Chapter 508: Episode 506: Revenge Plan
The shiny black handgun disappeared back inside Zarek’s tailored suit jacket.
Roxy didn’t want a quick, loud gunshot. She didn’t want the police knocking on their penthouse door asking questions. But most importantly, she knew that letting her ex-husband die fast was way too easy. It was a mercy he absolutely did not deserve.
"A bullet is too fast," Roxy explained, looking around at her six massive, deadly husbands. Her green eyes were completely clear and focused. The fear from the park was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating mind of a Queen. "If he dies today, he won’t even have time to understand why it happened. He made me feel completely helpless, like I had zero control over my own life. I want him to feel exactly what he made me feel."
A slow, terrifyingly proud smile spread across Torian’s face. The giant White Tiger crossed his arms, leaning back. "I like this plan already."
"We are going to dismantle his entire life," Roxy declared. "We are going to take away his freedom, his pride, and his hope. And we are going to do it so perfectly that no one will ever know we were involved."
Syris did not waste a single second. The elegant Swamp King loved puzzles, and he loved using his brilliant mind to trap bad people.
He walked smoothly over to the large glass coffee table and opened his sleek silver laptop. His long, elegant fingers flew across the keyboard at lightning speed. Lines of complicated code and hidden human databases reflected in his bright green eyes.
"If we want to trap him, we need the right hunters," Syris said smoothly, not even looking up from his screen. "This human city is full of police officers, but not all of them are honest. Give me five minutes, my Queen. I will find the greedy ones."
Because the Kings had endless, limitless wealth, Syris could buy anything he wanted. He didn’t look for the good cops. He looked for the dirty ones. He hacked into secret files and found a small, corrupt faction of police officers who cared a lot more about making secret money than they cared about the law.
With a few quick clicks, Syris transferred a massive, life-changing amount of untraceable money directly into their hidden bank accounts.
"Done," Syris smirked, shutting the laptop with a soft snap. "The police captain works for us now. They will do exactly what I tell them to do, and they will not ask any questions."
While Syris bought the police, Kaelen and Ren went out into the city to set the trap.
Her ex-husband was staying in a nasty, cheap little motel on the bad side of town. When the ragged man left his room to go buy a cheap sandwich down the street, the Wolf King and the Healer slipped inside like invisible shadows.
They didn’t just plant a tiny bit of evidence. They completely loaded the room with undeniable, heavy, highly illegal things. They hid thick bricks of fake cartel drugs inside the air vents. They shoved a bag of stolen, unregistered weapons under the lumpy mattress. They planted fake documents that made it look like the ex-husband was the mastermind behind a massive, terrible crime ring.
They made the frame job so absolutely perfect that no judge in the entire world would ever let him walk free again.
They locked the door behind them and vanished back into the shadows before the man even finished eating his sandwich.
Later that night, the cheap motel room was quiet.
The wallpaper was peeling in the corners, the sink was dripping a slow drip-drip-drip, and the red neon sign outside the window kept buzzing and flickering.
The ex-husband was lying on the uncomfortable, lumpy bed, staring up at the stained ceiling. He was drinking a cheap, warm beer and smiling a disgusting, ugly smile.
He felt like a total genius. He felt like a king.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Roxy’s expensive, beautiful clothes. He thought about the shiny rings on her fingers and the giant, rich men guarding her. In his twisted, mean brain, he didn’t feel sorry for hurting her years ago. He only saw a giant pile of money.
"She is terrified of me," the ex-husband muttered to himself, taking a sip of his beer. He laughed, an ugly, scratching sound. "She hasn’t changed at all. She is still just a weak little girl."
He started planning how he was going to approach her again. He figured he would follow her, jump out when her giant bodyguards were distracted, and threaten to tell the world all her dark secrets. He would blackmail her. He would force her to pay him a million dollars just to leave her alone. Or maybe, he thought with a sick smirk, he would just force her to come back to him.
He took another sip of his beer, feeling completely untouchable.
He never even heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.
The cheap wooden door of the motel room didn’t just open. It completely exploded off its hinges. The heavy wood splintered and smashed right onto the dirty carpet.
The ex-husband screamed, dropping his glass beer bottle. It shattered all over the floor.
Before he could even sit up, the tiny room was suddenly swarming with heavily armed men. They were wearing dark tactical gear, thick helmets, and had the word "POLICE" printed in bright white letters across their chests. They had heavy flashlights attached to their weapons, shining blinding, bright white beams of light directly into his eyes.
"Get down! Get on the ground right now!" a huge officer roared, grabbing the ex-husband by the front of his dirty green jacket.
"What?! I didn’t do anything!" the ex-husband panicked, throwing his hands up in the air. "I just got out of jail! You have the wrong guy!"
"Shut your mouth!" another officer yelled.
The corrupt cops didn’t waste any time. They immediately flipped the lumpy mattress completely over. The heavy black bag of stolen weapons crashed onto the floor. Another cop kicked the grate off the air vent, pulling out the giant, undeniable bricks of fake cartel drugs.
The ex-husband’s eyes practically popped right out of his head. He stared at the giant pile of illegal evidence sitting on his motel floor.
"Wait! That’s not mine!" he screamed, his voice cracking with pure, absolute terror. "I swear to you, I have never seen that stuff in my life! Someone planted it! Someone broke in here!"
The dirty police captain just laughed a cruel, cold laugh. "Sure they did, buddy. Tell it to the judge. You are going away forever."
Rough, heavy hands grabbed his arms, twisting them painfully behind his back. The cold metal handcuffs slapped around his wrists, clicking tightly into place. They didn’t read him his rights. They didn’t ask him any questions. They just dragged him kicking and screaming out of the motel room.
The ex-husband struggled, his dirty boots sliding against the concrete walkway outside.
He looked around the dark, empty parking lot, expecting to see a row of bright police cruisers with flashing red and blue lights. He expected to see neighbors looking out their windows.
But there were no police cars. There were no flashing lights at all.
Instead, parked in the darkest corner of the alleyway, was a massive, completely unmarked, blacked-out van. The back doors of the van were sitting wide open, revealing a totally dark, empty metal cage inside.
"Wait, where are the police cars? Where are you taking me?" the ex-husband stammered, his heart hammering against his ribs like a wild drum. The situation suddenly went from a terrible misunderstanding to something incredibly, deeply wrong.
The corrupt cops didn’t answer him. They just shoved him roughly forward. He tripped over his own feet, falling hard onto the cold metal floor inside the back of the dark van.
He scrambled to his knees, his hands cuffed behind his back, his breathing ragged and fast.
He looked back out the open doors of the van, right into the dark alleyway.
Standing perfectly still in the dark shadows of a brick wall was a tall man. The man was wearing a perfectly tailored, incredibly expensive black suit. His bright silver hair caught the dim light of a faraway streetlamp, but his face was completely hidden in the dark.
The ex-husband squinted, his whole body shaking.
Syris slowly stepped forward, just an inch, so the scared man in the van could see his face.
The Swamp King’s bright green eyes were glowing with a terrifying, absolute darkness. He didn’t look like a human man. He looked like an elegant, beautiful demon who had just come to drag a sinner straight down to hell.
Syris raised his long, elegant hand. He gave the terrified ex-husband a slow, cold, completely mocking wave goodbye.
Syris tilted his head, giving him a perfect, chilling smile.
"This is going to be a long ride," Syris whispered, his voice carrying perfectly through the cold night air. "Don’t scream."
The heavy metal doors of the van slammed completely shut, plunging the ex-husband into absolute, terrifying darkness.
