Lately, Castle and Gianna had been buried in work, barely catching a moment to breathe. Now, thanks to the presence of the little one, they had a rare chance to relax and enjoy some idle conversation. Neither had any intention of revisiting unresolved matters at this moment.
Castle even called his daughter, who was attending school in Manhattan, and invited her to drive back to Long Island that evening. He planned a family gathering, including Neil, Gianna, and her family, to take advantage of the rare downtime.
Meanwhile, thanks to Castle resolving the Finch and Reese issue for Beckett two weeks prior, the 12th Precinct's jurisdiction had enjoyed an unusual period of calm. Even the number of homicide cases had significantly decreased.
Esposito, who had taken over as head of the homicide and robbery division following Beckett's promotion to captain, was handling his new role admirably. His longtime partner, Ryan, now a sergeant, still worked alongside him in the field. Having been personally trained by Beckett and supported by Castle's intelligence and drone assistance, Esposito continued to excel in his duties even with Beckett focusing on administrative work.
This shift in responsibilities allowed Castle and Beckett to spend more time together, strengthening their bond.
Fresh off another lucrative deal, Castle enthusiastically declared, "We're having a party tonight!"
With his considerable wealth, organizing an impromptu gathering was no challenge. In fact, describing Castle as "wealthy" no longer did justice to his financial status. The sheer amount of cash at his disposal had reached astronomical levels. His distrust of Wall Street and his Eastern mindset kept him from engaging in risky investments like stocks, foreign exchange, or futures trading.
Even Gianna, who was well aware of Castle's fortune, often teased him about the millions of dollars sitting idle in his Swiss bank account—a reward from the French noble family he had helped in the past. Castle, however, seemed to have completely forgotten about the money, much to Gianna's disbelief.
Thus, throwing a lavish party required little more than a few phone calls. With everything arranged, Castle joined John and Gianna on the lawn, playing with the adorable toddler.
At this stage, the little one was at her most delightful—babbling, wobbling, and attempting her first steps. Even the once-cold and deadly John Wick found himself laughing heartily, while Gianna, utterly captivated, had long shed her image as the heiress of a powerful crime family.
Castle was perhaps the most satisfied of all. Though not entirely his doing, the sight of John and Gianna enjoying a happy, alternative future—so different from the tragic ending he remembered—was deeply gratifying. Watching the diaper-clad little one toddling about, Castle felt he had accomplished something truly meaningful.
While the trio played on the lawn, Steve was pulling his hair out on Oahu.
Who could have predicted that Wu Fa, the man responsible for his father's murder, would sneak into Hawaii only to hole up in Governor James's mansion for over two weeks without stepping outside?
What was Wu Fa doing? Hiding? Negotiating? Could he possibly be involved with the married governor?
Steve was baffled. Despite having real-time surveillance on Wu Fa, thanks to Castle and Ramsey's technological support, Steve was powerless to act. His authority derived entirely from Governor James, which meant he couldn't confront Wu Fa without concrete evidence linking him to his father's murder. Moreover, Steve couldn't risk letting James know that he was aware of Wu Fa's crimes; the governor himself was complicit in the affair.
The situation had reached a stalemate, with Wu Fa refusing to leave the mansion. Fortunately, the intelligence network from New York was robust, bridging the thousands of miles between them. The advanced communications technology made the distance seem insignificant, allowing Steve to monitor developments closely.
Steve wasn't worried—his resolve was already firm. Wu Fa might have arrived on the Pacific island alive, but leaving alive?
Not a chance.
Steve's ruthlessness shouldn't come as a surprise. He wasn't your typical by-the-book law enforcement officer. A former Navy SEAL who had fought terrorists worldwide, Steve had no illusions about the messy realities of the legal system. Besides, with someone like Governor James backing Wu Fa, the chances of justice being served through official channels were slim.
For Steve, there was only one outcome: Wu Fa had to die. A dead enemy was the only good enemy.
Castle shared this sentiment. He had always found it absurd when movies and TV shows depicted protagonists sparing their defeated adversaries, only for those enemies to cause more problems later. Real life wasn't scripted drama, and Castle refused to let himself be lowered to that level of naivety.
Back on Long Island, Castle was in high spirits at his estate. Beckett, returning from work, found her boyfriend laughing like an idiot on the lawn. Knowing his tendency for eccentricity, she calmly greeted Gianna, played with the toddling Onona, and then headed upstairs to change.
Castle had been pent up from weeks of work, and Beckett saw no reason to dampen his mood.
However, news travels fast. By afternoon, the executives at Stan Aerospace in India had learned of Castle's morning deal with Lockheed Martin and Northrop.
Panic spread among the company's directors, who had been eyeing the cloaking technology for some time but had failed to act decisively. Desperate, they convened an emergency meeting in Bangalore. The chairman, determined to break the deadlock, ordered the boardroom doors locked.
"No one leaves until we have a plan—and we execute it!" he declared grimly.
Frustrated by weeks of inaction, the chairman was fed up. "Nearly twenty days! You idiots couldn't get anything done. You agreed to contact the writer and negotiate, but now it's too late! Lockheed and Northrop have already secured deals with him. What's our plan now?"
The directors, a group of wealthy and well-fed elites, squirmed under the chairman's glare.
Then, Rajad, a high-caste Kshatriya director, dropped a bombshell.
"I've already taken action," Rajad announced smugly. "Ten days ago, I hired a PMC to obtain the technology by force."
"What?!" The chairman's eyes widened. "Are you insane? You're telling me you've hired mercenaries to steal the technology?"
The room erupted. At least half the directors had no idea about Rajad's reckless plan until now.
Unfazed by their outrage, Rajad stood tall, his tone defiant. "Yes. Ten days ago, I contracted a capable PMC. Three of their teams are already in New York, conducting reconnaissance. They'll act as soon as they're ready."
His nonchalance only deepened the fury in the room.
"You imbecile!" one director shouted. "We agreed to negotiate first, and only resort to force if talks failed!"
Rajad sneered. "And what's wrong with being prepared? You're the ones who dragged your feet. If you'd done your jobs, I wouldn't have had to step in."
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