Gong Zheng connected the miniature data cloner. The advanced device didn't require the laptop to be switched on: connected directly to the drive, it could copy everything at a touch, silently and without leaving a trace.
Its indicator flickered. The transfer had begun. While it worked, he went to Zhao Zhouming's room to shower. The marks left by his captivity were impossible to ignore. He had once been an Alpha himself, but he couldn't help thinking that Alphas were animals ruled by their pheromones.
There wasn't much time. He had to finish copying the laptop's contents before Zhao returned, so he washed as quickly as he could, then pulled a shirt from the wardrobe. After a moment's hesitation, he reluctantly took a pair of underwear from a lower drawer as well.
His willingness to walk freely through Zhao Zhouming's rooms wasn't mere recklessness. As far as he knew, this wasn't Zhao's main residence, though he did most of his work here. People naturally assumed the most important things would be kept at his principal home. Zhao had chosen to do the opposite. Wasn't there a saying about the most dangerous place being the safest? This time, Zhao had outsmarted himself.
When Gong Zheng returned, the indicator had gone dark. He unplugged the cloner and weighed it in his hand, then straightened the laptop and put the desk back in order. Even if Zhao checked the system logs afterward, he would find nothing unusual.
With everything restored, Gong Zheng went to the second-floor window and tucked the device inside his shirt. His gaze moved over the buildings outside as he judged the distance between the window and the perimeter wall. Then he tapped behind his ear. Gong Shiwen had implanted a tracker there, hidden beneath the skin where removing it would be difficult without surgery.
Two faint beeps sounded directly in his ear. The tracker also supported one-way communication. That signal meant Gong Shiwen knew the assignment was complete and was arranging the pickup.
By comparison with the original proposal, this device was discreet and relatively safe. Gong Shiwen had first wanted an implant that could track, listen, watch, and provide two-way communication. Constant surveillance. What would that make Gong Zheng but a puppet, a disposable operative kept on a string?
He had refused. Gong Shiwen's subsequent “punishment” belonged to a stretch of days he never wanted to remember. Afterward, Gong Zheng had killed everyone who had taken part or stood by and watched, one by one. Gong Shiwen knew exactly why. He hadn't been angry; he had simply turned a blind eye and let Gong Zheng do as he pleased.
Gong Zheng pulled down the curtains, knotted them together, and tested the fabric. He secured one end to the heavy bookcase, took the other in his hands, and climbed onto the sill. Then he swung out. Wind struck his face, and for an instant he felt reborn. It had been nearly half a month since he had breathed fresh air.
He landed steadily and let go. A black stretch Cadillac approached just then. The driver had barely touched the brakes before Gong Zheng had opened the door and slipped inside.
The chauffeur was an older man who often drove him. Nothing unusual there. The passenger in the back, however, was a surprise: the young man Gong Shiwen had been advancing through the ranks. Rumor had it that he was being groomed as second-in-command. Ever since the previous deputy betrayed Gong Shiwen and was brutally executed, there had been no suitable replacement at the chairman's side.
Gong Zheng gave the passenger a cursory look. Still young. Still much as he remembered. His assessment hadn't changed: the fellow looked more like a student than someone from the underworld.
Having spent so long around Gong Shiwen, he naturally knew him. His name was... what was it again?
Right. Gong Si.
Other people might not understand the situation, but Gong Zheng did. That innocent, harmless appearance concealed a thoroughly malicious streak. At their first meeting, this brat, several years his junior, had taken liberties with him right in front of Gong Shiwen. Gong Zheng had been ready to teach him some manners, only for the chairman to deflect the confrontation with a few casual words.
That had made him suspicious. Sure enough, Gong Shiwen eventually told him that Gong Si was his son.
That had been a shock.
No one outside knew. Whatever else could be said about Gong Shiwen, he had protected that secret exceptionally well. Gong Zheng alone had been told.
The public story was that Gong Shiwen had adopted him. Supposedly, Gong Si had taken his surname out of loyalty and gratitude to the man who saved his life.
After that, Gong Shiwen seemed to recognize his son's fixation on Gong Zheng and kept the two apart, sometimes openly and sometimes less so. For once, the chairman had spared Gong Zheng a nuisance.
Yet here the little bastard was. From the moment Gong Zheng entered the car, Gong Si had watched him with an unsettling persistence.
Since even Gong Shiwen wanted them kept apart, Gong Zheng was perfectly happy to ignore him. Then Gong Si spoke, his light voice carrying unmistakable malice. “So. Fifteen days with Zhao Zhouming. How did that go?”
“I heard he locked you in the basement.” Gong Si leaned closer, making a cruel joke of what Gong Zheng had endured. “He's notorious for his methods. I suppose you found that out for yourself.”
“If you're that curious, young master, ask him yourself.” Gong Zheng planted a foot against Gong Si's chest and shoved him away. “Keep your distance.”
He hadn't found any shoes before climbing out of the window. Now the dust from the road smeared across Gong Si's expensive suit. Gong Si glanced down and gave a quiet laugh. He neither pushed the foot away nor protested.
It was like punching a pillow. Boring. Gong Zheng settled more comfortably, lowered his foot onto Gong Si's immaculate trousers, and put the other up beside it. He crossed his ankles as though the young master were there to serve him. In the rearview mirror, the chauffeur caught sight of the scene and nearly broke into a cold sweat.