Chapter 229 Old Promise II

Lana switched off the car engine and jumped out in a hurry, slamming the door behind her. Her heart was pounding, her mind spinning through the last twenty-four hours like a storm. There was no time to waste. Every minute could mean the difference between Liam surviving... or not.

As she made her way toward her house, a figure appeared from the other side. Someone was stepping out of Liam’s house.

Tall. Fit. A bit rough-looking with casual swagger. Lana recognized him instantly—Dickson.

She had seen his face before, even though they had never spoken directly. That was Liam’s best friend. His brother in all but blood.

Dickson walked casually at first, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. But when he spotted her, his pace slowed. His eyes trailed from Lana’s face to the sleek, powerful car behind her.

"Hey," he said with a slight grin, nodding toward the vehicle. "Nice car you got there."

Lana gave a tight, distracted smile, not bothering to explain that the car actually belonged to Ella. Before she could say anything, Dickson continued.

"You seen Liam? I’ve been trying to reach him since he went to Russia. Guy’s been completely off the grid. No texts, no calls, nothing. You know where he’s at?"

Lana froze.

That question hit her harder than she expected.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her brain stalled for a moment, caught between panic and control.

Dickson’s smile faded slightly as he looked at her more closely. His gaze dropped to her arms and her shirt—then he squinted, his brows knitting together.

"Wait... hold on. Is that..." He pointed slowly, his tone shifting. "Is that... b-blood???"

Lana looked down at herself—and her eyes widened in horror.

Liam’s dried blood still stained her hands, her sleeves, even some streaks near her neck. She had been in such a rush, so consumed by fear and urgency, she completely forgot she hadn’t cleaned up.

Her mouth fumbled. "Uh... I-it came from an animal."

Dickson just stared at her, dead silent for a moment. Then his tone dropped into something sharper, more urgent. "Is it Liam? Something’s wrong with Liam, isn’t it?"

Lana let out a breath and gave a slow nod.

"Yes. It’s Liam. He’s hurt. Badly."

Dickson’s whole demeanor shifted. His posture tensed, his jaw clenched. His face dropped like the floor had just vanished beneath his feet.

"How bad?" he asked.

Lana didn’t sugarcoat it. "It’s a life or death situation."

The words struck him like a hammer. His eyes went blank for half a second. Then something sparked behind them. He turned his head slightly, muttering something under his breath.

"The old man... yes... yes..."

Then, before Lana could say a word or even register what he meant, Dickson turned—and sprinted away down the street at full speed.

"Wait—what the hell—?" Lana muttered, blinking after him.

But she shook her head. She couldn’t afford to wonder where he was going or what he was planning. Liam needed help, and right now, the dagger was their biggest mystery.

She turned on her heel, walking fast toward her own house.

She needed her laptop.

Now.

---

Dickson sprinted down the street like a man possessed, his chest heaving with each breath. He knew exactly where he was going—Liam’s next-door neighbor. The old man who always sat on his porch with a radio, a flask, and a disapproving stare. The same old man who once pulled Dickson aside after Liam’s parents died and made him promise something. A promise that sounded ridiculous at the time... but now?

Now it might be the only card he had left.

He reached the small, creaky house and didn’t hesitate. He banged on the front door with both fists, loud and fast.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

No response.

He banged again, harder.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Finally, the door creaked open a few inches, and an old man with thick white eyebrows and a crooked nose peeked out. His voice was scratchy, aged, irritated.

"Who the hell are you, kid?"

Dickson blinked, already panting. "It’s me. Dickson!"

The old man narrowed his eyes. "Who the fuck is Dickson?"

Dickson groaned, already frustrated. "Come on, man! I’m Liam’s best friend! You told me to come to you if Liam was ever in real trouble. After his parents died! You made me promise!"

The old man’s eyes didn’t soften right away. He stared for a long beat, trying to place the name. Then, slowly, his brows lifted.

"...Oh. It’s you."

Dickson nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes, it’s me. Look—I think Liam’s in serious trouble."

The old man leaned on the doorframe, his body still, expression unreadable. "What kind of trouble?"

Dickson swallowed hard. "I’m not entirely sure. But I ran into Lana, I think—she showed up covered in blood. Liam’s blood. She said he’s hurt bad. Like, life-or-death bad."

The old man frowned deeply, lips twitching under his beard. "Lana? Who’s Lana?"

Dickson threw up his hands. "It doesn’t matter! She’s not the point! The point is that Liam is in trouble right now. And you said if something happened, you’d help!"

The old man didn’t respond immediately. He went quiet, too quiet. His stare locked onto Dickson’s face, unmoving. It was unsettling.

A long moment passed—ten seconds, maybe more.

Then the old man’s face shifted.

He blinked once. His expression went blank.

"I don’t know you, kid."

And just like that, he slammed the door.

BANG.

Dickson stood frozen.

His jaw dropped.

His pulse throbbed in his neck, and he could feel his ears getting hot from rage. He stepped forward and slammed his palm against the door.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! You literally just said ’Oh, it’s you!’ Are you playing with me, you old bastard?!" He punched the door once, hard enough to sting his knuckles. "You said you’d help Liam! You promised! Now you’re just shutting the door?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Silence.

No footsteps. No creak. Nothing from the other side.

"Unbelievable," Dickson muttered, his fists clenched tight. "Go to hell, old man."

Just then, the faint sound of a car engine starting caught his attention.

Dickson’s head snapped toward the street.

Across the road, he spotted Lana’s car pulling out from the driveway. She was getting back on the road.

"Shit—she’s leaving again!"

Without a second thought, he dashed away from the old man’s house and raced across the street. His own car was parked a few meters down. He jumped in, started the engine with a roar, and sped off in the direction Lana had gone.

She had answers. She had information. And most importantly—she knew where Liam was.

Dickson wasn’t going to sit around while his best friend was out there, bleeding out or dying or worse.

And if that crazy old man wanted to pretend he didn’t know him anymore? Fine.

He was going to find his own way to help Liam.

Even if it killed him.

----

Lana’s car rolled to a smooth stop just in front of Ella’s massive mansion gates. The sun was starting to dip behind the skyline, casting long shadows across the driveway. The moment the security guard stationed at the front recognized Ella’s car, he rushed to open the gate. She nodded at him briefly as she eased the car inside.

As the gate began to close behind her, the blaring roar of another engine cut through the air.

VROOOM!

A second car barreled up the driveway at high speed, pushing past the partially closed gate with reckless force. The security guard, caught off guard, jumped back, narrowly avoiding getting clipped by the car’s bumper.

"The fuck?!"

The guard’s instincts kicked in immediately. His hand darted to his waist as he drew his firearm and stepped into a defensive stance, pointing the gun straight at the oncoming vehicle.

"Stop right there! Get out of the car—now!"

Lana slammed her door shut and turned around, eyes widening as she saw what was happening.

"Hey! It’s okay!" she called out quickly, raising her hand toward the guard. "He’s with me! He’s fine!"

The guard didn’t lower the gun right away, but when he saw the calm certainty in Lana’s eyes—and the absence of threat from the other driver—he finally relaxed. With a small grunt, he returned the weapon to his side holster.

Dickson flung open the driver’s side door and stepped out, not even sparing the guard a glance. He wasn’t interested in small talk, explanations, or introductions. His face was locked in complete focus.

"Take me to Liam," he demanded immediately, walking straight past Lana like a man on a mission.

Lana blinked, still surprised. She hadn’t even realized he’d been following her. But now that he was here, breathing hard and staring like a man with a personal stake in all this, she saw the worry in his eyes—the same worry they all had.

Without another word, she turned and led him toward the entrance of the mansion.

****

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