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Chapter 37: The Confession
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2026-01-24 23:02:16The Queens motel was rundown, smelling of stale cigarettes and damp carpet.
Room 204.
Jackson stood outside the door, rain dripping from his black trench coat. His left shoulder throbbed with pain, and fresh blood was staining the bandage underneath his shirt.
But he didn't care. The physical pain was nothing compared to the image of the chandelier falling on Serenity.
"Luke," Jackson whispered. "Breach."
BANG!
Luke kicked the door open with a single powerful strike.
Inside, The Viper was packing a suitcase. He reacted fast, reaching for a silenced pistol on the nightstand.
But Jackson was faster.
Fueled by adrenaline, Jackson rushed in. He grabbed a heavy lamp from the table and smashed it against The Viper's hand.
Crack.
"Argh!" The gun flew across the room.
The Viper tried to fight back, pulling a knife. But before he could swing, Jackson kicked him hard in the chest, sending him crashing into the wall.
Jackson pinned him down, his hand wrapping around The Viper's throat.
"You missed," Jackson hissed, his eyes burning with blue fire.
The Viper gasped for air, staring at the billionaire who fought like a street brawler. "S-Sterling?"
"Tie him up," Jackson stood up, adjusting his coat. He felt his wound tearing open, but he ignored it.
Minutes later.
The Viper was tied to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. He looked bruised and terrified.
"I have rights..." The Viper spat blood. "I demand a lawyer."
Jackson laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound.
"You are not in a police station, Mr. Volkov. You are in my room. And in my room, the only law is me."
Jackson pulled a chair and sat opposite him. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his dark face.
"Who hired you?"
"I don't know," The Viper gritted his teeth. "It was anonymous. Dark web."
"Lie," Jackson exhaled smoke. "My son tracked your payments. The money didn't come from the dark web. It came from a secure account in Montbert."
The Viper's eyes widened in shock. "H-How..."
"Who in Montbert wants my wife dead?" Jackson asked softly. "Is it the Grand Duke?"
The Viper stayed silent. He knew if he talked, the Grand Duke would kill him. But if he didn't talk...
Jackson stood up and walked to the window.
"Luke, open the window," Jackson said casually. "We are on the second floor. Not very high. But if someone were to 'accidentally' fall headfirst... it might be fatal."
Luke grabbed the chair and dragged The Viper towards the open window. Rain lashed inside.
"Wait! Wait!" The Viper screamed, dangling half-out of the window. "I'll talk! Pull me back!"
Jackson signaled Luke. The chair was pulled back.
"Speak," Jackson commanded.
"It was... Stefan," The Viper gasped, trembling. "Grand Duke Stefan. He contacted me personally. He said the Princess survived the fire twenty-five years ago. He wants to finish the job."
"He said she is a threat to his throne."
Jackson nodded grimly. His theory was confirmed.
"Is anyone else coming?" Jackson asked.
"No... not yet. I work alone. But if I fail, he will send more. He won't stop until she is dead."
"Good to know."
Jackson turned to Luke. "Hand him over to the CIA. I believe they have a bounty on his head. Tell them I caught him."
"Wait! You said you would let me go!" The Viper yelled.
"I said I wouldn't kill you," Jackson walked out of the room, buttoning his coat. "Enjoy prison, Volkov."
Jackson walked out into the rain. He pulled out his phone and looked at his lock screen—a photo of Serenity and the twins smiling.
"Stefan wants a war?" Jackson whispered to the night sky.
"Then I will bring the war to his palace."
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