Secret Silver | hiatus

xx. Arc

Oliver Fleming was almost a carbon copy of his father, Ford Fleming.

The man stood a few inches shorter than his son, his jet black hair peppered with gray streaks. His stubble was dark, concealing the lower half of his face, and his dark eyes framed by wrinkles.

"Son," Ford spoke, his deep voice vibrating through the air, "it's been a while. Come give your father a hug."

He held his arms out as the agents surrounding him for protection parted to give way to Oliver, who stood still, his feet anchored to the ground. The scowl on his lips deepened.

Ford, noting his resistance, dropped his hands back to his side, adjusting his tie, his expensive suit speaking volumes about his reputation: Ford Fleming was a very valuable man. The leader of Arc. The second most powerful agency in the world, a few steps behind G.O.L.D.

"I'm not here for games, Father. Will you help us or not?" Oliver stood protectively in front of Silas and me, though I was sure it was subconsciously. He knew I didn't need protection.

I looked at Silas, who was not reacting the way I thought he'd be. He was standing close to me, his expression stern and fearless, as if he wasn't scared of the dozens of agents in the warehouse who were ready to fire at us if necessary.

"You didn't even introduce me to your friends," Ford kissed his teeth and sauntered towards us, his sly smile growing when his eyes met mine, and something shifted in his expression.

"Zara Dubois. Good to see you're alive." He stuck his hand out for me to shake, but Oliver interjected, shoving him away.

His father seem unfazed. He looked at Silas, amusement playing in his eyes. "Who's this? He's clearly not an agent. So what is he doing here?"

Ford's men closed in on us, two of them strolling to our sides and attempting to place their hands on Silas's arms to refrain him.

Oliver and I both stepped in his direction, but we froze when we saw Silas kick one of the men in the ribs and elbow the other one in his face, resulting in a cracking sound and blood streaming down the agent's nose.

He smiled smugly at both of us, and Oliver and I shared shocked looks. The training was paying off. A part of me, no matter how annoyed with him, was impressed.

The agents, furious, charged towards him again, but were stopped by Ford's bellowing voice.

"That's enough. I take my words back." He smoothed his jacket and turned to his son, not without offering me a cunning smile. "You should have never left us."

His tone was now serious, void of any humor. "You could have done incredible things at Arc, son. But you left because of one stupid grudge."

Oliver laughed mirthlessly and rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a grudge, Father. You're a monster, and monsters can never be family."

Ford shook his head in disappointment. "You're just like your mother."

Oliver's jaw clenched at the mention of his mother, but he remained calm. I knew that mentally, he was counting his breaths. It's how he kept himself serene, and he needed to do it now more than ever.

"Will you help us or not?" I found myself speaking in his place, causing all eyes to turn on me. I stepped forward, my stone expression not phasing Ford Fleming.

"Because and only because this matter threatens our power, I will provide you with supplies," he began, stepping closer to me so that we were only inches away. His gaze made my skin crawl. "But we are staying out of this matter. It does not concern us."