Chapter 9

"Come with me." Damien spoke.

Sophia's body stiffened. She silently followed behind Damien and walked into the study next door.

The study was spacious. The main lights weren't on, only a floor lamp casting warm yellow light.

Damien walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the deep night outside.

"I know you have a lot of questions." Damien turned around, looking directly into Sophia's eyes.

Sophia stood at the doorway, arms crossed over her chest in a defensive posture.

"Who exactly are you? Those helicopters, those killers, and the Ford family—what have you been doing these past five years? Do you have any idea how Faye and I survived all this time!" Sophia's voice was hoarse.

Her emotions finally broke down. Tears streamed down Sophia's face.

She'd been kicked out by her family, left stranded in a foreign country. To pay for Faye's treatment, she worked three jobs a day, washing dishes until her hands cracked and bled, handing out flyers in the snow until she was frozen stiff.

Not only did Milo and Clio refuse to help, they pushed her into hell.

And Damien came back with an army, killing without mercy, making him feel like a stranger—someone frightening.

Damien didn't speak. He raised his hand and unbuttoned his shirt.

One button, two buttons. The shirt slipped off.

Sophia's pupils contracted sharply. She gasped.

Damien's broad chest and back were covered with scars—knife wounds, gunshot wounds, burns—crisscrossing everywhere. There was barely any intact skin. On his left chest was a fatal wound that had gone through his heart, the scar a dark red.

"That night five years ago, I didn't mean to leave," Damien's voice was low. "I was hunted by enemies, shot three times, and fell into international waters. Even i didn't think i would have made it."

Sophia covered her mouth, tears flowing uncontrollably.

"I was rescued by a smuggling ship and ended up in Europe's underground fighting rings. To survive, to see you again, I killed people every day—or got killed," Damien picked up a pack of cigarettes from the desk, pulled one out, but didn't light it.

"Later I built an organization called Shadow Sect. I spent five years completely destroying everyone who hunted me and the forces behind them."

Damien walked up to Sophia.

"My name is Damien, Supreme King of Shadow Sect. In the global underground world, I make the rules."

He pulled out a small cloth bundle wrapped in waterproof fabric from his pocket and unwrapped it layer by layer. Inside was a red hair tie, faded and blackened.

It was the hair tie Sophia had casually used five years ago.

"These past five years, I didn't dare contact you. Shadow Sect had too many enemies. If I showed even the slightest weakness, you would've been killed," Damien placed the hair tie in Sophia's palm.

"I could only wait—wait until I had complete control, until I had absolute power to protect you both. Only then could Ireturn."

Sophia held the faded hair tie. All her grievances gradually melted away when she saw those scars and this hair tie.

She thought she'd been abandoned for five years. Turns out Damien had been struggling through hell for five years, just to stay alive and return to her side.

Sophia suddenly threw herself into Damien's arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face against his scarred chest.

"You're a bastard," Sophia cried while pounding his back. "Do you know how scared I was? I thought you really died."

Damien closed his arms, holding her tightly.

"I'm sorry," Damien rested his chin on top of her head. "From now on, you two are my life. Anyone who dares touch you, I'll kill them."

The two held each other quietly. Five years of separation dissolved completely in this moment.

A knock came at the study door.

Falcon stood outside, his expression serious.

Sophia pulled away from Damien's embrace and wiped her tears.

"Come in," Damien put his shirt back on.

Falcon pushed the door open, holding an encrypted tablet. He glanced at Sophia, hesitating.

"Speak. From now on, don't hide anything from Sophia about my affairs," Damien's tone was calm but authoritative.

Sophia felt warmth in her heart.

Falcon bowed his head, "Yes, Lord. Intelligence just confirmed that Ares, the 'God of War' of Celestial Temple, and his personal guard have entered San Francisco through secret channels. Numbers unknown, equipment unknown."

Damien's eyes turned cold.

"There's one more thing," Falcon pulled up a photo and handed it to Damien. "Ten minutes ago, our outer sentries spotted two Celestial Temple scouts near the restaurant where Mrs. Cole used to work. They're trying to investigate Mrs. Cole's social connections."

Sophia's face went pale. The restaurant owner was the only person who'd helped her during those five years.

"What do they want?" Sophia didn't understand why they'd target the owner.

"Don't worry. I'm here. Go upstairs and look after Faye," Damien tossed the tablet on the desk and patted Sophia's shoulder.

Sophia nodded, turned, and went upstairs. Damien watched her go before turning back.

If Celestial Temple dared reach for people around Sophia, it meant they had no intention of playing by the rules.

"Falcon," Damien rotated the black tactical watch on his wrist.

"Yes!"

"Activate the 'Skynet' system. Take over all city surveillance in San Francisco. Notify intelligence to find all of Ares's safe houses," Damien walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the city lights in the distance.

"Deploy all main forces of Iron Bear and Eagle. Lock down all exit routes from San Francisco. Don't let even a fly escape."

"Since Ares came here, let him stay forever. The heads of Celestial Temple's twelve gods will be my homecoming gift."

Night faded. San Francisco welcomed dawn.

Underground operations center at Safe House One.

"Lord, news of the Ford family's destruction has spread across the dark web," Falcon stood before the holographic projection platform, fingers rapidly swiping the screen. Data from major global underground intelligence networks scrolled across it.

"San Francisco's underground world is completely paralyzed. All the major gangs are pulling back. Nobody dares make a move right now. Weapons prices on the black market have crashed. Everyone's afraid of getting caught in this storm."

Damien sat in a swivel chair, holding a cup of black coffee.

"Any movement from Celestial Temple?" Damien took a sip of coffee.

"Ares's personal guard is hiding in an abandoned factory on the outskirts. Our people have locked onto their position. We can close the net anytime. This guard unit is equipped with heavy artillery—they clearly came prepared," Falcon answered.

"Leave them for now. When Ares arrives, send them all to hell together," Damien set down his coffee cup.

An alarm suddenly blared.

"Report! Unidentified armed personnel outside the estate perimeter!" A voice from the Eagle special forces came through the comm channel.

"They're carrying the highest-level pass from the International Assassin Alliance and demanding to see the Lord. They're driving three armored vehicles and acting arrogant."

Damien raised his eyelids.

"Let them in."