Hidden Secrets (editing and improving the story)

Chapter 28 - Never give up

Alex's pov:

I was in my office with Steve, going over the final details of our strategy when the phone rang. The name on the screen made my jaw clench—John, the Council's Military Counselor.

The conversation was short, but the weight of it lingered. When I hung up, I leaned back in my chair and let out a long breath. Steve hadn't taken his eyes off me. His raised brow was all the prompting I needed.

"John just called," I said finally. "It's Bartholomew. He's in deep this time—serious charges. The Council has enough to bury him."

Steve's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Finally. We got that snake and his whole damn crew. It's over."

"Don't celebrate yet," I cut in, sharp and cold. "This isn't over. Not even close."

Steve blinked. "What do you mean? He's in custody. The Council's locked him up. He's done."

"I'm not worried about the Council," I said, rising from my chair. I started pacing, the unease in my gut growing by the second.

"Then what? He's behind bars. What else could he possibly do?"

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I don't know. But I've got a bad feeling. Bartholomew's not the kind of man who goes down quietly. He's too proud. Too cunning. Too dangerous."

Steve frowned. "You think he'll try to fight his way out? That's suicide."

"No," I said. "I think he's got something planned—something reckless. An escape. A deal. Maybe a contingency we haven't even seen coming."

Steve leaned forward, skeptical. "You seriously think he can break out of the Council's prison? That place is a fortress."

"I told John the same thing I'm telling you now," I said. "He thinks I'm overreacting."

"Well, I hate to say it, but I agree with my brother," Steve said, shaking his head. "No one escapes from that prison. No one. It's impossible."

I stopped pacing and met his eyes. "Nothing is impossible, especially when it comes to Bartholomew. Underestimate him, and you'll regret it."

Silence settled over the room, heavy and uneasy.

Bartholomew was down—but far from defeated. And we both knew it.

A heavy silence settled between us.

"Never underestimate that man," I added quietly. "He's survived too much. Betrayed too many. Slipped through too many hands. And the more desperate he gets, the more dangerous he becomes."

Steve leaned back in his chair, some of the confidence draining from his expression. He didn't argue—he knew I was right. Deep down, he felt it too.

We weren't done with Bartholomew.

Not even close.

Bartholomew's POV

I sat in the prison visiting room with Mr. Johnson, my lawyer. One guard stood silently by the door, while two more waited just outside. The Council wasn't taking any chances. Security here was airtight.

Mr. Johnson had come to explain my legal standing—and my so-called "options."

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?" I snapped. "Why the hell am I paying you so much?"

"Bartholomew, you have to understand," he said, voice calm but firm. "The evidence against you is overwhelming. There's no denying it anymore."

"I don't care!" I shouted, slamming a fist on the table.