Chapter Ninety Eight

Chapter 98
The air in the safe house was thick with tension. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the exhaustion etched on everyone's faces. Jemima sat slumped against Jay, her breathing shallow but steady. Marcus stood near the window, his silhouette tense as he kept watch. Vanessa hovered near Dimitri, her hands trembling as she checked the makeshift bandages wrapped around his arm.
Alan was seated on a worn-out chair in the corner, his head in his hands. The once-defiant arrogance that had defined him was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness. His father's betrayal had gutted him, leaving him adrift in a sea of confusion and regret.
Jay's arm tightened protectively around Jemima as he glanced at Marcus. "How long are we staying here?"
"Not long," Marcus replied, his voice clipped. "This place is secure for now, but Jon's not the type to back off easily. We need to regroup and plan our next move."
Jemima stirred, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's not going to stop, is he?"
Jay looked down at her, his jaw tightening. "No, he won't. But we'll be ready for him."
Her gaze flicked to Alan, who was still motionless in his chair. "And what about him?"
Alan's head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. "I didn't know," he said, his voice hoarse. "I swear, Jemima. I didn't know he was alive."
“And even if you did, what difference would that make?” Vanessa snapped, her eyes glaring into Alan. “Aren’t you his son, haven’t you two been attacking us since ever?”
“Easy Ness,” Jemima said softly but Alan’s gaze was fixated on Jemima. “I didn’t know,” he reiterated.
Jay's glare was ice-cold. "You didn't know, or you didn't care to ask the right questions?"
"Jay," Marcus interrupted his tone warning. "This isn't the time."
Jay's jaw clenched, but he fell silent, his hand absentmindedly brushing against Jemima's hair. Marcus turned his attention to Alan, his expression unreadable.
"Alan," Marcus began, his voice measured. "We need to know everything. No more lies, no more half-truths. If you want to salvage any part of this mess, you need to start talking."
Alan hesitated, his eyes darting between Marcus and Jemima. Finally, he let out a shuddering breath. "I didn't know my father was alive," he repeated. "But I should have suspected. There were things—things that didn't add up."
"Like what?" Vanessa asked, her voice sharp. She stepped away from Dimitri, crossing her arms as she faced Alan.
Alan swallowed hard. "The way his operations continued after his supposed death. I thought it was loyalists keeping his legacy alive, but... now I see it was him, working from the shadows."
"And you just went along with it?" Jay snapped, his voice laced with anger.
"I did not know!" Alan shot back, his voice cracking. "Do you think I wanted this? To be lied to, manipulated—by my father?"
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over them. Jemima watched him closely, her anger tempered by a flicker of understanding. She knew what it felt like to be caught in someone else's web, to be used as a pawn in a game far beyond her control.
"What's his endgame, Alan?" Marcus asked, his tone softer now but no less insistent. "Why is he doing this?"
Alan shook his head. "Power. Control. He always said the world was full of sheep, and he was destined to be the shepherd. He wants to rebuild his empire, stronger than ever. And he doesn't care who he has to destroy to do it."
Jemima's stomach twisted at the thought. Jon Ross wasn't just a manipulative mastermind—he was a man willing to burn the world down to get what he wanted.
“Come with me Jem,” Jay stated, leaving no room for argument as soon as he got back from outside. Jemima followed obediently.
They were in the kitchen now, alone.
“Is everything alright?” Jemima’s eyes were frantic as she searched Jay’s but he shook his head.
“I should be asking you Jem. You left the hospital, Jemma is still in there, you’re not completely healed and you’re here?” Jay said, worry lacing his features as he stretched out his hand to brush Jemima’s cheek ever so lightly.
“I want to be here Jay. I’m tired of feeling like some sack of helpless potatoes. I want to help. This is my family.” Jemima’s tone was defiant, the finality in her voice causing Jay to exhale deeply.
“I know Jem and your resilience is admirable but you’re a health risk. If anything ever happens to you, I don’t think I could live with myself,” Jay said, trying to make her see reasons with him.
“Let’s deal with Jon first.”
“Dr Elara called, she’s worried and…”
“Tell her I’m fine, I’ll go back to the hospital if you need me to but after we’re through with Jon. Please Jay,” Jemima pleaded, raising her toes to plant a soft kiss on Jay's lips.
He smiled.
Hours passed in a tense silence as they tried to piece together a plan. Marcus and Jay took turns watching the perimeter, while Vanessa tended to Dimitri, who was stable but weak. Jemima sat with Alan, her instincts urging her to try and reach him.
"You're not like him," she said quietly, breaking the silence between them.
Alan let out a bitter laugh. "Aren't I? Look at the mess I've made."
"You made mistakes," Jemima conceded. "But you're here now. That means something."
Alan looked at her, his expression filled with a mix of guilt and gratitude. "I don't know how to fix this, Jemima."
"Start by helping us," she said simply. "Help us stop him."
Alan nodded slowly, a flicker of determination returning to his eyes. "Okay."
The plan they devised was risky, but it was their only option. Jon had to be stopped before he could regroup and strike again. Alan revealed the location of one of Jon's safe houses—a place he was likely to retreat to after their confrontation.
"We hit him hard and fast," Marcus said as he laid out the details. "Take out his resources, cut off his escape routes. If we can capture him, even better. But the priority is neutralizing the threat."
Jemima felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. The thought of facing Jon again was terrifying, but she knew they had no choice. If they didn't stop him now, he would come for them—and he wouldn't stop until they were all dead.
The safe house was located on the outskirts of the city, hidden behind a façade of abandoned warehouses. As they approached, the air grew colder, the tension palpable. Marcus led the way, his movements precise and deliberate. Jay stayed close to Jemima, his protective instincts on high alert.
Alan was at the rear, his expression grim as he carried a duffel bag filled with weapons and supplies. Vanessa and Dimitri stayed behind, the latter still too weak to join the fight.
The plan was simple: infiltrate the safe house, disable Jon's men, and confront him directly. But as they moved closer, it became clear that nothing about this mission would be simple.
The first sign of trouble came in the form of a shadow moving across the second-story window. Marcus signaled for everyone to stop, his hand raised in a silent command.
"Snipers," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Stay low."
They moved carefully, using the shadows to their advantage. Jay took out the first guard with a swift, silent takedown, his movements precise and lethal. Marcus handled the second, his knife glinting briefly in the moonlight before disappearing into the man's chest.
Jemima's heart pounded as they reached the entrance. Alan worked quickly to disable the security system, his hands steady despite the tension.
"We're in," he whispered, stepping back as the door clicked open.
The interior was dark and eerily quiet. They moved as a unit, their footsteps muffled against the concrete floor. Jemima stayed close to Jay, her fingers gripping the gun he had insisted she carry.
As they reached the main corridor, a voice rang out, freezing them in their tracks.
"Well, well. I was wondering when you'd show up."
Jon Ross stepped into view, his smile cold and calculating. He was flanked by two armed guards, their weapons trained on the group.
"You're predictable, Marcus," Jon continued, his tone mocking. "Always so eager to play the hero."
"Drop the act, Jon," Marcus said, his voice steady. "This ends tonight."
Jon chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, Marcus. You always were so dramatic."
Before anyone could respond, chaos erupted. The guards opened fire, forcing the group to scatter. Jay pulled Jemima behind cover, his body shielding hers as bullets ricocheted off the walls.
Marcus returned fire, his shots precise and deadly. Alan joined in, his movements hesitant at first but growing more confident with each shot.
Jemima's hands shook as she raised her gun, her heart pounding in her chest. In her head were two minds and she struggled to make them coordinated, but she refused to be a liability. She aimed carefully, her finger tightening on the trigger.
The gunshot echoed in the room, and one of the guards dropped to the ground. Jemima's breath caught in her throat, a mix of fear and adrenaline surging through her.
"You're doing great," Jay said, his voice low and encouraging. "Stay with me."
As the fight continued, it became clear that Jon had planned for this. More guards poured into the room, their numbers overwhelming. Marcus barked orders, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"Fall back! We need to regroup!"
They retreated into a side corridor, barricading the door behind them. Jemima's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her hands still trembling.
"We can't keep this up," Alan said, his voice strained. "He's got too many men."
"We're not giving up," Marcus replied firmly. "We just need to find another way."
Jemima glanced at Jay, her eyes filled with determination. "We have to end this. For good."
Jay nodded, his expression grim. "We will. Together."