and broad-shouldered. His dark hair, streaked with gray, was pushed back neatly, revealing his grey eyes. A trimmed beard lined his sharp jaw and the sweat on his chiseled tattooed arms caught the burning sun.  

Victor Hale. 

He turned and his gaze instantly locked onto Arthur immediately. 

Not Lila.

Arthur.

He stared coldly at the young man, like he was trying to figure out why a dark haired, blue eyed man was sitting beside his daughter. 

Arthur’s pulse spiked as he forced himself not to look away. He sat there, listening to the slow steady steps of the man as he descended down the tread. He could still feel his gaze on him and there was something about the tension that… excited him. 

Then, finally, Victor tilted his head slightly, his attention shifting, just barely, toward Lila.

“Hello, daughter," he said, a faint smile forming on his lips. "Welcome home.”