Derrick stood there blacked out from head to toe, with two of his trusted soldiers flanking him on either side.

  Glasses covered their eyes like tinted windows, masking the darkness that lay behind them—expressionless soldiers with one job: be ready, whenever, wherever.

  Robert couldn't keep his eyes off Derrick.

  Once their eyes locked, it was as if Derrick had taken the key to his soul and thrown it away, rooting him to the spot.

  Song after song passed, but their locked stare never broke.

  Derrick could smell the fear as it wafted through the air, and it made him grin—a smug grin that spread across his face like an open wound that refused to shut.

  Their souls laid bare as they stared through each other’s windows—two sides of the same glass:

  On one side, the good—the man who survived the bumps in the road and got out.

  On the other, the darkness—the man who felt he had no choice but to embrace the cards he was dealt and rise to the top through fear and bloodshed.

  But with the show coming to an end, it was time for the ribbon cutting.

  “Robert—Robert!” shouted Veronica, but Robert couldn’t hear a single word—not after seeing Derrick.

  To him, there was no one else in the crowd.

  The cheering blurred into faceless silhouettes while Derrick and his men stood there, alone in the spotlight, their aura dark and unmistakable.

  “Robert!” Nicole called out again, her voice cutting over the music.

  But Robert’s mind was elsewhere— trapped in a storm of a thousand possibilities.

  What could Derrick be here for? Was he here to start trouble? Had he let old wounds die?

  Nicole walked over and tapped him gently on the shoulder. When that didn’t work, she shook him, jolting him out of the prison Derrick had locked his mind inside.

  All at once, the noise returned—the cameras, the lights, the people.

  “Yeah—yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” Robert asked, breathing heavy, trying to catch his breath.

  Nicole’s head tilted slightly to the side, confused. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  “Honey, are you sure you’re okay?”

  Robert, trying to keep his mask from slipping any further, forced a smile.

  “Of course I’m okay, honey. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you’ve been staring off into space for nearly an hour,” Nicole said. “You haven’t moved from that spot—and it’s time for the ribbon cutting.”

  Robert turned to her, a huge smile breaking through as he reached over, his lips landing on hers, his eyes closed as he kissed her passionately on the lips.

  “Time really does fly. I got lost in how huge this event is, in the crowd—they all came to see me. A little nobody who came from a neighbourhood left to die… and now I’m here. With fans. It feels like a full-circle moment.”

  Nicole’s worry quickly began fade, replaced by a rapturous smile.

  “Well, Mr. Big Time, don’t forget about the small timers now that you’ve arrived,” she teased.

  “But seriously, honey—the mayor’s waiting. Get a move on.”

  Robert took a quick glance over his shoulder towards the entrance of the college—and there stood Mayor Matthew Burberry.

  A towering man at 6’3, broad-shouldered, with a thick grey moustache perched above a charming smile.

  His freshly tailored blue suit, made from the finest materials, caught everyone’s eye as the press rushed to take photos and ask questions. His polished black shoes gleamed against the flashing lights as he waved to the cameras, his elegant charm commanding the moment.

  Burberry’s assistant stood to the right holding a ceremonial pair of scissors, while the mayor smiled, posed for photos, and shook officials’ hands nearby—nodding graciously as if each camera lens was an old acquaintance.

  Security scanned the crowd with predatory focus, hands resting near their hips at all times.

  Robert’s head snapped back quickly, a nervous smile painted across his face.

  “You’re right… he’s here.”

  Robert began fiddling with his suit, his nerves starting to get the better of him.

  “Everything look good? Tie straight?” he asked frantically, adjusting his cufflinks.

  Nicole stood with her hands on her hips, her face turning stone cold.

  “Robert James, get your butt over there right now. You know you look absolutely stunning. Stalling isn’t going to make this go away.”

  “But honey, it’s the mayor of New York. The mayor of New York! First A$AP Ferg, now the mayor—what next? The president?”

  Nicole began to smile.

  “Nope—no way. Don’t even say it,” Robert added quickly, pressing a finger to her lips.

  Robert drew in a deep breath, then exhaled.

  Even with someone as important as the mayor waiting for him, he couldn’t stop thinking about Derrick.

  Each step toward the stage brought flashes of the past: their struggles, the dangerous environment they’d been raised in, the night of the award ceremony.

  Robert paused briefly, then kept walking. Each step mirrored Derrick’s steps from that same night—the fatal night that changed everything for him, for good and bad.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Robert knew—without Derrick, he wouldn’t be here today.

  But like every coin, there are two sides, and the dark side of his success began to whisper in his mind:

  The sleepless nights.

  The fear of being caught.

  Derrick’s dodgy men.

  The attack in Derrick’s SUV.

  The break-in at the lab.

  It was all part of Robert’s story… and he couldn’t help but wonder:

  Is this where it all unravels?

  Is that his plan—to expose me when the world’s eyes are on me? Where once it’s on the net, there’s no scrubbing it. Where I’m powerless. Millions of kids who see me as a hero will see me as a fraud. Everything I worked for, my parents’ sacrifices… gone down the drain.

  Robert’s fist tightened by his side—but as he stepped closer into the mayor’s presence, he knew there was no time to wallow.

  His balled-up fist slowly opened, his hand relaxing to his side.

  His mask had cracked—but Robert was a man of many faces. And the one he was about to wear was the unfazed one, the public hero, the man who was fine.

  For now.

  “Over here, Robert,” Mayor Burberry called with a smile, ushering him over.

  Robert joined him on stage.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Robert. I’ve heard nothing but spectacular things about you and how you’ve impacted this community. Your parents would be proud,” Burberry said between photo flashes.

  Robert glanced toward Derrick again—his eyes still locked on him, smile unchanged, plastered on like a mask he’d never taken off. Derrick was loving every second of this.

  Eyes still on Derrick, Robert replied,

  “No, Mayor Burberry, the pleasure is all mine. To have such a huge pillar of not just this community but the whole of New York show up and support this event means the world—not just to me, but to every kid who looks up to me. It shows them that hard work gets you places.”

  The mayor broke into a wide grin.

  “Amen to that, Robert. Amen indeed.”

  The mayor signalled to his advisor to pass him the scissors.

  As they landed in Burberry’s hands, Robert held one handle while the mayor held the other as the media lapped it up.

  Robert took hold of the scissors and walked up to the door, opening it slowly, one side at at time. With a large pull upwards the scissors opened, then with a swift motion downwards the ribbon was cut.

  The crowd erupted in cheers. As Robert stood there taking it all in a staff member popped up from the side handing Robert a mic.

  “Without further ado… the Robert James University of Science Department is officially open!” Robert shouted, his voice booming with pride.

  “Please—everyone—come in, look around, and take in the future of science!”

  The crowd exploded with excitement as event staff ushered people inside. Robert stood by the entrance shaking hands and taking pictures with fans, kids, and parents.

  But as the crowd started to thin… Derrick began to walk forward.

  Each step was intentional. Slow. Methodical. Calculated.

  but Robert wasn’t alone.

  Gabriel and Daniel flanked their father—they weren’t about to let him face Derrick alone.

  As Derrick arrived face to face with the three of them, Daniel couldn’t meet his gaze.

  He was scared—intimidated—and couldn’t hide it.

  Gabriel, on the other hand, exuded confidence. He looked Derrick dead in the eye, past the surface and into his soul, showing he wasn’t afraid of the darkness Derrick had unleashed on the world.

  “Robert,” Derrick said, his smug grin never faltering.

  “Gabriel… and last but certainly not least, Daniel.”

  “Boys, go inside—I won’t be long,” Robert ordered.

  But Gabriel had other plans.

  “I’m alright to stay here with you, Dad,” he said, standing tall, fearless, ready.

  “Gabriel. Daniel. Do as you’re told. Now—go!” Robert snapped.

  Both boys exhaled heavily and turned toward the doors.

  “Is that any way to talk to the boys, Robert? Tsk, tsk… shame on you,” Derrick mocked.

  “Boys… oh, boys…” he called out again, each word more sarcastic than the last.

  Gabriel and Daniel froze. Their heads turned back toward Derrick, meeting his smug gaze.

  Derrick waved a hand slowly across his face.

  “Let me tell you a story… a story about a boy who got caught with his hand in a mousetrap, trying to get the cheese.”

  “The boy was eager—desperate—to prove his worth to the streets.

  But little did he know… the streets would never love him back.

  It’s a treacherous place where cream rises to the top—and this boy… he never saw it coming.

  He never realised his piece had already been moved onto the board.

  A pawn in a much bigger game.

  And with every move made… the boy’s boss was already three—no… four steps ahead.

  The red light was flashing, and the camera… oh, it was rolling.”

  Derrick chuckled, low and cold.

  “The boy never stood a chance. Because when the trap snapped shut and his fingers bled against the splintered wood, when his cries echoed into the abyss… who stepped from the shadows?”

  Derrick leaned forward, eyes glinting.

  “The boy’s boss.

  The man who had set everything in motion.

  The man who knew the boy would take the bait.”

  Derrick laughed.

  “Just a little story I was told, boys. I think you, Daniel, would find it… fascinating.”

  Daniel’s head dropped. He couldn’t hold his gaze. Fear had claimed both his heart and his mind.

  “Gabriel, I won’t ask again,” Robert said, his tone laced with anger. “Take your brother inside.”

  “Come on, bro. Let’s leave them to it.”

  Gabriel wrapped an arm around Daniel and ushered him toward the doors.

  Robert watched as his boys entered the building, closing the doors gently behind them before turning his attention back to the problem at hand.

  “Leave,” Robert snapped, turning back to Derrick.

  Nearby onlookers glanced over at the raised voice.

  “Shhh… Robert,” Derrick motioned. “You don’t want to make a scene now, do you? If I were you, I’d lower my voice. You wouldn’t want people getting the wrong image of you, now would you.”

  “You want me to Leave? I can't say in not disappointed Robert , That’s no way to treat a childhood friend,” Derrick continued.

  “Friend?” Robert barked, his voice hitting fever pitch.

  “You have some nerve calling me that after everything you put me through.”

  He stepped forward, too heated to stop himself.

  Derrick’s two juggernauts reacted instantly, their jumpers lifting to reveal the cold glint of pistols at their hips.

  Derrick raised a hand, stopping them.

  “Easy, boys. I’ve got this. Robert isn’t any threat.”

  “You talk about what I did,” Derrick said, “but absolve yourself of your part in it. You wouldn’t be Robert James, the hotshot scientist, without me. Without my money, you’d be just another what if.

  But our deal had conditions. Conditions you agreed to.

  And you broke your word.”

  “What kind of man does that make you, Robert?”

  Robert’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinded slowly against each other as his anger kept growing.

  “It makes me a man who knew he did wrong. Who looked in the mirror and couldn’t see the man his parents raised. I saw a man who took shortcuts… desperate enough to take a large chunk of dirty money when he hit rock bottom.”

  “You’re right. That was cold,” Derrick said, brushing the shoulders of Robert’s suit.

  “But I come from the streets, where only the coldest survive.

  You did whatever it took to be number one.

  You think I got to choose when to fight? To wake up and say, ‘Not today, I’m not feeling it’?

  I didn’t know such a luxury.

  Everything was on. Twenty-four seven.”

  Derrick smirked.

  “Nice suit, by the way. Custom, I can tell.”

  He gave Robert a light slap on the arm.

  “But don’t worry—I’m not here to ruin your day or cause a scene.”

  Robert’s mouth opened, words ready to spill, but Derrick had already turned away.

  His coat swayed like liquid shadow as he spun.

  With his back to Robert, Derrick raised a hand to the sky and clicked his fingers—once. Twice.

  A sarcastic signal.

  A show of control.

  A reminder of the power he held.

  “Whatever you’ve got to say, hold it,” Derrick said without turning back.

  “I’m sure our paths will cross… sooner than you think, old friend.”

  His words spoke of probabilities, but his tone—his tone spoke in certainties.

  Derrick’s last words to his old friend were shaded in mystery.

  But one thing was certain:

  Only time would tell what piece he would move on the board next.