Chapter 1: The Muddy Bank
The water of the river was cold against Leo’s bare knees as he dug his small fingers into the slick bank. Under the looming concrete shadow of the highway bridge, the world smelled of wet earth, exhaust fumes, and stagnant runoff. He planted his sneakers firmly in the thick clay, his chest heaving with every ragged breath he took. His tan short-sleeve shirt was stained with dark brown spots, and his wet light-brown hair clung heavily to his forehead, framing his big, terrified hazel eyes.
A few feet away in the shallow, rushing current, Jax lay half-submerged. The forty-year-old man was tall, but right now he looked terribly heavy and fragile. His dark, slicked-back hair was plastered across his pale forehead, and his short beard dripped muddy water. The expensive formal suit he wore—once crisp and sharp—was ruined, soaked through and caked in sludge. A glint of gold caught the dim light under the bridge: a thick gold chain necklace resting against his collarbone, and a heavy gold watch ticking steadily on his limp wrist.
Leo braced his legs, his muscles burning with an effort that felt far too big for an eight-year-old boy. He grabbed Jax by the damp lapels of his ruined suit jacket.
"Hold on, hold on, I've got you!" Leo strained, his voice cracking with exertion.
With one final, desperate heave, Leo pulled. Jax’s body slid through the wet mud, coming to a rest on the slightly higher bank out of the main current. Jax coughed violently, his chest shuddering as dark water spilled from his mouth. He blinked slowly, his eyes trying to focus on the gray light and the small, determined face hovering above him.
In the background, half-hidden by the concrete pillars, several men in black suits and dark sunglasses stood motionless. They watched from near a row of idling black SUVs, their expressions completely unreadable. They made no move to help, nor did they approach. They were waiting, observing every movement with cold detachment.
Jax swallowed hard, his breathing ragged and shallow. He lifted a heavy hand, resting it momentarily against Leo’s damp shoulder to steady himself.
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"Good kid," Jax muttered, his voice gravelly and low.
Leo didn’t let go. He could feel the cold trembling in the man’s frame, but he also sensed an immediate, unspoken danger lingering just beyond the bridge piers. The men in black suits were still watching them. Leo looked back toward the vehicles, his heart hammering against his ribs, realizing that saving this strange, wealthy man from the river was only the very beginning of something he did not yet understand.
