Pulling the Strings
1395 Words
Back at the Hale residence, the room was quiet and dim, with Meredith and Sir Thomas sitting there, weighed down by their thoughts. They had been prisoners of Lord Edward for days, but the emotional burden was heavier than the physical one. The proud Hale family was now just a tool in a bigger game, and they faced a decision that could either save or end their relationship with their daughter, Victoria.
Meredith glanced at Sir Thomas. He sat beside her, his hands tightly clasped, deep in thought. For the first time in years, he looked uncertain about the future they had imagined for Victoria.
"You’re thinking about the prophecy again, aren’t you?" Meredith quietly asked, breaking the silence. They hadn’t discussed it in years, brushing it off as a myth. But after everything that had happened, the memory resurfaced.
Thomas sighed deeply, doubt clouding his eyes. "I am. We always believed she’d marry someone special, someone who’d elevate and protect her. But after everything, I wonder—have we misjudged Alexander?"
Meredith’s lips tightened. She hadn’t allowed herself to think that Alexander could be more than what they had been told—a threat to their daughter. But now, far from Victoria and under Lord Edward’s control, she was starting to have doubts too.
"Thomas, we can’t ignore that Lord Edward has shown us troubling things about Alexander. If he were truly the extraordinary person the prophecy spoke of, wouldn’t we know by now? Wouldn’t he have proven it?"
"Maybe he already has," Thomas mumbled. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Think about it. Alexander has survived more than any man should. He’s stayed in Victoria’s life despite everything Edward has thrown at him. There’s something about him… a presence that makes me wonder if we’ve been wrong."
Meredith frowned, conflicted. "Are you saying we were wrong to reject him? That maybe Victoria made the right choice?"
Thomas looked at her. "I don’t know. But what I do know is that Edward is using us. He mocks us and controls the narrative about Alexander. What if we’ve been blinded by his lies? What if Alexander really is the man our daughter was meant to be with?"
Meredith’s heart ached. She had always believed it was her duty to protect Victoria, to guide her. But now, everything felt uncertain. She wanted to believe that cutting ties with Victoria, as Edward urged, was the right thing for their safety. But doubt lingered.
"If Alexander is hiding something," Meredith said slowly, "why hasn’t he told us? Why the secrecy?"
"I don’t know," Thomas said, shaking his head. "Maybe he’s protecting Victoria, or maybe even us. Either way, we don’t have all the answers. And by the time we figure it out, it might be too late."
Meredith sat in silence, feeling the weight of his words. She wanted to trust her instincts, to believe that staying under Lord Edward’s control was safest. But deep down, she feared they had made a terrible mistake.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Lord Edward entered, his cold eyes sweeping the room. He smiled mockingly as he approached.
"Still sulking?" Edward sneered. "Lest any of you forget, your daughter has chosen to align herself with a criminal."
Meredith and Thomas exchanged a glance but said nothing.
Edward chuckled darkly, stepping closer. "Victoria’s made her choice. She’ll suffer for it. The sooner you cut ties with her, the better."
Thomas clenched his fists. "You speak as if you know everything about Alexander. But what if there’s more to him than you realize? What if we’ve been wrong, Edward?"
"Oh..." Edward laughed. "You’re grasping at straws, Thomas. Alexander will only drag her down. He’s a danger, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be."
Meredith’s heart pounded. She wanted to believe Edward was right, that Alexander was a threat. But deep down, she wasn’t sure anymore.
Sensing their hesitation, Edward leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. "Cut her off, Thomas. Forget about Victoria. She’s on a path to ruin. Save yourselves before it’s too late."
Thomas clenched his jaw, feeling the pressure. But for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what the right decision was.
***
Dorian Blackwood paced restlessly in his office, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. His enemies were closing in, and for the first time in a long while, Dorian wasn’t in control.
“Damn it!” he muttered under his breath, stopping mid-step and slamming his fist on the polished mahogany desk.
Normally, Dorian thrived on keeping his enemies off-balance, always staying two steps ahead. But someone had turned the game on its head. The attacks on his criminal operations were too precise... too calculated. It was as if someone knew his every move before he made it.
Dorian’s mind raced with anger toward everyone who had crossed him—those who dared to challenge him: Alexander, Victoria, even the Hale family. He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding as he recalled the marriage he had orchestrated.
Marrying Victoria Hale was supposed to be the keystone to his rise. With her family’s resources combined with his criminal network, Dorian would have been untouchable.
But now, everything was falling apart. Someone was methodically dismantling his operations, and the forced marriage was slowly slipping through his fingers.
The image of Victoria's face flashed in his mind. His fingers curled into a fist as he turned to stare out the massive floor-to-ceiling window framing the city skyline.
Rage bubbled up inside him, and his pulse quickened. "This isn’t a random attack..." he muttered. "Whoever’s behind this knows too much. They’re inside my head."
He reached for his phone, his hand trembling slightly. Quickly, he dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear as he began pacing again, eyes still locked on the skyline.
"Get me Sergio," he ordered. "We’re escalating this."
There was a pause on the other end. The hesitation in the voice that answered only irritated Dorian further.
"Dorian," the voice said cautiously, "are you sure? Things are already a mess. Bringing in Sergio means bloodshed. There’s no going back from this."
Dorian’s face darkened as he gripped the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. He had tried to do things the subtle way, but clearly, none of it had worked. Now, he had no choice but to get his hands dirty.
"Do it," he growled. "Find out who’s behind these attacks and take them out. I don’t care how you do it. And when you find Alexander..." He paused, pulse pounding in his ears. "Make sure he’s taken care of. Permanently."
Silence followed. Dorian could almost hear the gears turning, but he didn’t wait for a response. He ended the call abruptly, tossing the phone onto the desk.
He walked over to the bar cart in the corner, pouring himself a drink with shaky hands. As the whiskey hit the glass, Dorian’s thoughts circled back to Alexander. How had it come to this? He had built his empire on control—every detail, every move meticulously planned. But now, it was as if someone had stepped into his life and exposed all the cracks he had so carefully hidden.
It infuriated him.
He downed the drink in one go, the burn doing little to soothe his anger. Dorian had always believed he was smarter than his enemies, that he could outmaneuver anyone who tried to challenge him.
He clenched his jaw. If someone wanted a war, he would give them one.
Dorian set the glass down with a harsh clink. The city below seemed distant, as if the world was slipping out of his grasp. But he wouldn’t let that happen. He had worked too hard, built too much to let it all crumble now.
His mind drifted to Victoria again, and a bitter smile curled on his lips. She thought she could defy him, that aligning herself with Alexander would save her. But she was wrong. She had chosen the wrong side, and soon enough, she would pay the price.
"Enjoy your time while it lasts," Dorian whispered. "Because soon, I’ll be the one pulling the strings again."
There was no turning back now. The war had begun, and this time, it wouldn’t be fought with rumors.
It would be fought with blood.
- Writer
