Unhinged, Jerememy stormed into Tony's house and kicked open his study door with nostrils flaring with rage. Before Tony could even fathom what was happening, a fist landed on his right cheek, sending thousands of needle-like stinging sensations to the place of impact.
He rubbed it nonchalantly, "Had you been in good health, I would be bleeding right now...". His guard was down, and that's the only reason he couldn't dodge the punch in time.
Jeremy threw in another one, only for it to be caught mid-air, "You got lucky once", and in one swift movement, he pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear, "Go home Jeremy, you look like death, and you are ruining the fun of hunting you down. The joy of turning this city inside out and depriving me of the rush I will feel when I finally catch you."
Jeremy pushed hard away from him, almost stumbling down, "You are sick!",
"Not now, nephew...save it for the finale", Tony smirked, pouring himself a drink, "Besides...you are the one that barged in here-"
Jeremy's face darkened in anger, "You think this is a game?? Do you have any idea how devastated my fiancé is? You don't even show remorse for what you did, and to you, it's just a game. You wreck people's lives, turn everything upside down for some stupid high and satisfaction to your huge ego..."
Tony banged the brandy glass onto the table, spilling it. His whole demeanour had become serious, and irritation was written in his face, "How dare you??!", he growled in annoyance, "It was your foolish fiancée who got herself into this mess! Your fiancée went digging in places she shouldn't! She splashed my private life in all media platforms in the city! Billboards...news outlets, gossip media! She made a fool out of me. As if that is not enough, she broke into my office, stole what's mine, and yet, here you are telling me that she is the victim...her??! Seriously! It's called co-nse-que-nces! Read about it when you get home!"
Jeremy became even more grim at the lack of accountability, "Surely you can't be insinuating that you are the victim-just how ignorant can one person become??"
"Sorry to break it to you, but YES! I AM THE VICTIM!", he rumbled, and Jeremy flinched in bewilderment. He always knew his uncle was wicked and delusional, but not to this level. All logic and reason had left him, leaving only a skewed version of reality, making him scarier and unwilling. He looked ready to draw blood, and Jeremy impulsively took a few steps backwards in amazement.
The judgmental look on Jeremy's face aggravated Tony even more, and he began to rage towards him, "Listen here, you hypocrite - First of all, I am the victim of your cowardness and indecisiveness. Second, I am the victim of your little fiancé's foolish decisions packaged in a "good plan" package and her inability to let go of the past. I am the victim of your father's failure to parent you appropriately, busy hiding behind my family's name. I am the victim of that incompetent coward they call John King. I am the victim here!", he finally caught up to him. He pulled him by his collar close enough to his brandy-filled breath, " So how dare you, you little prick!...", in one single powerful push, Jeremy found himself lying on the floor, hands covering his head as his uncle repeatedly turned him into his own little stomping ground.
"..but you know what beats all you - is that scoundrel who was too much of a coward and too greedy to just divorce like any normal person - No! He wanted to have his cake and eat it too, and I had to clean up his mess! In fact, it's all his fault!", that's when he had a moment of epiphany, and he paused, "...yes, it is all his fault and who is best to pay for all the suffering I have endured - that brat!". He scurried straight to the phone on his table, and Jeremy shuddered at the realisation of what his impulsiveness may have done.
"Uncle...please...please...don't. She had nothing to do-", he darted to hold his ankle,
"Get off me...this is all your fault.", in one swift movement, Tony booted him off, "And seeing that you are here...I am guessing she never skipped town as I assumed, and since she's not at her place or yours ...I guess that leaves the old King's mansion. Smart, really - right in plain sight".
Jeremy's eyes darkened with fear. Although there was no reasoning with him, he fell helplessly on his knees and face down in front of him, "I beg you", he pleaded, tears streaming from his glassy eyes, "I will do anything you ask... so please, please don't hurt her",
As if he were blind to his wet face and deaf to his pleas, Tony went on to dial his phone, eager to give out instructions. He was almost too excited. He could already taste the sweet taste of victory. He got to see his arrogant bustard nephew grovelling on his knees, and the most powerful family in the city was about to go up in flames, literally. And all would've gone according to plan had the person on the other end of the line picked up.
He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist at the sound of the voicemail, "Those fools! What am I paying them for?!" he punched the numbers again, anticipating a different response. Still, he was met with the same computer woman, "The number you have dialled-", and he instantly turned, taking out his frustration on poor Jeremy with a slap that tilted his right cheek to the left. Instinctively anticipating another one, Jeremy prepared his other cheek, but it never arrived - puzzled - he slowly opened his eyes to find his uncle's hand frozen halfway and his eyes glued to the door, making him think for a second, "Did time freeze?", but that wouldn't be because his uncle's limbs were subtly trembling, and he recognised those trembles, the man was scared!
He suddenly turned his eyes to the door, the subject of this man's fear, and there it stood in human form. He's seen him before - he recognised those brown eyes and that nose, and he was as handsome as in the pictures - and man! time only made him more attractive.
"Damn!", falling flat on his bum, "I'll be damned!", Jeremy exclaimed in shock at the brown-skinned man in a long black winter coat holding a black walking stick with a silver wolf head - very fitting of his character. The man looked like an old-school gangster straight out of a mafia movie - black hat...black pointy shoes, great height - perfect in fact, and behind him stood another handsome, young black man who seemed to hold greater respect and loyalty for the man.
"Linda's dad...as in Thomas King?!", he gasped...
"In the flesh!", the man flashed a smile.